Making New Memories
NEW MEMORIES
KAREN WARD
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2011 Glenda Hays
Writing as Karen Ward
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This book is a work of fiction. All names,
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author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
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coincidental.
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Cover images from COVERS BY RAMONA
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Contents
CHAPTER 1
I am shaking uncontrollably from the cold so
I pull the sleeping bag closer around my shoulders. I didn't
survive the last three years practically alone in the wilderness of
Montana to freeze to death now. Ever since leaving Los Angeles
after the scandal that ruined my father and caused him to commit
suicide I have been hiding out in the wilderness to escape the
Paparazzi. I haven't been camping out all this time. I had a cozy
cabin in the mountains just outside of Kalispell, Montana with all
of the basic comforts of home. I occasionally would go into
Kalispell for supplies, but I was recognized the last time I was in
town and now I am once again trying to escape the vultures that
call themselves the media.
Three years ago when I was desperately trying
to outrun the vultures my car broke down in the middle of nowhere
and I was rescued by a mountain man that calls himself Bear. It is
an appropriate name because he is as big and as hairy as a bear but
he is one of the nicest, gentlest people I have ever met.
Bear is at least six foot five with a full
bushy beard and hair nearly down to his waist that he wears pulled
back in a pony tail tied with a leather thong. He furnished me with
the cabin and helped me get settled. He taught me how to fish and
to live off of the land identifying edible berries and plants and
trapping wild animals for food. I have become quite proficient at
shooting, skinning, and cooking rabbits and squirrels. Bear
repaired my car for me and he comes by every few months to make
sure I am all right.
On my last trip into Kalispell I dressed as I
usually did as a young boy with my hair stuffed up under a baseball
cap, no makeup and baggy boy's clothes to disguise my figure, but I
ran right into one of the reporters from LA and he recognized me
immediately. I barely escaped from town but two days later he drove
up to the cabin and I had to leave out the back door with just the
clothes on my back and this sleeping bag that had been stored by
the door and ready for just such an occurrence. I left my car and
all of my belongings at the cabin and now I am trying to survive in
the woods in just jeans, a lightweight sweater, tennis shoes, and
the sleeping bag.
My cell phone battery died the same day I
left the cabin but I did manage to contact my old friend, Barry
Farrady, who promised to send someone for me. He assured me that
they would find me, not to worry. Well, that is easy for him to
say, he is not the one freezing, with no food, sleeping on the
ground in the woods with only a sleeping bag and more snow on the
way.
******
As soon as he disconnects the call from his
old friend Skye Reynolds, Barry Farrady heads across the ranch yard
in the fading evening light, out to the barn in search of his
friend and the head of Drake Security, Dylan Drake. Dylan, known to
his close friends as Scoot and the other three former Marines that
compose Drake Security reside in special quarters over the barn on
the Rock Springs Ranch owned by Barry Farrady, former Academy Award
winning movie star. Barry built the offices for Drake Security and
the living quarters for his buddies soon after he purchased the
ranch two years ago. He served in the Marine Corp with the four for
eight years and they formed a very close bond. Drake Security is
made up of Scoot, Dylan Drake, the leader, Goose, the medic, Stump,
the muscle, and Pinky, the sniper. Barry was a sniper along with
Pinky when they all served together in the Marines.
"Scoot, where are you?" yells Barry.
"In the shower, be right there," answers
Dylan. When he walks out of his bedroom drying his hair he says,
"Hey Barry, what's up?" Dylan immediately notices that Barry seems
anxious with tension visible around his eyes and mouth.
"I have a very important mission for you.
You'll have to go on this one alone, its search and rescue in the
wilderness of Montana," explains Barry, his heart pounding with
trepidation.
"Sure, tell me the details," requests Dylan.
He sits down at the computer.
"An old friend of mine from LA has been
living in a small cabin in the wilderness of Montana near Kalispell
for the last three years trying to escape the Paparazzi. She left
LA after her father committed suicide and the press wouldn't give
her any peace. Anyway, they found her so she abandoned her cabin
and is camping in the woods and we need to get her out of the area
as quietly as possible so they can't follow her. I can give you a
map to the cabin, but after that you will be on your own. I know
she hasn't gone too far and with your tracking skills you should be
able to locate her without too much trouble. The tricky part is
going to be finding her and removing her from the area without
being seen."
He hesitates briefly then continues, "Scoot,
she had a really bad experience as a teenager and she is extremely
terrified of men. Be gentle and patient but do what is necessary to
get her out of the area and back here to the ranch."
The whole time Barry is talking Scoot is
tapping away on the keys of the computer and says, "Well, this
doesn't look good. An early snowstorm is forecast for the area
tomorrow. I'll get my gear together. Would you mind helping get the
helicopter ready? Ask Goose to fly me up, he can drop me in the
search area and then wait for us in Kalispell. We'll leave at first
light." Scoot and Goose leave at dawn the next morning for
Montana.
