REPORT NUMBER: 21

REPORT TITLE: I Get Chased by Wolves and Mystery Men with Guns

SUBMITTED BY: Agent-in-Training Spencer Garmond

LOCATION: Mission League training compound, Bear Paw Lake Lodge, Alaska, USA

DATE AND TIME: Saturday, August 4, morning

 

 

With Grace clutching my hand, I ran north, thinking we had to be close to the river, and if we reached that, it would be a straight shot back to camp.

Fragmented thoughts burst in my mind. Nick. Helping people find me. Helping bad guys. Hadn’t recognized either of them. Needed to call for help. No phone.

That brought to mind my lanyard. I fumbled with it, slowed some and tried to make sense of what I was looking at.

Grace tugged on my hand. “What are you doing?”

“We need to call for help. How does this work?”

“You have to press your fingernail into the crack until it lights up.”

A sound like a slamming car door made me jump. Reminded me of a trank gun. That fact should have brought relief, but it didn’t. I glanced back. They were coming.

“Run north.” I pointed straight ahead. “The river should be that way. Once you hit it, follow it back to camp. If you have to, find someplace to hide and activate your lanyard. Wait for help. When you get back, tell Mr. S everything. I’m going to distract them.”

I didn’t wait to hear her argument. I ran.

“Spencer!”

I sprinted into the trees, heading east, I thought. I ran for a good ten minutes. I kept looking for another game trail, but before I found one, I came to the fence.

Mother pus bucket!

Without pausing to think or slow down, I scrambled up the chainlink and reached for the top. My eyes caught sight of the coil of barbed wire just in time. I pulled my hand away and twisted sideways. My right shoulder banged against the fence. I slid down, and landed in a crouch.

Barking in the distance, getting closer.

How was I going to get over that?

I shouldn’t. Mr. S said to stay inside the compound.

But getting out would be the best way to lure those guys away from Grace.

They didn’t want Grace. They wanted me.

The loud bang came again, and something pinged off one of the aluminum fence posts. Movement flashed between tress.

About twenty feet away, a huge wolf stepped into the clearing, watching me. Its back was as high as my waist. I tensed, hot with the knowledge that I’d dreamed this scenario many times before.

Leaves rustled on my right, and a second wolf appeared. A third animal barked in the forest beyond, and I could hear the sound of men’s voices.

A bead of sweat rolled into my ear. I glanced down the length of fence and spotted a pair of young cottonwood trees not too far off. I sprinted toward them with everything I had, pulling my gloves from my pocket as I went. I heard the wolves chasing me, panting at my heels, twigs snapping.

I had my gloves on by the time I reached the trees. Another bang sent a yellow dart into the rubbery bark of the tree on my left. I ducked between the two trees and started to climb. They had no low branches, so I had to move with my hands on the chainlink and one foot on each tree trunk. I walked my way up, somewhat horizontally, until my hands reached the barbed wire. Even with my gloves on, I didn’t dare risk trying to grab that stuff. Been there done that too many times.

Instead I reached for the tree branches. I was high enough now that I was able to grab on and pull myself up. I was well out of the way by the time the wolves arrived, jumping and snarling beneath me. The trunk was only about eight inches in diameter and swayed with my movement. The higher I went, the worse it got, which gave me an idea.

“Shoot him down,” I heard Blondie say.

No. No shooting. Not yet. I carefully moved my feet around to the other side, putting my back to the fence. I could see Blondie, laptop tucked under one arm. Tebow holding the gun. I leaned back, forward, and back again.

“Shoot him!” Blondie yelled.

“I’m trying.”

“He’s in a tree. How hard could it be?”

“He keeps moving.”

My treetop was swaying pretty good now. I sailed back and thought I was going to fall. I winced at the sound of the gun, but nothing hit me—that I could feel, anyway. I threw all my weight into the forward motion of the swaying treetop. When I came back again and passed over the fence, I grabbed hold of the spindly trunk above my head and jumped.

My weight carried the treetop over the fence. As it bowed low, I locked my eyes on the ground, waited until the motion of my body paused, then I let go.

