MONDAY, ONE HOUR BEFORE DUSK
Cam walked behind Ranger Wayne Duke in the gathering twilight. She knew Duke was forty-five, but he looked older, his face darkly tanned and seamed from all his years outdoors. He was a no-nonsense man, built lean like a runner and tough as an old boot, always ready, she imagined, to deal with a bear or a drunken tourist. He wore a Beretta snug in a clip at his waist, his Remington 7600 slung over his shoulder next to his backpack. He seemed at home with his weapons and with the forest. When he raised his hand and turned back to speak to them, his voice was judge-calm and low, his Virginia drawl soft and smooth as butter. “We’ve got to make some assumptions if we’re going to hope to pick up their trail. We’re all agreed they’re going to be heading north, as far away from civilization as they can make it on foot.” He pointed to a small snaking trail that forked off to the right. “If they peeled off here, they’d be heading into low hills, open scrub, and sparse trees. Not a difficult hike, at least along the ridges, but they’d be exposed there, so I’m thinking they’re going to be moving closer to the drainages—the creeks—for tree cover. It’s tougher terrain, but I’d take that trade-off. There’s a trail leading down to the creek a bit farther up.
“Chief tells me you’re an ex–army ranger, Jack, so you’re welcome to lead out if you want. Chief, you and Agent Wittier stick close to me. Once we get to the creek, we’ll want to spread out. What you want to look for is boot prints, broken branches, displaced rocks, any sign of their passing. There aren’t many hikers where we’re going, so anything fresh you see is probably them.”
Jack said, “You take the lead, Duke. You know the lay of the land. I think you’re right they’ll be heading for overhead tree cover, to avoid line-of-sight surveillance.”
“Let’s move out then.” As they fell into line behind him, Duke said over his shoulder, “It’s about five miles along a meandering creek up to Highway 490 and 89. They might try to make the five miles tonight, make it less likely local law enforcement patrolling roads would catch sight of them, but maybe not. If we can find their tracks near the creek before dark, we can keep after them, but even with the quarter moon tonight it’ll still be too dark to see anything. We’ll probably have to wait until first light.”
Jack said, “At least they have no idea anyone’s behind them. That’s why we opted out of any helicopters overhead to help us spot them. With any luck, we’ll be a surprise.”
Duke pushed a branch out of the way. “Daniel Boone is mostly a wide-open forest, a lot of pretty clear terrain, with gentle, low-country slopes that top out at about twenty degrees. Most of the deeper woods are around the creeks. We can be at the creek in about thirty minutes, if we move fast. That’s where we’ll set up camp.”
They hiked in silence, the only human sounds they heard were their footsteps and their own breathing. Duke moved faster as the dusk deepened. At least the temperature was falling, cooling off from the heat of the day. They followed the troughs of the rolling hills into thickening woods until Duke raised his hand. “The creek is ahead, down that incline. I know we’d all like to keep going, but there’s no point in pushing on now. They have three, maybe four hours on us. This is as good a spot as any for the night. We’re open to the sky, but there won’t be any rain tonight, so we don’t have to worry about shelter. We can even use the camp stoves, but after tonight we’ll have to be more careful. We can’t risk being spotted.”
Soon each of them had their bivvy sacks rolled out, their pads and lightweight sleeping bags inside, laid in a rough circle.
Jack set up the two camp stoves with fuel canisters, watched the small gas flames flare to life, something that always made him feel at home. Chief announced it would be chili and rice for dinner. As long as there was ketchup, Jack was good to go. He put a small pail of water on for coffee.
They sat in a row on a fallen log eating their chili and drinking their instant coffee as it slowly turned pitch black around them. Duke picked up his headlight, adjusted its stretchy band, and slipped it over his head. “That’s better. I wouldn’t want to miss any of this fine gourmet chili.”
They laughed, slipped on their own headlights.
Chief took a final drink of his black coffee, shuddered. “Too bad there isn’t a Starbucks around. It’s only out of politeness I call this coffee.” He shook out his camp cup. “Tell us about where we’re headed tomorrow, Duke.”
Duke said quietly, as if he didn’t want to alarm any critters nearby hunkered down for the night, “As you know, the Daniel Boone National Forest stretches nearly to Ohio. There are hundreds of caves, dozens of lakes and mountains, waterfalls, gorges, creeks like this one, and hundreds of miles of trails. We have private property, owner-operated farms, private houses, roads, large campgrounds, open fields.
“What’s most important is that we get thousands of bikers and campers on any given day in high summer and that plays to our advantage. We’ll stay away from those main trails since we know they’ll want to avoid people. If we find tracks, we’ll know who it is. Still, it’s too bad we don’t have anything that belongs to Manta Ray or I’d have Milo’s hound dog, Cody, out here to track them for us.”
Cam said, “Not to worry, Duke, we have our own human hound dog. Jack’s as good as Cody, right, Jack?”
Jack grinned at her, his headlight making his face glow like a lit-up pumpkin. “Give me the sun and a footprint and I’m good to go.”
“Remember, folks, all this is my best guess.”
Chief shook his empty camp cup at him. “Come on, Duke, you’ve been all over this forest for years. Your best guess is as good as gold. Where do you think they’re headed?”
Duke took a last sip of his coffee and wiped out his camp cup. He pulled a butt-curved map out of his pocket, unfolded it, and laid it down by the light of the stoves. “I’ll call the two people with Manta Ray his keepers. Let’s say the keepers are experienced hikers, but we know Manta Ray isn’t, he’s a city boy from what you’ve told me, and that makes him the weak link. Whoever busted him out doesn’t want him breaking his neck. So I’ve ruled out these two wilderness areas, here and here—they’d have to cross a couple of gorges, both rough and dangerous. That’s how I came up with following this creek below us, Hellard Branch, to avoid the ridge where there’s too much chance of being seen. I’m hoping we can pick up their trail somewhere between here and Highway 490.”
They followed his finger on the map. “They’ll have to cross Winding Blade Road, then back into scrubby terrain before they reach the thicker tree cover of Denny Branch. It’s about four miles from our location.”
Jack said, “Manta Ray’s definitely out of his element. He grew up on the streets of Belfast, came to the U.S., and made his living on the streets of New York. Let’s hope it’s a big problem for them.” He adjusted his headlight and rose.
Cam said, “You headed out somewhere, Jack?”
“I’m going to circle around for a while, make sure they’re nowhere near here. One thing I learned in Afghanistan was never underestimate the enemy.”
18
DANIEL BOONE NATIONAL FOREST
MONDAY NIGHT
“It’s dark as a snake pit. All I want is a freaking fire.”
Elena’s headlight flashed in Manta Ray’s direction. “I told you, no fires. The last thing we need is for some ranger to follow his nose and pay us a visit, demand to know who we are and why we’re stupid enough to build a fire in a non-designated area. Eat your mac and cheese, Liam.”