Night Prey (4 page)

Keith burst out of the barn on his bike. Jenna clicked on her headlight and sped out after him. He waited for her on the road. The hum and
putt putt
sound of the bike motor surrounded her as she caught up with him, and they headed toward the dark horizon.

T
he helmet enveloped Keith's head, pressing on his ears and creating an insulated sensation. He glanced back, taking note of the soft glow of Jenna's headlight. Despite the rough terrain, she kept up pretty well. Part of him wished he could leave her behind and check out the danger on his own. He didn't want to put her at risk. But he doubted she'd let him go without her, and he wasn't about to let her go into the canyon by herself. Even after all these years, he felt the need to protect her.

Still, the pinprick to his heart, the memory of her rejection, had made him hesitate. When he had held her in his arms on the roof, her hand on his chest had seared through him. It had taken every ounce of strength he had to pull away.

At seventeen, he had just begun to see Jenna as a young woman. He had been clumsy and unsure of himself. His attraction for her came out through roughhousing and verbal jousts. When they were on the roof, her touch had been like breath on a glowing ember. He clenched his jaw. He revved the throttle on the bike and lurched forward. So what if the feelings were still there, stronger than ever? That didn't mean he had to
do anything about the attraction and be hurt by her all over again.

The road narrowed. The bike bounced over the rocks. Up ahead, he could see the dark shadows of the granite boulders that formed the opening to Leveridge Canyon. He stopped the bike and flipped up his visor. The smooth hum of Jenna's bike growing closer filled the night air. The crescent moon hung just above the flat-topped buttes in the distance.

Jenna came beside him, geared down the dirt bike and flipped up her visor.

Keith pointed. “If we go this way, we can get pretty far into the canyon before we have to hike in.”

She nodded. “Sounds good,” she shouted as she revved up the bike motor. She flipped down her visor and sped off, kicking up dirt.

He closed the distance between them and rode beside her. She nodded in his direction and then sped a little ahead. Finally, she brought the bike to a stop and dismounted. Keith caught up with her, stopped his bike and pushed the kick stand down.

Jenna pulled off her helmet, gathered up her long hair and twisted it into some kind of knot that held it off her face. He had never quite figured out how she did that. Moonlight washed over her tanned skin accentuating the melting curves of her neck.

She hung the helmet on the handlebars.

Keith turned away. His forearms had begun to hurt from shifting gears and managing the bike over uneven terrain. “You probably ride all the time.” He massaged the area above his wrist. Frustration shot through him.
He just wanted to be able to do the things he used to do and not have to be reminded of his injury.

“Bikes do come in handy for work sometimes. Only when I try to start one, it takes three or four tries. It was nice to have help this time.”

He detected a tone of gratitude in her voice.

She turned off the headlight on her motorcycle and took in a deep breath. “Tell me we have a flashlight.”

“Why? You scared of the dark?” he teased as he clicked off his headlight.

“I'm not scared. You're the big chicken,” she said.

He picked up on the strain in her voice. They were joking because they were both nervous about what they might find in the canyon.

Sitting in the darkness, he said a quick prayer that he would be able to keep Jenna safe. His calm returned.

He loved the remote parts of the ranch far away from houses and any artificial light. The intensity of the darkness had always caused his heart to beat faster. Tonight, the surrounding vastness reminded him of how huge God was. He was just a speck in the universe and God loved him anyway.

“I'm not afraid, are you?” she challenged and then laughed at their game. Her boots scraped the hard rock. She moved so she was standing next to him. Her shoulder brushed against his, sending a charge of electricity up his arm. “It's like a game of chicken, right?” she whispered.

They stood for a moment, shoulders pressed together. The game helped lighten the tension over what they might be facing in the canyon. Keith focused on the gentle inhale and exhale of Jenna's breathing.

He leaned forward and felt along the handlebars until he touched the canvas tool bag, then reached in. His fingers wrapped around the cold metal cylinder of the flashlight. He clicked on the light and shone it in her direction being careful not to shine it directly in her eyes.

“Should we get going?” She turned and headed into the canyon.

