Night crept up on you this time of year, when summer was over but winter hadn’t yet tightened its grip on the land. Wyatt and Elsie sat, backs to the plane, looking out over the choppy gray waters of the Gulf of Alaska. He was pretty sure Elsie had been crying earlier, and equally sure that she’d been crying for him.
How could she think he was the one to feel sorry for? He tightened his arm a little bit. Pulled her a little closer. They’d started sitting like this maybe half an hour ago, huddled together for warmth, his arm around her shoulders.
He’d warmed up long ago and she wasn’t shivering anymore, either, but still, Wyatt hadn’t let go. And Elsie hadn’t moved away.
“Surely someone will be here soon,” he said even as he considered the darkening gray of the sky. If the Troopers weren’t sending someone out tonight, there was a chance no local pilots would be willing to fly with these clouds moving in. Many people in Alaska had private pilot licenses but weren’t instrument rated, which they had to be to be able to fly by sight.
Wyatt may have said encouraging words, but the longer they sat on the damp, rocky beach, the more convinced he became that they may not be leaving that night.
“You really think so?” Elsie shifted toward him, and she was so close he could smell her shampoo. It was something citrusy, orange or grapefruit, and it smelled like sunshine.
He couldn’t lie to her.
So he didn’t try. “No, I don’t. I was trying to be positive.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so, either.” She sighed, then sat in silence for a second before scooting away from his arm and angling herself to face him. “I vote we camp here by the plane. It’s better visibility both for when someone does come for us, hopefully tomorrow, and it gives us sort of a barrier zone where we can see if someone is coming.” She looked out toward the trees. “Usually I would like the safety of the woods, but I think being out in the open is safer tonight.”
“I agree. I had a tent, but it didn’t survive the fire.” He’d made a quick inventory of his storage area when it was safe to do so. Some items were fine, but the tent was not.
“I have tarps and some emergency bivy sacks in my backpack.”
Of course she did. Elsie was the kind of SAR worker who would be prepared for anything, and that included possibly having to stay overnight in the wilderness. The tarps they could use to make a tent, and the bivy sacks, like ultrathin, disposable sleeping bags, would keep them warm and insulate them against the elements.
“Sounds like a plan.”
She moved to her backpack and started pulling things out, and Wyatt kept an eye on the woods, not willing to let his guard down even for a few minutes. Willow, he’d noticed, was lying near Elsie’s backpack, watching the woods as well. Wyatt’s head still throbbed, a reminder of how easily someone could sneak up on them.
Less so here, but in exchange, they’d make easy targets for a gunman. Was it possible the shooter had lost his gun, and that was why he’d hit Wyatt instead?
“I’m sorry about your plane,” she said as they worked.
“It’s okay.” Wyatt was surprised at how true the words felt. “It was insured. It’ll work out. Better the plane than you.” Compared with the thought that someone could have harmed Elsie, the plane just didn’t mean as much.
“What made you want to become a pilot, anyway?” she asked, looking over at him.
His shoulders tensed. Everything related to his past made him tense, and he took a breath to relax his muscles. Elsie had shared enough about herself; surely he could return the favor.
“Well, I sort of decided college wasn’t for me. I liked what I was learning...” he started.
“What was that?”
“Psychology.” He watched her for any kind of reaction, surprise that a guy like him who hadn’t taken school too seriously would ever think he could study something like psychology. The truth was that while he’d squeaked by with several Ds in core classes in school, he’d gotten an A in psychology because he liked it. People intrigued him.
“Sounds interesting,” she said.
“It was... But I was spending too much time partying. Not enough studying. I flunked out.”
There was no surprise on her face now, but neither was there the judgment he’d been expecting. Instead she was just watching him, waiting for him to tell her the rest of it.
“I came back up here, started doing odd jobs for a friend of the family, cleaning his plane, his hangar... Eventually I decided I’d better do something with my life. I got my private pilot’s license, moved up from there in hours and certifications, and here we are.” He shrugged. “Could you hand me that tarp?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject.
