Get Out of Denver (Denver Burning Book 1) (12 page)

“It’s the middle of the night. I’m tired. We were almost robbed, on my watch! What do you want me to do, kiss him on the cheek and hand out cookies?”

McLean shook his head and swung into the saddle. “Nope. But you were the one talking about turning the other cheek a few days back. Changed your mind?”

Carrie grunted. “They would have taken our horses, and who knows what else? DJ can’t walk. We would have been practically left for dead! Just because the lights go out, now everybody we meet is a criminal? To hell with them.” She shook her head and led the way down the trail.

JD, who had been helping DJ up onto his horse, mounted up himself. After waiting a moment for Carrie and DJ to get farther down the trail, he asked McLean, “What, ah, what exactly did you two see at the highway the other day? You never went into detail.”

McLean grimaced. “Things that don’t bear talking about. I’m sure you can imagine, if you try.”

JD shook his head. “That girl has changed. Some ways good, some ways bad. She got the horses back when it counted, and she’s pulled her weight well. But there’s obviously trouble in her mind.”

McLean snorted. “Having second thoughts about her?”

“No, no,” JD replied. “It’s just that… well, we ought to keep an eye on her, I guess.”

“Agreed. This stuff affects us all differently. Not everybody can take it in stride. We’ll give each other some space, and offer support as needed. She’ll be all right.”

“I sure hope so,” JD said.

They rode out into the night.

The next day the rain returned, harder than ever.

“I hope this is falling on Denver and putting out some of those fires,” DJ remarked.

“They’ll need a lot more than rain,” McLean said. “If anyone’s smart enough to collect it, it may give them something to drink, though.”

They had left the cabin valleys behind and were ascending a series of steep slopes to get over a wall of mountains that blocked their path to the ranch. The rain intensified as they reached a high pass, and it began to be mixed with sleet. They were traveling inside a cloud formation now, and the driving rain and fog obscured everything beyond a dozen yards.

The trail wound steeply down a hillside that had ten-foot drops all around, and they were forced to pick their way slowly along on foot, leading their horses with one hand and using the other to steady themselves. Every so often one of the horses would trigger a small rockslide in the loose, muddy soil and it was all they could do to stay upright.

After one such close call, DJ suggested they take a break.

“Can’t stop here,” JD said, gritting his teeth against the cold wind that had come up. “We’ve got to get down to more level ground and find some shelter nearby.”

“How do you even know there is a good place nearby?” DJ retorted.

“He’s got a good point,” McLean told JD privately as they rode together at the front, breaking trail for the others. “One of us ought to go on ahead and scout a location before this gets any worse.”

“Yeah. Preferably two of us, so one can stay and prep the camp while the other comes back to guide the others.”

McLean looked at the other riders’ animals. “JD, I think your horse is in the best shape. DJ will be doing well if he can just get his down the mountain in one piece. Carrie’s is okay for now, but I wouldn’t trust it to go any faster.” Implicit but unspoken was the fact that DJ and Carrie were the least confident riders, and JD and McLean could move on much more quickly without the other two. “I’ll have a word with the others.”

He stepped his horse aside and waited for DJ and Carrie to come up. “JD and I will hurry ahead and find a sheltered spot,” he told them. “Can you two make it down the hill all right if you take it slow?”

Carrie didn’t say a word. She hadn’t spoken much since the highway.

“Yeah. We’ll be all right, I think,” DJ said. “Make sure you have a fire going when we get there. I’m freezing.”

McLean looked Carrie in the eye, ignoring the water that was being blown into his eyes and streaming down his face. “Carrie? You going to be all right?” She nodded.

He performed a radio check with DJ to make sure the little handhelds they’d collected at Morgan’s ranch were still charged and transmitting. Then he wheeled his horse around and hurried after JD, who was already thirty yards ahead on the slope.

