She burst through the door, then, knife gripped tightly in her hand. The kitchen was empty. So were the bedroom the bathroom. She left the cabin, running around its perimeter. The back door lay off its hinges, tilted to one side in the doorframe.
They were gone.
On the wind she heard a long, strangled cry, and her gut sank, churning with fear.
14
MADELINE stopped, listening in the ensuing silence for the direction of the cry, hoping for another. Only the sigh of wind in the pines met her ears. The cry of a distant hawk. A creek gurgling nearby. She thought of calling out for Noah but was afraid to give her position away to the creature. Instead, she crept silently around the perimeter of the cabin again, gripping the knife in one hand.
She hoped that Noah had successfully driven the creature away, but her gut knew Noah was no match for the creature. Without the dagger, the most he could hope for would be to knock it unconscious and run away. With a chill she thought of the men who had attacked her, of the gleaming, silver spike that the creature had summoned, driving it deep into their flesh.
She searched the entire area, moving in bigger and bigger circles radiating out from the cabin. She thought the cry had come from the north and searched longer in that direction, but to no avail. An hour passed, then two. She covered every foot of the surrounding area. Sweat clung to her body, stinging her eyes.
If Noah had been successful, even in knocking the creature out, he would have been back by now. She had to get help, get a rescue team going. Right then he could be lying helpless, bleeding to death while she searched fruitlessly.
She returned to the cabin and to Noah’s Jeep, flinging the door open. No keys. She was sure he had them in his pockets, but she just wanted to be certain. Quickly she checked the visors, under the seat, the glove compartment, and finally under the Jeep itself to see if he had a spare. No luck.
For a moment she frowned, looking at the steering column of the Jeep. In movies, criminals just touched two wires together and spark! They were on their way. She gazed at the tangle of cords hanging from the steering column, a rainbow of twisted cords bound together with small plastic clips. She had no idea which two would start the car if she touched them together. For a second she considered just ripping them all out and touching them all together until she found the right combination, but she thought that might just take the Jeep out of commission completely.
The nearest cabin lay two miles down the road, but when they’d passed it earlier, it showed no signs of occupation. And she knew it wouldn’t have a phone. The dirt road meandered for miles through the forest before rejoining North Fork Road on the outskirts of the park. She knew there’d be faster, more direct trails than sticking to the winding road.
At last a terrible wave of déjà vu washed over her as she realized she was going to have to hike down. She couldn’t just wait here for Noah and hope he came back. She couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t lying far away somewhere, wounded, or worse. If she was going to get help, she had to do it now.
Putting the driver’s seat forward, she rummaged in the back of the Jeep, pulling out Noah’s huge backcountry pack. She could hike out without it, she knew, but there were a few supplies she didn’t want to be without. Laying it out on the ground, she unzipped the main compartment. From inside she took the map, a compass, two bottles of water, five mint-chocolate Genisoy protein bars, a purple and black Gore-Tex raincoat, Noah’s fleece jacket, and a baseball hat that read “Banff National Park” above the bill. These she stuffed in the day pack along with a flashlight, and zipped it up. She kept the knife in one hand. Quickly she returned the huge pack to the Jeep and shut the door. Hunkering down beside the car so she’d have at least a little cover, Madeline opened up the backcountry map and studied it.
In a few moments she’d located her position: a graded dirt road that ran from North Fork Road up a ridgeline. She was about thirty miles from the west entrance of Glacier National Park if she took the road. She shook her head. That would take too long. Way too long. She’d have to spend the night out, possibly two. She studied the map closer, and found a nearby trail that cut down into a valley and led to the Polebridge Ranger Station. According to the map, it was a mere 7.5-mile trek to the station, almost all of it downhill. She stood up, slinging the day pack over her shoulders.
According to the map, to the west the trail came within four hundred feet of the graded dirt road. She hiked in that direction, crossing the front yard of the cabin and entering the treeline beyond. Trying to stay in as straight a line as possible, she wove between pines and stepped over logs, avoiding thorny brambles.
The sky rumbled, and a few moments later rain erupted, trickling down through the trees. She paused, pulling out the rain gear and donning the parka.
“Madeline!” A sudden voice crashed in through the quiet pitter-patter of rain on her hood. She turned back around, trying to find the source of the voice. “Madeline!” shouted the voice again. Noah.
“Noah?” she called out, taking the hood down so she could see better.
“It is you!” Peering through the trees, she saw movement back at the Jeep. He ran out from behind it.
When she saw his face as he grew closer, Madeline cringed. One eye was completely swollen shut, the rest of his face bruised and cut. Blood wept freely from the gash in his neck as he hobbled quickly toward her with a painful-looking limp.
“Noah!” she cried, running toward him. Even closer, she saw the full scope of his injuries: a terrible slash in his stomach; blood soaked through the tear in his shirt; ragged, torn skin exposed beneath. A similar gash along one thigh had torn through his jeans. Through it Madeline saw muscle and the white gleaming of bone.
“It’s nothing,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”
“Nothing!” she said in disbelief.
“I’ll heal,” he said simply. “You should have seen this an hour ago. I could see my own bone marrow.”
She winced.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him, feeling the slick of his sweat beneath her fingers as she hugged him back.
“But… I don’t understand.” He pulled away. “Didn’t he come after you? Didn’t he find you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“But-” Noah shook his head, looked down. Ran a hand over his face, wiping blood out of his eye. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t he come after you?”
Madeline had no idea why. She stood there silently. “What happened?”
After a moment, Noah looked back up at her. “We fought, but I didn’t have the knife, so it wasn’t much of a struggle.”
She cut in. “I found the pack and came back with the knife, but I couldn’t find you.”
“I’m glad you’ve still got it. We crashed through the cabin, ended up breaking through the back door. I took off down a path in the back. He came after me…” His voice trailed off.
“Go on.”
“He gave me one hell of a swipe to the head. I went unconscious. As I faded out, I heard him move off in your direction.” He looked down her intently. “I thought he’d get you for sure.”
“Well, if he had come after me, I would have been ready.” She thought of the knife lying safe in the backpack.
“Damn, you’re tough.” He held her again, but she didn’t feel so tough. She was scared. Damn scared.
“So where do you think he is now?” she asked, hugging him again, placing her head on his shoulder.
They parted. “I don’t know. But I think we should get out of here. Fast.”
“I’m with you on that.” She looked around at the deepening shadows, wondering what they hid. “Let’s go.”
As they walked to the car, he asked her, “Where were you going?”