Within half an hour, they had their shelter set up, and night had finished falling, dark clouds stealing the light even earlier than usual. The lack of daylight was disconcerting, even though it was well past 9:00 p.m. Wyatt and Elsie both climbed under the tarp they’d set up. It would protect them from any rain, but the sides were open.
“Kinda tight inside our little temporary home here,” Wyatt joked, poking at the low roof of the tarp.
“Definitely not five-star accommodations. I mean, look at this view. Just monotonous. Wave after wave,” she teased back, motioning to their spectacular ocean view. They’d set up a bit away from the plane, to make sure they were well past the high-tide mark. Neither of them wanted to wake up to ocean waves lapping at their feet.
He laughed at her words. “Surely you’ve slept in worse places, doing the job you do.”
“Oh, definitely.” She hesitated. “Never with anyone after me, though.”
“So this is new?”
“Yeah. New experience for sure.” Her eyes flicked to his, and Wyatt could have almost sworn he saw more in them.
He was no stranger to seeing a spark of interest in a woman’s eyes, but it had been so long. Years since he’d dated at all, since his self-imposed exile from the dating scene while he tried to get his life together. And then years of feeling like he had something to prove, like it wasn’t worth the risk of turning back into who he used to be. Was he just out of practice that he thought he saw that same spark in Elsie’s eyes?
No, he didn’t think so. Would he be out of line to tell her he cared more about her than he was trying to let on? No, he still couldn’t. She was in danger and needed to focus on that. Besides, could he really risk making things awkward when they were trapped out here alone together?
She looked away, then said, “Who takes the first watch?”
He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding. “I think I should stay awake for the night and you should try to sleep, so you’re ready to search again whenever you can.”
“That’s a no. You’ve already gotten involved in a fight that wasn’t yours and spent all day helping me search in rough terrain. I’m not going to just lie down and sleep while you keep us safe, too. You can’t do it all, Wyatt.”
See, he’d have said it was Elsie doing more than her fair share.
“Okay, we’ll take turns,” he said, agreeing to her suggestion.
“You sleep first,” she said, as he’d expected, but Wyatt was ready.
“I have a concussion, so I should stay awake for now.” He grinned at her. “You’d better go first.”
He’d never seen someone roll her eyes so cutely before.
“You’re a pilot. You must have enough first aid training to know that medical experts no longer recommend keeping a concussion patient awake.”
“Better safe than sorry?”
Elsie yawned, tried to catch herself.
“Seriously. Sleep, Elsie. You’ve worked hard.”
From where she lay curled up, Willow seemed to agree that Elsie needed to sleep. Her dark eyes were wide and fixed on Elsie.
Elsie noticed, too, because she called her dog to her. Willow obeyed and she rubbed the dog’s thick white fur. “A nap. I will take a nap. Two hours, max.”
“Fine. Two hours.”
She was asleep within minutes, leaving Wyatt alone to think about who could be after her and why. And what he could do to help. How would they investigate who she’d been decades ago when she had no ties to her old life, no inkling of where she’d come from?
How did she handle not having any links to her past? He wondered if she’d experienced trauma at a young age. Considering the danger she was in now, maybe it was better that she didn’t have those links.
The time went by quickly in the quiet of night, as Wyatt kept his eyes open and his ears tuned to any unusual sounds in the woods. After two hours had passed, he debated not waking Elsie, but knew she’d be frustrated if he didn’t stick to the plan. So he reached for her shoulder and gently nudged it.
She was awake in seconds, eyes wide, blinking.
“It’s your turn. But if you’d rather keep sleeping...” He let his voice trail off.
She moved into a sitting position, shook her head. “No, I’m good. You take a rest now.”
So he lay down on a jacket he’d wadded up to use as a pillow. He knew sleep wouldn’t come easily. The pain in his head was less than it had been earlier, but he still wasn’t comfortable, and he had too many thoughts running through his mind.
