Fletch
My heart almost stops when I hear my name screamed.
She’s not where I left her but is standing thirty feet away in front of a large boulder.
“She was here,” she says in a wobbly voice when I reach her.
I catch sight of the message she’s staring at.
“Anyone could’ve written that,” I point out, but I don’t really believe that myself.
I doubt many people would find their way out here and unless they were lost or missing, they wouldn’t need to scribble ‘help’ on a rock unless they were lost. As far as I know, no one else is currently missing in these mountains.
My eyes immediately start scanning the surrounding area for any other signs and catch on a narrow crack in the rocks beyond.
“Wait here,” I order Nella, but I’m not surprised when I hear her footsteps following me.
Fishing out my flashlight, I shine it into the crevice and my breath hitches when the light reflects off what I’m pretty sure is an emergency blanket. I clamp the flashlight in my teeth, shrug out of my backpack, and drop it to the ground as I try to wedge sideways into the tight opening.
“What did you find?” I hear Nella behind me, but I’m focused on the slight bump underneath the Mylar.
Once inside, the space opens up into a sizable cavern. Long dark hair peeks out from under the blanket, the strands draped over a hiking pack used as a pillow. My hand goes to the edge of the blanket but stops midair.
I’m not sure I’m ready for what I’ll find underneath. I know for a fact Nella won’t be.
“Fletch?”
I hear the rustle of her jacket as she squeezes through the opening.
Shit.
“Do me a favor, Babe. Stay where you are.”
When I turn my head around, I see her nod, her face drawn and her mouth tight, but her eyes are fixed on the body on the ground. She’s bracing.
Conjuring up every ounce of courage, I whip back the blanket.
Her back is toward me and her face is covered by hair. A dark, sticky patch the size of a pancake clumping the strands above her right ear. Her clothes are filthy and what is left of her body looks almost emaciated. She’s short, like her sister.
I put a careful hand on her upper arm in order to roll her over. I expect her to be cold to the touch, but to my surprise she’s almost hot. Then I notice a slight movement of her chest.
“Nella, I need my pack!”
“Is she alive?”
“My pack,” I repeat sharply.
This woman may not be dead yet, but she’s damn close.
I feel for a pulse which is a bit fast and thready. Shrugging out of my flannel shirt, I carefully wipe the hair back from her face. Her eyes are closed and her lips look chapped.
“Oh my God, Pippa…”
I grab my pack as Nella sags down to her knees beside me.
“She needs water. Little bits at a time.”
As I suspected, her sister jumps into action right away when I give her a task. While I grab my own bottle and pour it over my shirt before covering her with it, Nella bends over her sister tilting her own, newly filled bottle, letting only a few drops at a time fall on Pippa’s dry lips.
Aside from the fever ravaging her body, I’m sure she’s dehydrated and her blood sugar levels are low, so I take one of the energy gel pouches from my first aid kit and hand it to Nella.
“See if you can give her a little of this. I need to get on the radio.”
My primary concern has shifted from getting Nella looked at to keeping Pippa alive. It ramps up the urgency.
I won’t be able to get a signal in here so I slip outside to radio my team.
“Are you on your way?” I ask when Sully answers my call.
“Just riding out now.”
“Did you bring King?”
“Sure did.”
I figured he would bring my horse, but wanted to make sure. Our horses are sturdy and are able to handle the weight of an extra rider. Which comes in handy when we have to transport someone out. Nella can ride with me, but someone else will have to take Pippa.
“Good. We found the sister, but barely alive. Unconscious, fever, dehydration. You’ll need to hustle and get Ama on this frequency so she can have an ambulance waiting when we come out.”
“Ten-four. I’ll let Ewing know as well.”
I forgot all about the sheriff and his search party. His resources are probably better spent elsewhere, like finding the woman’s motorhome.
Ducking back inside the cave, I find Nella hunched over Pippa, examining a laceration on her scalp. It looks horrible; swollen, discolored, and oozing pus. It’s clearly infected.
“There’s disinfectant and antibiotic cream in my first aid kit, but it looks like the infection may have gone deeper than the surface.”
“Are they coming?” she asks as she pulls supplies from my pack.
She sounds cool and collected, her hands surprisingly steady as she tends to her sister. Antonella Freling is made of stern stuff.
“On their way. I’m hoping they’ll get here within the hour.”
I crouch down beside Nella and sneak a peek at her face. It’s drawn, her lips pressed tightly together showing stress, but her eyes are dry. I’m sure finding her sister wasn’t quite the relief she’d hoped it would be. The woman is seriously ill, and I’m concerned she may not make it out of here.
“Maybe we should get her outside?” Nella suggests.
Not a bad idea. We could get her closer to the creek, we need water to cool her down. My only concern is the water may be too cold, which would only cause her internal thermostat to kick into higher gear. That is, if I can even carry her out of here.
“We’ll have to do it together. The entrance is too narrow for me to carry her alone. You’ll have to grab her feet. Once we’re outside I can carry her by myself.”
We switch positions. She takes hold of Pippa’s ankles while I slip my hands under her arms. Nella slips out easily, but it’s a bit of a struggle for me to get through. Outside I lift the unconscious woman in my arms, she barely weighs anything.
“Grab our backpacks,” I instruct Nella as I start moving toward the bank of the creek.
There I lay her down, lifting my shirt from her chest and dunking it in the fast-moving water. By the time I have her covered again, Nella has joined me. She winces when she sinks to her knees by her sister’s side, reminding me she’s hurt herself.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.”
She tucks a hank of hair hanging in her face behind her ear and turns those hazel eyes on me. They’re dark with pain, telling me the real story. Stubborn woman even denies her own discomfort.
“You know you’ll be no good to her if you don’t look after yourself.”
