CHAPTER ONE
Third Day Out
Thunder rumbled and echoed behind her. Kimberley halted on the trail and turned to look
back. The sky was growing dark, clouds piling up. She took off her well-worn cowboy hat
and wiped her forearm across her brow.
There…she saw a distant flash of lightning. She began counting off the seconds until the
sound of thunder reached her. Five, maybe six miles. The storm looked as if it was heading
her way. She put her hat back on, tugging the brim down to shade her eyes. If the map she
was following was right, there was a shelter of some sort about three miles further down
the trail. On flat ground she was sure she could beat the storm there, but this damned
trail meandered up and down, around and around, like a demented snake. Off to her left was
the long, green bulk of the mountain. Small spur ridges ran off of it, sloping down
towards a lake miles away. The trail went up and down these, sometimes taking odd little
detours. Between the spurs were occasional small, rocky streams. While the trail itself
seemed to have been kept cleared, it was rough going at best, and she’d have to push
herself to beat the rain. Shrugging her backpack into a more comfortable position, she set
off again, down slope.
From his up slope vantage point about a quarter mile away, he’d gotten a good look at her
when she paused and turned around. He’d even had time get his field glasses out. He’d been
trailing her since late yesterday, and this was the first chance to see her close up.
From the backpack and the bulky flannel shirt she wore he couldn’t tell how she was
built topside, but those were very nice legs coming out of those tan walking shorts. He
zeroed in on her face. It was a good face: high cheekbones, aristocratic little nose, full
lower lip, upper lip a bit thin, nice big blue eyes. Those eyes were narrowed as she
looked at something far off, a small crease appearing just over the bridge of her nose. He
could see her lips moving slightly as she kept watching. The face matched the picture he
had, except for one thing. In the photo, she’d had long, really long, honey-blond hair.
The hair was the same warm color, but it had been cut so short that now it was more like a
curly cap for her head. What he found most interesting was that with her hair that short,
now he could see her ears. They were pretty enough ears, to be sure, but they seemed to
tilt back a bit more than usual, were a bit narrow, which made them seem longer than they
were, and they came to rounded points at the tips. The whole effect made him think of
drawings he’d seen of elves.
The roll of thunder reached him, and a moment later she turned back down the trail
and disappeared down the slope. Trying to beat the storm, he guessed. There was a rickety
old shelter a couple of miles further along. She must be trying for that. He took out his
small radio. Time to contact Kurt.
As she trudged along, Kimberley kept hearing occasional growls of thunder…getting
closer, it sounded. She was tempted to quicken her pace, but on this trail it would be
risky. There were too many loose rocks, too many slopes. The approaching storm came as no
surprise to her. The past three days had been hot, dry and dusty, and it was about time
for the weather to change. The timing was inconvenient, though. She topped another of
those innumerable spur ridges and started down the other side.
She had the odd feeling that she was being watched. It had started yesterday. She
hadn’t seen or heard anybody since, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. Well, these woods
were thick enough to hide any number of people. Maybe it was just her isolation getting to
her. Maybe…but she didn’t think so.
It was time for one of her regular five-minute rest halts, but that storm kept
sounding closer and closer. She kept walking. Almost halfway there, now.
He could hear the thunder too, getting nearer. He was traveling on an upper trail that
wasn’t shown on her map. The going up here was a bit easier, except for the small branches
that kept slapping at his face. He pushed on. He could get to the old shack before she
did, and be under cover before she arrived. Kurt was somewhere up ahead, on the same trail
as she was. Lloyd was out of range of his radio, but Kurt was in touch with him and could
relay messages.
It was ominously dark by the time she reached the shelter. It was a weather-beaten old
two-room shack sitting at one side of a clearing. It leaned disturbingly, the windows were
long gone, and what she could see of the roof was unpromising. But there was a narrow
porch on the lee side of the building. The roof extended over it, and looked sound enough.
She shrugged off her backpack and leaned it against the grayed wooden wall, then sat down
alongside it. The air had grown very still. Even the birds she’d been hearing for days
were quiet. There was a faint grumbling of thunder from far off, and then a cool breath of
air stirred the leaves. A moment later, the rain hit. It fell as if someone had emptied a
lake overhead, a driving curtain of rain that blocked her view of anything more than a few
feet away. Then lightning struck somewhere very close by, leaving her blinking and unable
to see much anyway. When the afterimages faded, she looked up at the roof overhead. A few
small drips here and there were getting through, but not over her or her gear. The old
building shook and groaned as the wind hit it, but it seemed to be up to the onslaught.
She relaxed a little, and wondered how long the storm would last. She still had some
ground to cover today.