It was enough to overwhelm him if he let it, so Wyatt tried not to focus on it. Tried to just fall asleep. And eventually felt himself drifting off.
Screams tore the air. Panicked screams of pain or terror or possibly both.
Elsie’s eyes flew open. She’d thought she’d been awake, but she found herself slumped over and startled by the sound. She’d accidentally fallen asleep during her hour to watch. A couple of feet away from her, Wyatt stirred.
“What’s going on?” he whispered.
“I don’t know.” Humiliated, she admitted, “I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, can’t change it now. Was that a woman? Not a bird, some kind of wildlife...?”
Another scream. Indisputably human.
Willow growled.
“What if it’s our missing person?” Elsie asked. “Shouldn’t we try to save her?”
“You’re search and rescue and I’m a pilot. We’re not a tactical team. That’s a job for SWAT, maybe the Troopers. Us getting hurt or worse won’t help her or law enforcement.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Elsie...”
She heard him, she really did. And she seriously considered staying where she was, not risking her life any more than she already had. She had to admit that the person who was after her was here on the island and wanted her dead.
But what if their missing hiker had met with foul play because Elsie had been the one sent to search for her? What if her would-be attacker had come upon the missing woman in the woods just now and harmed her, thinking she was Elsie?
It would be difficult if not nearly impossible to live with that on her conscience.
“Elsie... Where are you?”
That voice. It came from the woods. Familiar, threatening, the same she’d heard twice before.
She moved closer to Wyatt. Fear gripped her throat and chest. “That’s him.”
He pulled a revolver of some sort out of a holster and she felt a small amount of relief. The most dangerous weapon she had on her was bear spray, which would be effective on a human, though technically that use was illegal.
But he didn’t shoot it.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t shoot without a target.” Frustration colored his tone.
“Where are you, Elsie?” the voice called. “You can’t get away this time. He was always going to find you.”
She frowned. He? The man who was after her was separate from the person who wanted her dead or hurt, it seemed.
Her throat closed a little more and she felt herself struggle to stay calm. To breathe.
“What do we do?” she asked Wyatt, wanting to feel less alone. “Stay here? Run?”
This had seemed like a safe place to spend the night, but now she realized that they were sitting ducks.
But the woods weren’t far.
The woman who’d screamed was still out there somewhere, too.
Those facts made Elsie’s decision for her. She started to tense. “We have to run,” she whispered to Wyatt, knowing Willow would read her movements and respond accordingly.
“Elsie, no—” Wyatt started, but she was already sprinting across the beach for the trees opposite where she thought the attacker was. Willow moved with her, the two of them running for the trees and safety. When she was in the shadows and the darkness, not silhouetted in the moonlight, Elsie started to breathe again. Even more so when she heard Wyatt behind her.
“You should’ve stayed put.”
“The voice was getting closer. He was coming for us.” Elsie’s sense of powerlessness and frustration overwhelmed her. She knew she’d taken a chance running into the woods for cover, but she wasn’t sure it was a bad move. “And we have to find the woman who screamed.”
“It could be a trap, you know,” Wyatt pointed out, and Elsie knew he could be right. But she didn’t think he was.
She gave Willow the command to search, heart still pounding. “Can you make sure no one is following us?” she asked Wyatt. “I need to focus on Willow if we’re going to have a chance of finding whoever that was before it’s too late for them.”
Without any more argument, she made her way through the woods, moving so quietly Elsie was convinced she and Willow weren’t making any sound at all. Wyatt wasn’t doing a half-bad job, either, especially for someone who wasn’t used to this. She pushed a spruce branch out of her way.
Willow stopped. She gave a low moan.
Elsie’s breath caught in her throat. It was her alert for human remains. Her shoulders fell. After all of this, after days of doing her best, it wasn’t good enough. They’d still failed, and failure here on this island, in this corner of Alaska where her past and present swirled together in an uncomfortable haze, was somehow worse than failure elsewhere.