For a moment it looks like she’s going to give me a piece of her mind but opts to silently dismiss me instead.
Nella
It was on my lips to tell him to ‘fuck off’ but that would’ve required energy I have precious little of.
Energy I should devote to Pippa. Once we get her out of here and to proper medical care, I’ll worry about me.
While Fletch resoaks his shirt occasionally to get her temperature down, I pour some more water in her mouth and try to get her to swallow some of that gel he gave me. Most of it drips from between her lips and I’m not sure how effective any of it is—I doubt much of it is going down—but at least I’m doing something.
Every so often I feel for her pulse, reassured when I can still find it. I can’t lose her too, what would I have left to live for? I’m not sure I could survive. Each time my eyes start burning with tears I fight them back; they won’t do anyone any good.
“Your sister is as resilient as you are,” Fletch comments out of the blue, catching me completely off guard. “The fact she was able to keep herself alive for two weeks out here is impressive.”
“My sister can do anything she puts her mind to.”
It’s true. Pippa is very capable, adapts quickly to new situations, and is absolutely fearless. I blame her in part for the premature gray in my hair, but I also envy her. Which is why I’m a little confused why Fletch would compare her to me. There is no comparison.
I’m about to tell him that when a large animal charges out of the underbrush and I launch myself backward, landing awkwardly on my side. I yelp in pain just as Fletch calls out.
“Max! Easy, buddy.”
The animal turns out to be a large hairy dog, currently slobbering all over my face. Fletch pulls him off me and leans close.
“Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head; I don’t think I’m hurt any more than I was before. Grabbing Fletch’s hand, I let him pull me up, just as a group of riders appear out of the trees. The first one off his horse is a large man with tattoos peeking out of the pushed-up cuffs of his shirt. He doesn’t even acknowledge me as his eyes lock in on my sister’s prone body.
“Sully,” Fletch identifies him.
Behind him I make out the bulky black cowboy I met at the ranch a few days ago. I think his name is Bo. He was smiling a lot then, but looks dead serious as he rushes to Pippa’s side, dropping a large medical kit on the ground next to her.
Then I see the man pull an IV bag from the kit.
“Whoa.” I surge toward him, trying to intervene, but Fletch grabs my arm and pulls me back.
“Bo has field training. He’s a medic, let him do his job.”
I’m half aware of a few other guys standing around but keep my eyes on what Bo is doing to my sister.
“Hard to find a vein,” he comments, turning her arm.
He finally seems to settle on the inside of her upper arm and slides a large-looking needle under her skin. Pippa doesn’t even flinch, but I do. I’m not a fan of needles in general. Bo quickly attaches the bag to the IV line and elevates it.
“I’ll take her,” Sully announces, bending down to lift my sister effortlessly off the ground.
She looks so small cradled in those bulging arms and a strained sound escapes me. I can feel Fletch close in behind me as she is carried to one of the large horses, and he puts a warm hand on my shoulder. The last of my energy drains and I find myself leaning back and letting Fletch take some of my weight. Then I watch Sully hand Pippa off to another man, get in the saddle, and reach for her again. He settles her sideways in front of him and takes the IV bag, holding it elevated.
“Come on, Babe, you’re riding with me,” Fletch mumbles in my ear.
I allow him to guide me to a horse. A very tall, very black, and very intimidating horse.
“Nella, meet King. He looks fierce, but he’s a pussycat. I’ll introduce you to the other guys once we get underway.”
Yes. We need to get Pippa to the hospital. It’s the only reason I don’t balk when Fletch gives me a boost into the saddle. I cling to the horn like my life depends on it. Maybe it does. I’ve never been on a horse before.
Then Fletch swings on, sitting just behind the saddle, his arm firmly hooked around my waist.
I already feel safer and as he clicks his tongue, encouraging his horse to move, I allow myself to lean against his sturdy chest and let my head loll back to his shoulder. A few strands of my hair get caught where his bearded chin is pressed against my ear, but I’m suddenly too exhausted to care.
“The guy up ahead with the tan hat is Jonas Harvey. My boss,” Fletch explains softly, pointing out the man leading the convoy. “You know Sully and Bo, and closing out the team behind us is James Watike. You met his wife, Ama, back at the ranch.”
I’m comfortable where I am and don’t want to turn around. I’ll be polite later. Instead I tilt my head back slightly so I can look up. I catch Fletcher stealing a glance at me before focusing ahead.
“Didn’t you have a hat?” I ask, noticing his mussed salt-and-pepper hair.
“Lost it in the creek when that tree came down. It’s probably floating down the Kootenay River by now.”
“I’ll buy you a new one. It’s the least I can do. Thank you.”
He may have been grumpy and unpleasant at first, but despite that he’s shown care and concern for me, and has been gentle with my sister.
“No need. I have another at home.”
I nod my understanding, but the first chance I get I’m going to get him a new one anyway. It’s the right thing to do to thank him for saving Pippa.
My eyes lock on Sully’s broad back, the closest I can get to my sister.
“How does he steer?” I want to know when I notice the reins of his horse hang slack.
My voice sounds slurred with fatigue, and Fletch’s arm around my middle tightens.
“His knees or his heels, but Cisko—that’s his horse—can find his own way. All of our horses are calm, well-trained, and able to make their way back to the ranch on their own if need be. If anything were to happen, all you need to do is hold on.”
My fingers instinctively tighten on the saddle horn. Fletch must’ve noticed because I hear his soft chuckle.
“You can relax, nothing’s going to happen. I’ve got you.”
Yes, he does. For someone who’s used to relying on herself and doesn’t trust easily, it’s surprising how fast I’ve come to trust Fletch.
It’s been an intense couple of days.