Once she wasn't looking at him, he touched the gun on his hip. He had every confidence all his training meant he could deal with whatever they faced, but could Jenna? Once again, he thought that maybe he should have told her to go back home. But he knew he wouldn't have been able to talk her out of coming. Her determination to end the threat against her birds was strong. That somebody thought his grandparents' land was open for public use was wearing on him, too. The sooner they got to the bottom of this, the better.

He increased his pace and caught up with Jenna. He tuned into the sounds around him, ready to respond to any threat.

He shone the flashlight ahead of her. “Careful, you don't want to fall.”

“I'll be fine,” she said.

They hiked over the rocky ground as the canyon walls closed in on them.

She stopped and grabbed his wrist. “You hear that?” She spoke in a harsh whisper.

Keith turned his head and listened. A faint mechanical thrum, like a bee buzzing under a glass jar, pressed on his ears. He shone the light. Only the granite walls of the canyon came into view.

Jenna rested a hand on his shoulder. “We must be close. I say we keep going.”

He picked up on a hint of fear in her voice. “Let me stay in front.” He trudged forward, and she followed behind him. The noise faded in and out, but always sounded far away. The canyon walls, though, had a way of creating echoes that played tricks with sound.

The smolder of wood burning thickened the air and filled his nostrils. They were close.

The distance between the walls of the canyon increased as they stepped into an open flat spot with no vegetation.

He shone the flashlight which revealed motorcycle and four-wheeler tracks. “What happened here?”

“Trespassers, big-time.” Anger coursed through Keith. The nerve of people disrespecting his grandparents like this.

Jenna grabbed his hand and aimed the flashlight toward the source of the smoke. “It looks like the campfire was just put out.” She walked over to it and kicked at the rocks that formed a circle.

Keith edged toward Jenna. “We could hear the sound of their bikes on the way up the canyon. They are probably still pretty close.”

Even though he couldn't hear anything now, an inner instinct told him they were not safe. The air felt stirred up.

He shone the light around the edges of the camp. Only blackness. A coyote howled in the distance. Jenna gripped his arm. Keith aimed the flashlight a few feet from the fire, revealing empty beer bottles. He wanted
to believe that it was just teenagers having a party, but something felt more sinister here.

“Where do you suppose they went?”

He stepped away from the fire. The tire tracks went around in circles like someone was joyriding.

She continued to hold his arm as they stepped toward the surrounding forest. Some of the tracks led out of the camp to the east and others went in the opposite direction. “They split up,” she said.

Or maybe not. It was hard to tell. The tire impressions were distorted by darkness and uneven ground. The riders had crisscrossed over each other's paths a dozen times.

As if she had read his mind, Jenna said, “I count two four-wheelers and two, maybe three dirt bikes.”

“At least.” It was a big group, anyway. He turned his attention in the other direction. Maybe another three or four riders had gone that way. What were they after? What had brought them here?

Jenna gripped his arm even tighter. “That's a lot of people,” she said.

Whether they were teenagers or not, the thought of someone tromping around his grandfather's ranch and shooting at him and Jenna infuriated him. Had Gramps's land been targeted because he was older and less able to fight back?

Jenna tensed. “They're coming back.” Panic filled her voice.

The mechanical clang of a bike motor echoed through the canyon. “I can't tell where it's coming from.” Keith angled his torso to one side and then pivoted in the opposite direction.

The noise grew louder, then softer, then increased in volume again.

“This way.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and stepped toward a stand of trees. After Jenna slipped behind a tree, he clicked off the flashlight and settled beside her on the ground.

The roar of the bike intensified. A second motor was added to the mix. He brushed a hand over the gun in his holster. Jenna pressed close to him.

They crouched with the darkness surrounding them. Jenna's clothes rustled as she shifted on the ground. She stiffened when the bike noise got louder and then relaxed when the clatter of the motors faded.

“I think they are gone,” she said as she melted against him.

“Maybe.” He couldn't hear anything, either, but he wasn't convinced the danger was over.

He clicked on the flashlight to have a quick look. Jenna uttered a sound as though she were about to say something. But then her fingers gripped his upper arm.