“She’s dead,” she said to Wyatt, then followed her dog, needing to finish the job, no matter how much she might wish she didn’t have to.
Up ahead, Willow stopped, sat next to what looked in the darkness like a shape on the ground. Elsie fought the urge to vomit as her stomach clenched. This was far from the first body she’d seen, and it likely would not be the last, but she never got used to it.
“Elsie, wait.” Wyatt’s voice was quiet but firm enough that Elsie stopped without thinking.
He held out a hand, pointed.
She could see it now, too, the wound on the victim’s back. Blood matting the moss and clumping in the dirt of the small clearing in the woods where the woman’s body lay. A metallic scent hung heavy in the air.
She needed to check for vitals but was bracing herself for the worst.
While she took a breath or two to steady herself, Wyatt stepped forward. “I’ll do it.” He reached for the woman’s arm to feel for a pulse and shook his head.
“She’s definitely gone. No pulse at all.”
But recently dead, Elsie could see that. She swallowed hard against the sense of hopelessness creeping toward her like the fog had crept onto the beach earlier in the night.
How had it only been hours since they’d sat on the beach together, Wyatt’s arm around her? Since she’d felt...safe? Sure, the plane had been half-destroyed and they’d been trapped on an island with someone who they knew for sure was willing to kill, but in those moments, she’d felt peaceful. Maybe she’d even let herself dream about more times like that with Wyatt. But just like she’d known it wouldn’t, the peace didn’t last. It never did.
“I failed her. I should have found her. If I’d led Willow this way before we started searching, if I’d just searched from a different starting point today...” The excuses wouldn’t help, the explanations wouldn’t help, but Elsie felt chewed up inside, broken in bits and at a loss as to how to fix it.
“You did your best.”
But her best hadn’t been good enough.
The darkness of the woods pressed in on her, and instead of it being the comfort she was used to it being, it felt suffocating. Like the darkness of her nightmare, flashback, whatever it was. Elsie stood among the trees but could clearly picture that closet. She was sitting on a pair of shoes and they were digging into her leg. Someone had told her to stay in the closet, she remembered now. She had to be very quiet and stay in the closet. Like a game.
But the crying outside the door wasn’t a game. The darkness didn’t feel like a game. And when she heard someone scream, Elsie knew it wasn’t a game and she scooted deeper into the closet and tried to be as still as she could. Once it had gone quiet, she pushed the closet door open, needing to see if the person who’d screamed was okay. A family member? A friend? She didn’t know, but adult Elsie was afraid of what child Elsie had found. In the cold night air, Elsie blinked, willed the image to go away.
“Elsie?” Wyatt asked softly.
The smell, the screams. All of it was too familiar, and not just from search and rescue work.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She shook her head again, the images long gone but the discomfort remaining, churning in her stomach from more than the gruesome scene in front of her. “We need to call the Troopers. Let them know.” She pulled out her phone and did so.
“Whatever you do,” the trooper on the phone said, “be careful. The island might not be safe for you guys. We’ll get someone there as soon as possible. Can you stay near the scene to keep it as secure as possible for us? At least until we are close to arriving?”
It was the last thing Elsie wanted to do, but she understood the reason for it and answered that they would. The trooper asked for coordinates to where they were and Elsie gave them as best she could, based on the map.
They retreated from the body twenty or thirty feet, into the shadow of a massive clump of spruce trees, and Elsie finally felt like she could breathe again. Willow was still beside her, her demeanor subdued, like it was every time she found or was near someone who was deceased.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Wyatt reached for her hand. In other circumstances, it might have been a romantic moment, but now, as he squeezed her hand, she felt his friendship through the contact.
“It’s just all of this. I failed. She’s dead, and...” Elsie trailed off.
Did she tell him the rest? Could she trust him? And how did she let him know about this part of herself when she didn’t even know what it meant?
She could feel him waiting in the silence. She was waiting, too, to see what happened, to see if she wanted to take another step closer to him or handle this part of her fear alone.
Like she’d always done.