As Goose is piloting the helicopter toward
their destination, Dylan is reading through the papers Barry had
given him and studying the map of the area. The woman he is going
to rescue is named Skye Reynolds, twenty-eight years old, tall,
slender, with long blonde hair. Looking at her picture Dylan is
mesmerized. The woman is stunning and has the bluest eyes he has
ever seen. He wonders if they were touched up in the picture or if
they really are that blue.
He remembers Barry's name being associated
with hers in the tabloids a few years back. If he's not mistaken,
they were always portrayed as a couple and he wonders what their
relationship was then and what it is now that Barry is married. He
remembers hearing about some kind of scandal surrounding her father
who committed suicide and then she had disappeared. As they
approach the search area, the snow starts falling.
******
I am so cold and so sleepy I can barely hold
my eyes open. My teeth are chattering and I can't stop the violent
shaking. I can't afford to start a fire for warmth because I am
still too close to the cabin and the vultures are sure to see the
smoke. I've got to stay awake so I stand up and move around and
around the small clearing trying to get the blood flowing in my
limbs. My tennis shoes and thin socks are doing little to keep my
feet dry or warm. I can't feel my feet anymore so I stumble
frequently.
The snow started some time ago and is coming
down steadily now. Hopefully someone will find me soon. I keep
walking round and round and then I stumble. This time, I can't get
back up. I am just too tired so I close my eyes and slip into
unconsciousness.
******
Goose drops Dylan about a mile from the
search area to avoid being seen by anyone at the cabin. Dylan
lowers himself down from the helicopter on a cable secured by a
wench to the frame. Moving through the edge of the woods staying
close to the road Dylan sees the cabin in a clearing about one
hundred yards ahead. No lights are glowing from the windows and no
smoke is coming out of the chimney. From here it looks abandoned
except for the cars. He sees a red BMW that Barry said belongs to
Skye and another non-descript dark sedan that is probably a rental
car. Evidently it is running because he can see smoke coming from
the exhaust pipe. These reporters certainly are determined to still
be sitting outside of the cabin waiting for someone to show
themselves in this snowstorm.
Moving quietly through the woods to the back
of the cabin he picks the lock on the door and takes a look around
inside. Grabbing some warm clothes out of the closet in the bedroom
he stuffs them into his backpack. He also finds a loaded 45 pistol
in the bedside table and he sticks it and the holster in his
backpack with the clothes. Seeing snow boots, gloves, and a parka
by the back door he grabs them too. She evidently left in a hurry.
Moving back outside, he starts looking for any sign that will show
him which direction she fled.
The falling snow has covered any signs of
footprints that might have been in the soft earth so he has to look
for other things, broken branches or tall grass that has been
flattened. Finally spotting a patch of tall grass lying almost flat
in the snow he heads down what looks like a narrow path. He sure
hopes he is headed in the right direction. Following what he thinks
are signs he slowly makes his way deep into the woods. The snow is
falling steadily now and it is getting deeper making it harder to
see the signs of her flight. Just as he is getting worried he may
have missed something he enters a small clearing and stumbles
across what he first thinks is a log. When the snow is disturbed he
sees that it is a sleeping bag with someone inside not moving. Oh
God, is he too late? He kneels beside the bag and brushes the snow
off the top. He pulls the zipper down enough for him to see
inside.
He uncovers a blonde head so he removes his
glove and feels for a pulse in her neck. He is relieved when he
finds a weak but steady beat. Quickly digging in his backpack he
removes several instant heat packs and breaks them to activate the
chemical reaction that produces heat. Stuffing them inside the
sleeping bag to help warm her, he then zips the bag back up and
picks her up placing her across his shoulder. He consults his map
and the GPS device on his cell phone then follows his
pre-determined escape route deeper into the woods.
After walking about five miles in the late
afternoon twilight he finds a shallow overhang in a rock formation
that will provide some protection from the howling wind and blowing
snow. He places the sleeping bag containing Skye as close to the
rock face as he can then prepares a fire pit and lights a fire to
warm them. Once the fire is blazing he moves to the sleeping bag
and unzips it to see if he can rouse Skye. Looking at her beautiful
pale face he feels a stirring in his loins. Cursing himself, he
thinks it must be time to pay a visit to one of his regular
companions.
Uncovering her head he checks again for a
pulse. Relieved to find the steady beat, he retrieves the smelling
salts from his First Aid kit and waves it under her nose.
Peeeeuuuuu...What is that awful smell? I move
my head to try to get away from the smell and slowly open my
eyes.
The first thing Dylan notices is the color of
her eyes. They are just as blue as the Montana sky on a clear day.
The same color as they looked in the picture. Smiling warmly, he
says, "Hello sleepyhead."
