6:05 P.M.
Hoping to cut into Duke Hammer’s lead, Devlin and Randall had gone over the mountain instead of taking the path around. Except for a ten-minute break at a mountain lake, where Randall had used a rock to break through a thin layer of ice so Sophia could get a drink, the agents had spent two-and-a-half hours in the saddle before joining up with the trail their quarry had most likely taken.
Now ten minutes down the trail, taking a bend in the path, Randall eased back the reins. “Whoa. Whoa.”
The horse stopped.
Devlin withdrew the Henry Big Boy rifle from its scabbard, “I’ll check it out,” then dismounted.
“Not without me, you won’t.” He got down, tied the Quarter Horse to a nearby branch, and drew his Walther.
Bent at the knees, their heads pivoting left and right, the twosome approached an object in their way.
Leading by a step, her rifle pressed into her right shoulder, Devlin reached the overturned motorcycle first and brushed snow away from the machine. “It looks like the one they escaped on.” She put her left palm to the engine. Three beats. “I’m getting a little heat, so,” she stood and surveyed the terrain, “he can’t be too far ahead of us.”
Randall squatted beside her and touched the engine while eyeing the snow further down the path.
She glanced at him. “What...you don’t believe me?”
“No. I do. I’m just trying to warm up my fingers.” He pointed with his pistol, “I can just make out footprints up ahead,” before he made an arcing motion with his arm. “They’re following the trail northward.” He stood and holstered the PPQ45.
She lowered her long gun. “Now that he’s on foot, we’ll make some real gains. Let’s get going.”
Randall scratched his chin while looking west toward the mountain ridge.
Having taken three steps toward the horse, Devlin stopped and turned back. “You coming?”
He faced north and felt the sting of snow pellets hitting him head on. “I want to catch this guy as bad as you do, Jess, but,” his body shuddered, as he turned to greet her, “you heard Bentley back there. We don’t want to be stumbling around out here in the dark.”
She spied her watch. “We still have more than two hours of daylight left.”
He gestured. “Those mountains to our west will cut an hour off that time. And now that we’re on the northern slope of,” Randall pointed beyond her shoulder, toward the south, “that mountain...we’ll be heading into the teeth of the storm, which,” he looked skyward and hunched his shoulders, “seems to have picked up steam.”
Holding the Big Boy by the receiver in her left hand, letting the rifle hang loosely at her side, she saw what he was seeing.
“I’ll keep on pushing if you want to, but,” he paused, “I vote for using whatever light we have left to find—or make—some shelter for the night.” A beat. “And with Hammer on foot, he’s going to be forced to do the same thing before dark sets in. If he doesn’t, then,” Randall huffed, “well, then Mother Nature will end up doing our job for us.”
Devlin filled her lungs and sighed before brushing snow away from her face, out of her hair, and off her clothing. “I suppose you’re right.” She glanced around. “I’m not seeing much out here in the way of shelter, though.”
Digging out the map, “Come here and,” he unzipped his winter jacket and took a knee, “make us an umbrella with this.”
She kneeled in front of him and spread apart his jacket to create a makeshift tent for him to display the atlas while keeping it free of snow.
“Okay. I’m guessing we joined up with the trail that goes around the mountain right about,” he brushed white pellets away from the paper, “here.”
Devlin got closer to him and brought his jacket up higher. “Is that better?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” His forehead nearly touching hers, he sent his finger in a zigzag pattern over the two-dimensional landscape. “If I’m reading this right, that red dot there is another one of Denny’s cabins. Looks to be about a half mile away.”
“To the northeast, too. So, we’d still be going somewhat north...and not fall as far behind Hammer.”
Randall righted his head and glanced over his left shoulder. “It should be,” he pointed, “right through that pass.”
“That’s what I’m thinking as well.” She nodded a moment later. “All right. I’m on board. Let’s,” she tipped her head back and was slapped in the face by snow pellets and a rush of cold wind, “let’s see if we can get out of this crap for a few hours.”
*******
TWENTY MINUTES LATER...
Standing inside a cabin, their heads cranked backwards, their clothing covered in white, Devlin and Randall gaped at a big hole in the roof.
Snow floated through the opening, drifted downward, and coated the southern half of the structure.
“Maybe that’s why,” he squinted at splintered rafters, “why this place was the only cabin on the map marked with a red dot.”
“Do you think it’s safe...to stay here, I mean?”
“I’m thinking so.” He pointed upward. “Those beams right there are rotted out. That’s why,” he motioned toward the large section of roof that had collapsed, “this fell in. But the,” he wagged his pointer finger back and forth above his head, “the rest of the boards up there appear to be in good shape, though.”
Devlin righted her head and gave the small cabin a once-over; stone fireplace on the north wall, overturned kitchen table in the middle of the space, demolished bunk beds under the fallen roof, two wooden, straight-back chairs along the west wall, snow everywhere.
Randall observed the interior while setting the horn bags and sleeping bag on the chairs. “Tidy things up a bit and run a broom over the floor,” he tossed out a nod of approval, “it’ll be just like a four-star hotel room.”
Shuffling toward the fireplace, she jabbed a finger skyward. “And the big, gaping hole in the ceiling?”
“I’ll bring it up with management at checkout.” He regarded her. “Tell me...why do you women always nitpick at the little things?”
She cranked her head around to lift eyebrows at him. “We women?”
Raising a finger, “Did I say women?” he retreated toward the open front door. “I meant to say people.” Not giving her a chance to scold him, he barreled ahead. “Before this goes any further, I’m going to get Sophia settled in for the night.” He gave her a smile then closed the door on his way out.
Envisioning his million-dollar smile, a tactic she was sure he had used in the past to get himself out of ‘hot water’ with the opposite sex, Devlin grinned and turned toward the fireplace. Wise choice. She blew snow off the lid of a steel can before opening it. “So, I guess I’ll just,” she offered up her best impression of her partner, “tidy things up a bit in here.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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