He lay flat in the thick brush at the edge of the clearing as the rain pounded on his
waterproof poncho. He hoped it really was waterproof. It was a camouflage pattern, but
right now that was unimportant. Visibility was almost nothing. Fat raindrops were
splashing water and bits of loose dirt into his face. Nothing to do but wait it out.
The downpour seemed to go on and on, but after a while he thought he could see some
signs of it letting up. A little bit later, he could make out the outlines of the shack,
some sixty or seventy feet away. He kept his eyes fixed on it. When he could finally see
her, she was sitting on the porch, knees drawn up, back against the shack. She looked
perfectly at ease, smoking a crooked little black cigar.
Kimberley took another slow drag, exhaled the acrid smoke out into the rain. It was
definitely letting up now, but there was no way to tell how much longer it would go on.
The front seemed to be moving pretty quickly though.
Well, it would have to happen soon, she thought to herself. She had at best only two
more days’ rations, and she was down to her last change of clean clothes. If she had to,
she could wash stuff out in one of those damned little creeks she had to keep crossing,
but food was another matter. If she ran out, she would have to forage something from these
woods. The cigar was down to a stub. She flicked it out into the rain, and stood up,
stretching. The past days had been hot and sweaty, and there’d been no chance to do more
than a quick wash-up from a stream. Right out there was a perfectly good shower, and she
wasn’t going to let it go to waste. She fished the soap and a towel from her backpack and
began to undress.
He watched, fascinated. The information he had on her only covered so much: Kimberley
Anne Jacobsen, age twenty-six, height five-four, degree in archaeology, blond hair,
surprisingly light blue eyes. But that, and the few pictures, only told you so much. He
was getting more of an education now. Under the flannel shirt, she wore a snug green
T-shirt. As she pulled it off over her head, he saw that under that she wore some sort of
sports bra. It followed the T-shirt, and then she shucked off her shorts and panties. He
must have missed her taking off her hiking shoes. She stretched once, slowly and
luxuriously before stepping lightly off of the porch and into the rain. He heard her yelp
as the chilly water hit her and grinned. He could have told her about that. She began
soaping herself quickly.
He was reminded even more of an elf. She was slender: slim-hipped, with long, strong
legs and cute little teats. He had categories for women’s mammaries: titties, teats,
breasts, boobs and “Lower Back Pain.” They corresponded roughly to A, B, C, D and E cups.
She did a very thorough job of showering. Every so often, she’d give a tiny yelp as her
bare feet stepped on something uncomfortable, and dance around a little. He wished he were
close enough to see her better. She seemed to be a natural blonde, but he was interested
in seeing the effect of the cool rain on those pink nipples. Well, time enough for such
things later. Meantime, it was very hard to just lie here and watch her. He was tempted to
jump up and rush her right now...but neither Kurt nor Lloyd would approve. This had to be
done properly. He gave one silent sigh, and kept watching. She looked to be in great
shape. Might even last out the whole thing.
Cold water was starting to seep in under his poncho. With her so close, though, he
didn’t dare move. He thought about getting his hands on that lovely young body later, and
grinned.
When she couldn’t stop shivering, Kimberley decided she was clean enough. She hopped
back up onto the porch and picked up the towel. It was a good thing she’d had her hair cut
short for this…hike, she thought. If it were the old length, thick as it was it would take
forever to dry. Besides, she rather liked the pixie-ish look this style gave her. In the
right light, she looked nineteen again. She rubbed herself down vigorously with the towel,
going over her bare skin until it glowed pink. That done, she hung the towel on a
protruding nail and broke out her last clean clothes from her backpack.
Watching her dress was nowhere near as interesting as watching her undress. He stayed
still under cover and watched, though. Her new outfit looked much like her old one, except
that the oversized flannel shirt was some shade of dark blue. Still barefoot, she sat down
on the porch as she had before, and lit another one of those little cigars. Apparently she
was going to wait out the rain. There was a cold puddle under him now, and he put it down
to her account.
At long last the rain began to peter out. Sunshine began to poke through the last ragged
dark clouds. Kimberley pulled on her socks and shoes. The towel was still damp. She folded
it up and stowed it away anyway. She could spread it out for drying when she camped for
the night. Shouldering her backpack, she set off along the trail again.
He gave her a ten-minute head start before following. By now his whole front was
dripping wet, cold and very uncomfortable. Nothing he could do about that right now. He
took out his radio to contact the others. He had an idea where she’d probably make camp
for the night. Kurt and Lloyd could intercept her there, while he followed her in case she
tried to double back, or stopped early.