McLean urged his horse forward through the mud and rocks. It was a large, muscular beast and had no problem navigating the rain-soaked mountainside. Morgan had given this one to McLean because he was the tallest of the group. JD’s mount was smaller, but he was the most seasoned rider. Minutes later the two advance scouts were down the slope and out of sight, hurrying past huge boulders and gnarled pines.

When they finally reached the point where the trail bottomed out and followed a draw down toward a more sheltered canyon valley, they had to ford a small river that had taken over what used to be a dry wash. Then they bushwhacked through some scrub oak and cut over toward a patch of forest on a gentle slope that looked promising in terms of drainage and shelter from the wind and rain.

Back on the mountainside, DJ was leading the way as he and Carrie picked their way slowly down the trail. The wind was howling now and whipping the rain around them like a tornado. Carrie’s horse kept trying to jostle past DJ’s in its eagerness to get down the mountain, which didn’t help DJ in his efforts to keep his mare on the trail.

“This is just great!” he shouted into the wind. “All we need now is some thunder and lightning to spook the horses!” Carrie didn’t reply but forced her animal to back off and give DJ some space, waiting until he was several yards ahead before continuing. She didn’t want to add to DJ’s complaints, but she could feel the temperature dropping and she was pretty sure the rain was turning to sleet.

As they neared the final stretch that led into the wash that was now a torrent, DJ’s radio crackled loudly. He had the volume turned up all the way so he’d hear it, but it happened at exactly the wrong moment as his horse had dipped its head near the radio while it planted its legs against another small slide.

At the sudden, unnatural noise, the mare bucked and reared away from DJ, jerking on its reins and pulling him off balance. His own feet started to slide, and he dropped the reins to steady himself. The mare scrambled with all four legs in a desperate attempt to keep its footing, but DJ could see that it was coming down at him.

He turned aside and twisted his foot against a boulder just as the animal ploughed past him. It knocked him backward over the boulder, wrenching his foot up, and he tumbled head over heels down the hillside with his horse. Carrie watched it all from a few yards back, unable to do anything to stop it.

The mare rolled over on its back, shedding some of the gear from the saddle, and came to its feet farther down the slope. With a pained, frightened scream, it ran sideways along the mountain toward some trees. DJ huddled in the mud, moaning.

Carrie hurried down to him, clutching at her own reins with one hand and trying to help DJ with the other. “Where are you hurt?” she asked. “Can you get up?” She tried to keep an eye on DJ’s mare as well, which was rapidly disappearing into the fog.

DJ sat up, spitting mud and brushing pebbles off his jacket. “I’m fine! Don’t worry about me, catch that stupid horse. I’m… ow!” He felt his ankle. “Uh-oh.”

Carrie knelt and pulled up DJ’s pant leg to expose his hiking boot. She felt the ankle. “This looks like a sprain, DJ. Does it feel like it’s swelling?”

“Yeah. Crap.”

Carrie untied his boot and laid him back against his backpack, raising his foot and propping it up on her own. Then she picked up the radio from where it had fallen, wiped the mud from it, and tried to transmit. “McLean! JD! This is Carrie. Can you hear me?”

There was no answer. “McLean, this is Carrie,” she tried again. “DJ’s hurt. We’re on the mountainside still. Can you hear me?” Still nothing.

“This weather’s probably cutting the range in half,” DJ said. “You’ll never get through unless they’re practically in sight.”

Carrie tried again, with no luck.

“Hey, your horse!” DJ cried, pointing. Carrie turned in time to see her own horse following the other toward the trees, more slowly this time but just as determined to get out of the weather. She jumped up and yelled at it, but the animal didn’t even turn its head.

The rain pelted down harder, and it was definitely turning to sleet now. Bits of icy slush were collecting in the folds of Carrie’s jacket.

“We have to get you off this mountain,” Carrie said, fear growing in her chest. “But I don’t think I can get you down myself.”

“You’d better go get those horses,” DJ replied, eyes mirroring Carrie’s worry.

“No, I should stay with you,” she said. “If you go into shock…”

“I’ll be fine. But if we lose the horses, this journey will take weeks, even if I make it down from here alive.”