The roar of a four-wheeler was on top of them with the suddenness of an explosion.

Jenna stood up halfway, and Keith pulled her down as he clicked off the light. “You'll be seen.”

In an instant, a four-wheeler was in the camp, followed by a second one, blocking the path Keith and Jenna had taken into the canyon. As the noise assaulted his ears, adrenaline surged through him. They couldn't leave the way they had come. Jenna clung to him, wrapping her arm through his.

The riders wore helmets, making it impossible to
tell who they were. One of the four-wheelers turned in their direction, catching them in the headlights. They'd been spotted. Keith turned, pulling Jenna deeper into the trees.

The rider turned off his engine and dismounted from the bike. He stalked toward the trees where they had taken cover.

Keith searched his memory for the layout of this part of the ranch as they ran through the forest. Behind them, one of the four-wheelers faded in the distance.

They scrambled through the darkness. A branch whacked against his forehead. He shone the light briefly to find the path with the least hazards and then turned it off.

Jenna tugged on his shirt. “This way.” She sucked in air and struggled to speak. “We can circle back around to the other side of the canyon.”

Behind them, branches broke and cracked. They were being chased.

Still holding on to Jenna, he plunged into the inky darkness. They worked their way down a rocky incline away from the trees. Keith glanced behind them where a light bobbed.

Out of breath, he whispered in her ear. “We need cover.” He directed her back toward the forest.

After ten minutes, he stopped, leaning over and resting his hands on his knees. He took in heaving gusts of air. Jenna leaned against a tree, tilting her head. He slowed his own breathing so he could listen. Maybe they had lost their pursuer. He couldn't hear anyone behind them, but better safe than sorry.

He signaled for them to keep going. She fell in step
behind him, resting her hand on the middle of his back to keep track of him in the dark. Their pace slowed, which allowed them to be more quiet. The forest thinned. Keith turned on the light. The landscape ahead looked familiar. They weren't far from the bikes.

Jenna came alongside. Her breathing had evened out.

They made their way across the rocky landscape. Keith kept his ears tuned to the area around them. Their feet caused an occasional stone to roll and crash against another.

Jenna planted her feet. “Where are the bikes?”

Keith clicked on the light and swept across the area where the bikes should be. The bikes were there, but they had been knocked over. He ran to the first bike and lifted it off the ground. After four tries, it started.

He helped Jenna get her bike up, but repeated attempts at starting didn't even produce a choking sound. Keith lifted his head. The rider who left must have come down here to sabotage their bikes. It was a trap, meant to delay them. And it was working.

 

Jenna pointed from the control cluster across the handlebars. “It looks…looks like they pulled out these wires.” She tried to ignore the rising panic.

“They must have run out of time before they could do that to mine.”

“So they…they just pushed yours over.”

The trauma of what they had been through was getting to her. Keith leaned close. “You doing okay?”

Jenna tilted her head to look into his eyes. His attentiveness helped her shake off the impending panic.
“I'll make it. None of this seems to have ruffled your feathers.”

“I've had more practice.”

“You mean with the military?”

He angled away from her, picking up his helmet off the ground. “There is no electricity getting to the starter on that bike. You'll have to ride with me.”

Just like that, he changed the subject. There were walls between them now that hadn't been there when they were kids. He seemed guarded about sharing any part of himself. What had he been doing for the last twelve years?

Keith got onto the functioning dirt bike and scooted forward, making room for her. Jenna put on her helmet and swung her leg over the bike. She sat up straight and placed her palms delicately on Keith's sides. Being this close to him made her feel even more light-headed and breathless than being chased down the canyon.

Keith flipped up his visor and turned his head toward her. “You can move closer. I don't bite.”

“I'm okay.” The smoldering tone of his voice made her heart race. At the same time, a fear seeped into her consciousness. She really didn't know anything about him, who he had become. The memory of the night of his arrest charged through her with full force. He had come to her for help. She had been afraid then, too, afraid that his turn toward delinquency would destroy her new and fragile faith. Her friends at church had told her to stay away from him. He could talk her into almost anything. She did not want to be pulled into that world. Not when she already knew how badly it could hurt.