The ground was only about a meter away. I squared my feet as best as I could, died a little at the thought of messing up my knee again, but I stuck the landing. The spindly cottonwood shot back into the air. Branches scraped my neck and face and clothes, and a flutter of dislodged leaves rained down as the tree sprang back to its full height.

The wolves jumped against the fence, barking and snapping their jaws. My dream come to life. I met Tebow’s eyes. He actually didn’t look all that much like Tim Tebow. He was older and had a shadow of a mustache. He pointed the gun at me.

Talk about your déjà vu.

But this wasn’t a cage full of shirts in Moscow. This was the forest in Alaska. I turned and ran, dodging back and forth as much as I could to mess up his aim.

He fired three times. Something pricked my upper arm. I kept running, reached back and pulled out a dart. Didn’t stop until I’d put several dozen trees between us.

Then I collapsed.

No. I couldn’t do that. Had to get up. Up, Spencer. Get up. I managed to push myself to my feet. Staggered a bit.

The trank was kicking in. Gotta hide. I found a cluster of ferns and fell beneath them, turned onto my back, reached up and tried to straighten the ferns I’d broken. I fumbled with my lanyard then, pressed my thumbnail into the crack and held it until the edges glowed with red light.

I let my head fall against the moss. Come and get me, Mr. S.

I heard the dogs getting closer. Wondered how they’d gotten over the fence. My vision darkened, but at the sound of voices I strained to hold on.

“I know I hit him.” The muffled voice was unmistakably Tebow’s.

“GPS says he’s just ahead.” Blondie. I so hated Blondie and his computer right now.

“That dose won’t keep him down for long,” Tebow said. “Why didn’t you tell me he was practically an adult? I was expecting a scrawny kid.”

“You didn’t ask me to profile him,” Nick said.

Nick. I cursed him well and good just before I blacked out.

 

 

****

 

 

I woke to dog breath.

A rough tongue lapped my cheek. I jerked, opened my eyes. One of the wolves was standing over me, panting, its clear blue eyes fixed on me. Sure, it looked cute and innocent now, but I bet this thing could get ten kinds of ugly at the snap of its master’s fingers.

That made me wonder. Was this a wolf or some kind of dog? It sure looked like a wolf, but I didn’t think wolves could be trained.

I sat up. I’d been lying on the dirt in front of the plane, back at the lake. My hands were tied in front of me with cotton cord, my ankles tied as well. From the ache in my shoulders and the way my back was stinging, I had a feeling they’d dragged me all the way here.

I wiggled a little until I felt the chains around my neck slide. They hadn’t taken the lanyard or necklace, which meant Mr. S or Kimbal or Prière should be able to track me down.

That was something.

What did these people want with me, anyway? They must work for Anya. Was Nick one of them now? Why?

I had to get away. Anya had practically killed me last summer with her knife, and I really didn’t want her to know I now sported a cross-shaped scar on my chest. I had a feeling she’d take that as proof that I was the guy she’d been looking for and decide to torture me for information I knew nothing about.

Hey, God. A little help, yeah? I mean, I’ve been good for a long time now. I don’t deserve these lunatics coming back into my life and causing trouble.

Footsteps scuffed over the dirt. A shadow fell across my legs. I twisted around and looked for its source.

Nick. He threw something small at the wolf, who lapped it up off the ground with its tongue, then sat down to gnaw on it.

“Hey, Bestie,” I said to Nick. “Thanks for turning criminal and working with my enemies and all that. It’s a big help, really.”

“Shut up,” Nick hissed. “You don’t know anything.” Two steps and he stood over me, glanced off in the distance. “They can’t find the key for the plane.”

I grinned. “Nice.” Must still be in my pocket. At least something had gone my way.

“If you activated your lanyard, it won’t work,” Nick said. “I gave mine to Pete. He hacked their frequency and changed it.”

My jaw dropped. “What if something happens and someone else needs help? Like Sam or El McWilly? You think of that before you went cahoots with these creeps?”

Nick tossed something on the ground beside me. “You better hurry if you’re going to get away.” Then he walked off toward the woods.