The ground was still a bit soggy, but drying out fast. Kimberley loved the smell of the
woods after a rain, rich and earthy. She could hear birds again: blue jays squabbling over
something. The storm hadn’t lasted all that long, but she’d still have to make up for some
lost time. There was a spot marked on her map that looked like an ideal campsite. There
was a spring near it, and plenty of firewood available. She’d need the firewood. It would
get chilly tonight, after the storm. It was already noticeably cooler. She loved the
outdoors, the physical activity, pushing herself...she stopped abruptly. She had been
pushing herself. Frowning, she took out the map she’d been given and looked at it. It was
a pretty detailed relief map, showing the rugged country she’d been hiking. It also showed
just the one trail, the one she’d been on since the start. On that trail, her ultimate
destination, marked “Safety Zone”, was about seven days’ walk from her starting point.
When she started out, they’d given her five days’ rations for the trek. Without thinking
much about it, she’d been trying to squeeze a little bit more distance out of each day so
that she could—just possibly—do it in six days.
She sat down on an old fallen tree trunk to think things over. Not all that long ago
she was sure that it would have to happen soon. She’d also had the feeling she was being
watched, though she didn’t have it at this particular moment. She looked at the spot she’d
picked for her campsite tonight. It was obviously a good spot. And, if it was obvious to
her, it would be just as obvious to anyone else with a similar map. She chewed on her
lower lip for a moment. It was the perfect place for them—whoever they were—to intercept
her. She shivered, not entirely unpleasantly. Well, that WAS kind of the point of her
going out into the woods alone, wasn’t it? Still, why make it easy for them? She stood up
and began to pace back and forth, every so often looking up the trail she’d been ready to
follow. Now it smelled like a trap. She could still walk into it, but somehow it wouldn’t
be as much fun. Was fun the right word here? She shook her head as if to clear it. She
wanted an adventure, damnit.
So…what to do? The first thing that came to her mind was to follow one of those
ravines down towards the lake. Going downhill would be easier, and near the lake the
ground looked to be more even. Even so, it would take more time to get to the “Safe Zone”.
Food would run a bit short. She patted the survival knife she carried at her belt. Inside
the hollow handle was some fishing line and a few hooks. She didn’t really need them,
though. She could catch fish without them. Yes, the lake would be ideal. So, she’d have to
go uphill. She looked up at the mountain and grinned. She’d hiked in much rougher places.
He was still uncomfortably soggy when he came to the spot where she’d stopped for a
bit, then seemed to have walked back and forth for a while before setting out on the trail
again. Her footprints were easily visible in the still-damp earth. He was a bit puzzled.
There didn’t seem to be any reason for her to do that. Maybe she was trying to work out a
cramp?
He shrugged. It wasn’t that important anyway. He set off along the trail again,
grinning in anticipation of the night to come. It took him some time to realize he’d been
had. He took out his radio and called Lloyd and Kurt.
“Yeah?” Kurt sounded tired and testy.
“Any sign of her yet?” he asked.
“Not yet.” Kurt replied. “Why?”
“Doesn’t she seem to be running a bit late?”
“Well, yeah…” Kurt agreed. “You have her in sight?”
“Nope.” He answered. “She went off the trail someplace back. I have to go find out
where. Lloyd with you?’
“About a half-mile away now.”
“Okay. The two of you wait there until you hear from me. She might double back
yet.”
As he clicked off the radio, he grinned to himself. It looked like the elf-girl
wanted to make them work for her. That was fine by him. He always liked it when they did
that. Nothing in the world beat hunting down human prey. Mentally, though, he was kicking
himself for simply assuming she’d stick to the trail and not bothering to look for her
tracks. Well, she’d fooled him that once. He retraced his steps, looking for her tracks.
He had to go all the way back to the last ravine he’d crossed and re-crossed it. Her
tracks were there on that side, all right, but they didn’t come out on the other. She’d
gone along the ravine, then, where it was too rocky for tracks. He looked uphill and down,
trying to see some clue as to the direction she’d taken. No luck. Okay…which way would she
go?
He wished he had a bit more information to go on than the little in her file. It
didn’t tell him much about her. He sat down on a boulder that the stream in the ravine had
half-excavated to do some thinking. He hadn’t been expecting her to do this. She had,
though, which meant there was a bit more to her than he’d first allowed. He almost
regretted not grabbing her earlier as she pranced in the rain, but she was giving them a
more interesting game to play.
Downhill? Well, maybe. The ground got a lot easier close to the lake, but the
underbrush was a lot thicker there too. He looked up the ravine. It was rocky, very tough
going, and the stream was starting to rise as the rain began draining down the mountain’s
flanks. He clicked on the radio.
“Hey, Kurt…”
“Yeah?”
“Lloyd there yet?”
