Saturday, 2:17 p.m.
So focused was Leyna on making it home without twisting an ankle that she nearly missed the man waiting at the edge of the woods. When she finally picked him out of the thickening smoke and swirling ash, she thought of Adam and tensed. If he meant to finish the job of the failed trap, there would be no avoiding it. He would kill her, and there would be no one to save Dominic.
But it was Richard who broke into the clearing, and she knew what question he would ask. Where’s my son?
Leyna couldn’t bear to hear the words spoken casually. As soon as he drew close enough, she shouted, “Dominic’s hurt.” Her tongue felt swollen, as if she might choke on it, and she had to swallow several times before she could continue. “He triggered a bear trap.”
Richard’s face grew nearly as pale as his son’s had been. “How bad?”
She shook her head, unable to answer.
Voice breaking, Richard said, “Show me.”
Leyna took the lead. Around them, smoke billowed and ash whirled. Though she’d passed that way only minutes before, her lungs were forced to work harder now.
She wheezed, which triggered a series of phlegmy coughs. Beside her, Richard seemed to have no problem breathing, despite the haze.
Leyna slowed, taking in her surroundings. Though she’d traveled the path twice in the past hour, details grew suddenly jumbled in her head, the trees and boulders that had once seemed unforgettable landmarks blurring to patches of green and gray.
When she picked up her pace again, so did Richard.
“Was he conscious when you left him?” Grief made his tone gruff.
When you left him. Leyna knew Richard hadn’t meant the words as an accusation, but guilt soured her stomach nonetheless.
She managed a quick “Yes” between breaths, then: “There was a lot of blood.” She pictured the bloom of red below his knee and felt a sudden urge to explain her decision to abandon him. “He was too heavy to move.”
A minute later, they found him.
Winded more from emotion than the jog back through the forest, Leyna forced in a breath and knelt beside Dominic. He was so very still, the only movement the wind tugging at strands of his dark hair. Blood now claimed more of his pants. Wind brought the metallic scent of it to Leyna, searing her nostrils. So thick she could nearly taste it.
“He’s going to be okay,” she said, mainly to herself.
At the sharpening metallic tang on her tongue, a wave of nausea left Leyna suddenly unsteady. She shifted to make room for Richard.
Richard pulled out a pocketknife and gently cut through Dominic’s pants, exposing pale skin and matted leg hair. “You okay, son?”
Dominic managed a nod.
To Leyna, Richard said, “The bleeding’s stopped, and it doesn’t look like anything major was cut.” To Dominic, he said, “Your leg should be okay to splint once we remove the trap.”
Leyna allowed herself a few moments of solace at Richard’s certainty and at how quickly they were able to pry the trap apart and free Dominic’s leg. They used a stick and Dominic’s T-shirt to fashion a makeshift splint, and with her help, Richard lifted Dominic upright so that he stood on his good leg. He wrapped his arm around Dominic’s waist, supporting his weight.
“Usually, I would leave you here until help came, but looks like that’s us today.” He paired a reassuring tone with a smile, but Leyna noticed the overbright sheen to his eyes.
She also noticed the implication of what he’d said. Looks like that’s us today. While the gusts made a helicopter rescue impossible, an ambulance should get there nearly as quickly.
Richard met her gaze and gave a quick shake of his head. “Phones are down,” he said. “The main road is closed too.”
The weight of that information knocked Leyna back a step, but she tried to keep it from her face. She didn’t want Dominic’s fear to feed off her own.
With his free hand, Richard brushed the hair from his son’s face.
“Not going to lie,” Richard said, voice low. “This is going to be rough. But I’ve got you.”
Leyna moved to Dominic’s other side, but Richard took most of the burden. He gave no sign he struggled. Leyna was reminded of the day he’d helped a thirteen-year-old Dominic from the soccer field after he’d sprained his ankle, though this injury was so much worse, and there was no medic waiting a few yards away.
As they made their way slowly back to the trail, Leyna trying to disguise her own labored breathing, she scanned the tree line. Usually this was the place she felt most at home; now, the rustling pines and shadows between them seemed to warn of coming danger. But she felt numb to it. The worst had already happened. Dominic was hurt, and they hadn’t been able to find Ellie.