The wolf followed him.

I glanced at what he’d dropped. Grace’s knife, still in its sheath, and the tin of matches he’d drawn from Kerri’s basket.

I didn’t understand, but at the moment, I didn’t care. I scooted over far enough to pick up the knife, finagled it out of the sheath, and sawed at the rope around my ankles until it severed. With my wrists bound, cutting the rope there would take longer, and I needed to get away. I fisted the knife in one hand and grabbed the sheath and matches with the other. Moved to my knees. Stood, wobbled.

Wow. Dizzy.

I staggered toward the forest. Movement on my left jolted my heart. Nick, leaning against a tree. He looked at me. Jerked his head toward the forest. “I’ll count to ten, then I’m telling them you got away.”

What the—? I jogged into the woods thinking that Nick needed to make up his mind. Was he friend or foe?

I’d made it maybe twenty yards when I heard him yell, “Hey! He’s getting away!”

Mother pus bucket…

I took off. Running through a mossy forest with one’s hands bound was a precarious act, one I managed quite well, considering. I fell three times, but the third time was only because Grace jumped out of the woods and scared me half to death.

“I’m sorry!” She fell to her knees beside me and grabbed my arm.

“Take the knife,” I said. “Cut my hands free.”

“You got it back?” She took the knife and sliced the ropes so fast that I raised my eyebrows, impressed.

“Nick gave it to me.” I stood up and rubbed my wrists. “But then he told them I was getting away, so I’m not ready to join his fan club or anything like that. We should keep moving. I’m sure the wolves and their masters won’t be far behind.”

We were in a small meadow. Beyond, I could see the distant mountains. I headed toward them. We should come to the river soon. I was sure of it.

Barking in the distance behind us raised the hair on my neck. “We’ve got to run, Grace. We’ve got to reach the river.”

“We don’t know where it is.”

“I told you, it runs diagonally across the compound. If we keep heading north or even northwest, we’ll run into it.”

So we kept going. It crossed my mind how much we’d be hurting for water tonight, but compared to getting abducted by Anya’s thugs, that mattered little.

The sound of rushing water almost brought tears to my eyes. We shot out into a rocky clearing. The Echo River looked swift and dangerous here. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the wolves bounding through the ferns behind us. I grabbed Grace’s hand and ran into the water.

It felt like shards of ice stabbing through my legs, nothing like the warmth of the Asian Pacific, and the fast current took me by surprise. Every time I lifted my foot, the river pulled it downstream. The water only came up to my waist, but I still had to fight to keep my direction steady. Grace lost her balance and fell.

“Spencer!” She clung to my arm with both hands, her face white.

“I got you. You’re okay.” I pulled her up with one hand, using my other to keep from falling myself. I kept going, taking tentative steps onto uncertain footing.

Behind us, the wolves emerged onto the rocky bank.

“Hurry!” Grace yelled.

I was trying, but I had a feeling that if I went too fast, I’d fall. If I went down, my weight would knock Grace over, and we’d both be swept away.

Maybe that would be a good thing, though. I really didn’t know. So I continued to slog my way across the river, dragging Grace along. I’d just started to ascend the bank on the other side when Grace screamed.

A glance over my shoulder. The men had exited the forest, Tebow aiming his gun our way. Once my feet cleared the water, I sprinted for the tree line, which was closer on the northern shore. I still held Grace’s hand, and she kept pace beside me. From the waist down, my clothes clung to me, which made it feel so much colder than it really was. As we dashed into the forest, Tebow’s trank gun slammed out three more rounds. The trees grew closer, and I had to let go of Grace’s hand to vault myself between two trees that had grown across each other, creating a V.

“Spencer, wait!”

I turned back and watched Grace clamber through the V. She looked dead tired. Her foot caught and she tripped. Hit the ground face first and gasped.

“Grace!” I lunged back to her.

She’d landed on moss and laid her head on it like a pillow. “I don’t feel good.”

My gaze flicked to the yellow dart sticking out of the back of her blue sweatshirt. “Oh, figs.”

Grace closed her eyes and lay still.