Chapter 3 - Ghost in the Timber
The descent into Black Ridge Ravine was a descent into an older, indifferent world. The canopy overhead thickened until the daylight died to a murky twilight. Rain fell in steady sheets, turning the soil into slick clay that demanded every ounce of Cole’s core strength to control the litter’s descent.
Ranger moved five paces ahead, testing the footing, his tail held low and rigid. Whenever the German Shepherd paused and raised a paw, Cole stopped instantly, waiting until the dog confirmed the ground ahead was solid rather than an undercut bank waiting to shear off.
"How much do you weigh, Nora?" Cole asked quietly as they navigated a shelf of wet slate.
"Ninety-five pounds," she said, her voice tight against the jarring movement. "Since the accident two years ago. I lost twenty pounds of muscle."
"What was the accident?"
"A car crash. Marcus was driving." Her knuckles turned white where she gripped the aluminum tubing of the litter. "He walked away with a bruised collarbone. I woke up from a coma three weeks later with a crushed T10 vertebra. He told everyone he was devoted to my recovery. He gave up his corporate job to be my 'full-time caretaker.'"
"And the reality?"
"The reality is my father owned Vance Logistics," Nora whispered, the rain streaming down her pale cheeks. "When my father died eighteen months ago, he left seventy percent of the company and an eight-million-dollar trust to me. Controlled solely by me. If I died without heirs, everything transferred to Marcus. But three days ago, I found out he had been transferring funds into offshore dummy accounts. I hired a private auditor. The audit was supposed to deliver its report tomorrow morning."
Cole’s jaw tightened. "So today was his deadline."
"Today was his deadline," she agreed. Her teeth began to chatter violently, the cold finally biting deep into her nervous system. "He brought me up here to 'celebrate our anniversary.' He said he wanted to show me the valley from the ridge."
"Save your breath," Cole ordered gently. "We’re losing body heat. Don't talk unless you have to."
Cole reached a natural overhang carved out by centuries of runoff—a low cave beneath a shelf of granite, hidden behind a curtain of wild blackberry brambles. It was dry inside, the dirt floor powdery and clean.
He slid the litter into the shelter. He pulled an emergency bivvy sack from his rucksack, along with two chemical heat packs. He cracked the packs, shook them until they radiated heat, and tucked them inside Nora’s jacket against her femoral arteries and under her arms.
May you like
"We stay here until the initial wave of emergency vehicles passes," Cole said. "Marcus will be surrounded by deputies and paramedics. That buys us our window."
Above them, faintly through the howling wind, the first sirens began to wail along the ridge road.