“Don’t panic,” Carrie said. “You’re not going to die from a sprained ankle.” She pulled an emergency blanket from DJ’s pack and tore the foil sheet from its plastic wrapper. Stretching it over DJ, she tucked it in underneath him. “Stay here on the trail so the others will find you when they come. Keep as warm as you can, and keep that foot elevated. I’ll be back as quickly as I can. Keep trying to get those guys on the radio.”

DJ nodded. Carrie pulled a flashlight and pocket knife out of her bag, and DJ handed her a short length of rope from his. She stood up and hurried after the horses.

“Carrie! I’m sorry,” DJ called after her. “Be careful!”

She ignored him and cut across the slope, sliding in the mud and wet grass, until she got to the trees where the horses had disappeared. They weren’t there, and she could see why. The trees were too far apart to provide any real shelter from the wind and rain, and there was a cliff face farther along the slope that looked like it could offer a break from the wind driving down the mountain. She headed for it, turning her face away from the wind.

The elements she was battling outside were a perfect match for her inner struggle to push away the darkness and despair she felt after witnessing the scene at the highway. She was well acquainted with the ugliness of the world, and more so after the last several days. But watching an atrocity occur right in front of her without being able to intervene had disturbed her deeply.

“Where are those other two men?” she asked herself angrily as she stumbled along. “Stupid, worthless radio.” She knew that even if she found the horses and managed to corner them somehow, it would be a miracle if she somehow managed to drag them by herself back to DJ’s location. But she also knew that if she didn’t, DJ would be in serious trouble. She had no idea how long it would take McLean and JD to come back and find them. She hoped the thin emergency blanket would be enough to keep DJ from going hypothermic. It was all they had at the moment; their tents were with the horses.

Near the cliff she spotted a broad hoofprint in the mud and knew she was on the right track. But she still couldn’t see the horses anywhere. “How did they get so far so fast?” she muttered. “I wish they could have been this speedy when it mattered.”

The animals weren’t anywhere in the vicinity of the cliff. She looked around, wiping a stream of freezing rain from her face, and saw a deer trail where they might have picked their way down from the cliff base to a draw downhill from it. The draw led into another patch of trees where the horses might have gone to shelter. She couldn’t see any more likely route, so she followed the deer trail.

When she made it into the trees, she finally saw the horses. Both of them were standing under a large fir tree, rubbing against each other’s sides for warmth. One of them saw her and whinnied.

“Gotcha,” she said, and started toward them with her rope in hand. She only got within three yards before they both left the trees, plunging out into the rain to avoid her.

“Hey! No!” Carrie shouted. “I don’t have time for this.”

She ran after them, and saw that they were moving to another more dense group of trees. Between the stands of timber, however, a large creek had formed from all the runoff. The horses cantered across it with only a splash or two, and climbed the opposite bank to get into the trees. The creek formed a more difficult obstacle for Carrie. She didn’t have a good way across, and soaked feet would not mix well with the cold weather.

She fought back tears and tried to push the fear and distress away with rage. “I’m
not
going to let those animals get away from me, and I’m
not
going to let DJ or the others down.” She took a running leap and landed mostly on the far side of the creek, getting only one foot wet. Then she rushed up the bank, hooking her coiled rope around an exposed rock to haul herself upward.

When she gained the top of the bank, she spotted the horses again. This time they were backed up against a thicket of dense brambles. She sidled up to them, and when DJ’s mare tried to move she blocked it in. “No you don’t. Do NOT mess with me again,” Carrie yelled. She raised the coil of rope up to smack the horses in the face if they tried to rush her. “You’re coming with me, back out in that storm, whether you want to or not!”

She got hold of her own horse’s reins and then grabbed the other one. Quickly looping the rope through its reins, she tied it to the pommel of her own saddle. She did this without letting go of her own horse, and then hoisted herself up into the saddle. “Now, get!” she shouted, kicking the horse into action. “And don’t give me any more trouble or it will be the end of you!”