“He’s here.” Kurt replied.
“Okay, look. I’m at a ravine. She went into it, but didn’t come out. She can only go
up or downhill. One of you head down towards the lake, keep an eye out for her there. I’m
going uphill.”
“You think she went up?” Kurt asked.
“Not sure.” He answered. “She might have gone a little ways just to throw us off. I
think she’s going to try to beat us to the Safe Zone, whichever way she went. So one of
you has to stay put, in case she tries to get back on the trail.”
“Okay…which one of us goes, which one stays?”
“I don’t care. Figure it out yourselves. I’ll call in if I pick up her trail.”
“Roger that.” Kurt acknowledged. “I like it when they run.”
He clicked off the radio and stored it away. That climb looked rugged. He hoped she
didn’t break a leg or something before they caught up to her. He stood and began trudging
up the ravine.
Kimberley noted how fast the water was rising, and decided it might be a good idea
to get up out of this thing and just walk alongside it. She looked around for a way out,
and spotted a smaller gully that fed into the ravine. That ought to do.
It was trickier going than she’d expected. The bed of the gully was mostly loose
rocks that threatened to shift under her weight, and in the end it took maybe half an hour
to climb out onto more level ground. She was breathing heavily when she was done, but at
least now she was safe from being swept away by the water. It was rushing through the
ravine now with a constant hissing roar. The soil must not be very deep to get so much
runoff so quickly, she noted. She struck out upslope, keeping the ravine to her left.
Trees and underbrush sometimes forced her away from it for a while, but she could always
find it again just by going towards the noise. She grinned to herself. They’d have to work
pretty hard to find her now.
The water was getting too high and too fast, and he had to haul himself out of the
ravine by some exposed tree roots and handy vines. Standing on the edge, he looked down at
the water surging by and hoped she hadn’t gotten caught in it. He doubted she had, but if
she’d gotten out on the other side it was going to be damned hard to spot her tracks from
over here. Still, if she went up far enough, she’d strike the upper trail, and probably
follow it for a while at least. Since it wasn’t shown on her map, she wouldn’t be sure
just where it finally led. Shrugging his backpack into a more comfortable position, he
moved uphill. It would be getting dark soon. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to stumble across
her camp before it got too dark. He’s settle for picking up her trail.
Kimberley was feeling rather pleased with herself. She’d hiked a long way today, much of
it over rough ground. She felt a bit tired now, but the good kind of tired you get from
pushing yourself physically. Still...it was getting darker, and soon it would be too dark
to see things she might walk into or trip over. It was time to make camp for the night.
Some time ago, one of the taller trees had toppled over, the result of wind or age
and death. The opening it left in the canopy above had given a number of small pines the
chance to grow. They were pretty thickly clustered, and offered plenty of cover. She eased
in between them, finding a spot just big enough for her to unroll her sleeping bag. This
would be perfect.
She shucked off her backpack, wincing a little as various muscles announced they had
cramps, and propped it up against one of the pines. In a few practiced minutes, she had
the sleeping bag laid out. She sat down gratefully on it and began to unlace her hiking
boots when she paused. What if they came across her during the night? She’d need the boots
for running. But, somehow, the thought of sleeping in her rather muddy boots was
distasteful. If nothing else, they’d get the inside of the sleeping bag dirty. She
shrugged. If they could find her in this cover in the dark, being able to run probably
wouldn’t help her much. She unlaced the boots and placed them carefully close to hand, so
she could find them in the dark. Her socks she kept on. It felt like it was going to be a
cold night, and she’d welcome any little extra insulation she could get. The last thing
she did before climbing into the bag was to retrieve her canteen and some food from her
backpack. She wouldn’t risk a fire tonight.
He’d been searching the ground carefully as he moved uphill, looking for any sign that
elf-girl had been this way. It slowed him down, but if he came across her trail he was
sure he could catch up to her in time. Meantime, until he did find her trail speed meant
nothing.
It was almost too dark to see when he came across what he’d been looking for. There
in a patch of bare ground were three distinct boot prints, heading uphill. They looked
fresh, they looked like hers, and in any case, who else would be out here now? He couldn’t
tell how long ago they’d been made. Could be a few minutes, could be a few hours. But she
was definitely heading upslope, and would probably find the upper trail some time tomorrow
morning. He took out his radio. It only had enough range to reach whoever had stayed put
on the trail, but that ought to be enough. Once he’d made his report he could think about
where to sack out for the night. All he had for sleeping was a blanket roll, but that
would be enough. When he was still in the Rangers, often he’d had to manage with a lot
less.
Zippered snugly into her sleeping bag, Kimberley slept very soundly, untroubled by
dreams.
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