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Authors: ALICE HENDERSON
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she found the reservations that had been made for the past few days.
And almost immediately she saw Noah’s name. It was even at the top of the page. Noah Lanchester.
Madeline furrowed her brow. She didn’t see how the ranger could have missed it. It had immediately caught her attention. She looked back down the hallway. He wasn’t in sight. Returning her attention to the book, she saw that Noah had taken a three-day backcountry pass and was due back tomorrow. She looked at the initials of the ranger who had checked Noah in. MZ. As in Michael Zuwalski, the same initials of the ranger she had just been talking to. Wouldn’t he remember someone he had checked in just the day before? She scanned over the names and dates before and after Noah. Only one other party had gone out besides him that day, a couple who were only going to be gone overnight. Surely the ranger would have remembered him then. And she doubted there was more than one ranger at the station with the initials MZ.
Shuffling in the corridor alerted her to the ranger’s return. She rotated the book back around and stood there, trying to look innocent. He emerged from the corridor and walked back behind the counter.
“It was the generator, all right. That thing’s always acting up.” He gave her a smile, but she couldn’t bring herself to smile back. Was he intentionally lying, or was it an honest mistake? She didn’t see how he could forget so quickly. And what about the image of blood? It was so vague. The ranger could have just cut himself slicing bread for all she knew. But her gut pulled at her. Something was wrong. She didn’t trust this guy. The same sense that told her she’d be safe with Noah was now gnawing at her to get away.
But she had to find help. Perhaps another ranger was nearby.
She waited until he reached the desk again, and then asked, “Is it possible another ranger checked him in?” She hoped he would tell her when the other rangers were on duty, or where she could find them.
But instead he only answered, “No.”
Madeline waited a long time, hoping he’d say something further, but he only watched her, tight-lipped, as if waiting for her to say something.
“Well,” she said at last. “Thanks.” For nothing, she added mentally and turned from the counter. Shouldn’t he at least have offered to assist her , if nothing else? She had suffered a “nasty blow,” as he had put it.
“Good luck,” the ranger told her. “It’s wild and woolly out there.”
For a second Madeline paused before she went out the door. She almost turned to confront him, to ask him why he was lying about Noah. But then she decided she’d go find another ranger. Something was wrong here, and her instincts told her to get away from him. Somehow she had to find help elsewhere. Noah could be out there, right then, gravely wounded.
Or worse, came a grim voice from within her. With utter clarity, the sounds of his agonized screams returned to her. She ran a nervous hand over her face and left the ranger station, stepping once more into the desolation of the backcountry.
Beyond the building she saw the lone structures of two typical National Park Service vaulted toilets, dry toilets that were a step up from pit toilets. She hadn’t stopped for anything but sleep since last night. Her bladder pressing painfully, she headed for the toilets.
The smell of pine was strong in the air as a wind kicked up, blowing down into the valley where the ranger station was settled. Overhead a few clouds had gathered during the night, and Madeline found herself shivering a bit in spite of her warm fleece. Noah’s warm fleece, she thought.
She approached the dark wooden structures and selected the one marked Ladies, surprised at how little the toilet smelled. The faint scent of citrus from an air freshener wafted in the still air, and a fly buzzed dully at a small, square window. Her boots squeaking on the smooth cement floor, she entered.
Madeline had just
And almost immediately she saw Noah’s name. It was even at the top of the page. Noah Lanchester.
Madeline furrowed her brow. She didn’t see how the ranger could have missed it. It had immediately caught her attention. She looked back down the hallway. He wasn’t in sight. Returning her attention to the book, she saw that Noah had taken a three-day backcountry pass and was due back tomorrow. She looked at the initials of the ranger who had checked Noah in. MZ. As in Michael Zuwalski, the same initials of the ranger she had just been talking to. Wouldn’t he remember someone he had checked in just the day before? She scanned over the names and dates before and after Noah. Only one other party had gone out besides him that day, a couple who were only going to be gone overnight. Surely the ranger would have remembered him then. And she doubted there was more than one ranger at the station with the initials MZ.
Shuffling in the corridor alerted her to the ranger’s return. She rotated the book back around and stood there, trying to look innocent. He emerged from the corridor and walked back behind the counter.
“It was the generator, all right. That thing’s always acting up.” He gave her a smile, but she couldn’t bring herself to smile back. Was he intentionally lying, or was it an honest mistake? She didn’t see how he could forget so quickly. And what about the image of blood? It was so vague. The ranger could have just cut himself slicing bread for all she knew. But her gut pulled at her. Something was wrong. She didn’t trust this guy. The same sense that told her she’d be safe with Noah was now gnawing at her to get away.
But she had to find help. Perhaps another ranger was nearby.
She waited until he reached the desk again, and then asked, “Is it possible another ranger checked him in?” She hoped he would tell her when the other rangers were on duty, or where she could find them.
But instead he only answered, “No.”
Madeline waited a long time, hoping he’d say something further, but he only watched her, tight-lipped, as if waiting for her to say something.
“Well,” she said at last. “Thanks.” For nothing, she added mentally and turned from the counter. Shouldn’t he at least have offered to assist her , if nothing else? She had suffered a “nasty blow,” as he had put it.
“Good luck,” the ranger told her. “It’s wild and woolly out there.”
For a second Madeline paused before she went out the door. She almost turned to confront him, to ask him why he was lying about Noah. But then she decided she’d go find another ranger. Something was wrong here, and her instincts told her to get away from him. Somehow she had to find help elsewhere. Noah could be out there, right then, gravely wounded.
Or worse, came a grim voice from within her. With utter clarity, the sounds of his agonized screams returned to her. She ran a nervous hand over her face and left the ranger station, stepping once more into the desolation of the backcountry.
Beyond the building she saw the lone structures of two typical National Park Service vaulted toilets, dry toilets that were a step up from pit toilets. She hadn’t stopped for anything but sleep since last night. Her bladder pressing painfully, she headed for the toilets.
The smell of pine was strong in the air as a wind kicked up, blowing down into the valley where the ranger station was settled. Overhead a few clouds had gathered during the night, and Madeline found herself shivering a bit in spite of her warm fleece. Noah’s warm fleece, she thought.
She approached the dark wooden structures and selected the one marked Ladies, surprised at how little the toilet smelled. The faint scent of citrus from an air freshener wafted in the still air, and a fly buzzed dully at a small, square window. Her boots squeaking on the smooth cement floor, she entered.
Madeline had just
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