High Intensity (High Mountain Trackers HMT 2G #2)

Chapter 10

Ten

Wolff

Since I saw her body disappear into the crevice a few minutes ago, I’ve been fighting the temptation to go up there after her.

Instead, I’m trying to calm Hunter, who is whining even harder now she can’t see Jillian anymore, while I keep my eyes peeled on the ledge above.

I’m not a praying man, but I find myself silently pleading with some unseen force that she found the little girl. Alive.

“Wolff?” Jillian’s head pops out over the ledge. “She’s here. We’re going to need medical here.”

Shit .

It’s going to be tough for EMTs to find their way up here and, unfortunately, Bo went home to sleep. It would be more efficient if I could carry her down to base camp and meet up with EMTs there.

“Is she injured?”

“I can see some scratches and bruising, but she’s weak; probably hypothermic and dehydrated. She’s in and out. We need to get her out of here.”

“I’m gonna carry her,” I make the decision. “Let me radio it in and then I’m coming up.”

Her head disappears, as I put a call in to base camp and report the situation to Jackson, who answers. He’s going to call EMTs and the sheriff’s office to meet us when I carry her down.

My winter boots aren’t going to cut it but, since I don’t carry climbing shoes in my pack, I’m going barefoot. I leave the boots and tuck my socks inside, so I have something dry to put on my feet. I hope we can do this quickly so I don’t get frostbite.

Next, I shrug my pack off my shoulders, pull out the two coils of twenty-foot buckled tie-downs I carry with me, and shove them in my pockets, along with my water flask. Then I climb up on the boulder.

“Good girl, Hunter, you stay. We’ll be right back.”

I have no idea if the dog gets what I’m saying, but it makes me feel better for leaving her here.

Going up, I’m not quite as nimble or fast as Jillian was climbing to the ledge, but—despite the fact my toes are already frozen and tingling—I make it without losing my footing. I stay flat on my stomach and turn my head to peer into the crevice.

The space is barely large enough for Jillian and the girl, who, I see, has been wrapped up in a mylar blanket. No way I’m going to fit in there as well.

“Jillian, I’m going to give you my parka and I need you to put it on her,” I tell her as I sit up to unzip. “It’s going to be way too big, but it’ll function as padding when we lower her down. Make sure the hood is up to protect her head. I have two straps; we’ll fashion a harness with one, and the other I’ll use to lower her to you.”

I’m going to be fucking cold, but I should be okay once we get moving. Luckily, it’s not as bitter cold or windy as it has been recently. I slide my coat toward Jillian and hand her the water flask as well.

“See if you can get her to drink some.”

“Careful!” Jillian yells at me ten minutes later.

We were able to get Hayley down safely, but I’m not so sure I’ll make it in one piece. My fucking feet are numb and I slipped twice already, trying to climb down.

“I can’t believe you were barefoot,” she scolds me when I try to put on my socks over my uncooperative feet.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Well, I hope, for your sake, you didn’t do permanent damage,” she grumbles.

When I have my feet back in my boots and make sure my snowshoes are attached tightly, I turn to lift Hayley from Jillian’s arms. She’s been holding her all this time, and shakes out her arms the moment I relieve her of her load.

I peek under the hood and notice the girl’s eyes are open, but I don’t think it’s me she sees. She has dark blond or brown hair like her mother, and her eyes are the color of whiskey, but they’re blank. The poor kid is tiny, she weighs next to nothing. It’s a damn miracle she was able to last this long.

Carefully shifting her a little higher in my arms, I start moving, retracing our steps to the shelter.

“I can’t believe she survived,” I tell Jillian in a low voice when she falls in step beside me.

“She’s resourceful. Among other things, I found a lighter in her pack, and apparently, she was able to build a small fire up there. The ashes were cool though, so I figure maybe she became too weak to climb down and gather more sticks and bark to burn. I also noticed an empty water bottle, and another one she used to relieve herself in. There was little urine and it was dark.”

“That’s how you figured she was dehydrated.”

“That, and her disoriented and weakened state, although hypothermia would’ve played a part as well. She was like an icicle when I touched her, and so pale. If I hadn’t heard her move moments before, I would’ve thought we were too late.”

We’re moving at a brisk pace, the snow easier going since our earlier footprints packed it down a bit. Also, I need to keep moving to generate some heat. You’d think with the girl held so tightly against me, it would be warm sharing body heat, but there isn’t much warmth radiating from her.

We only take one short break, mainly to give Hunter a well-deserved drink, but we also try to get Hayley to take some more water. Unfortunately, that is less successful. I don’t think she’s conscious and most of it dribbles down her chin.

“She needs an IV,” Jillian mumbles as I lift the girl up again.

I grunt my agreement as I start moving again, even faster. I’m less worried about Jillian keeping up than I am about the girl slipping away in my arms if we don’t get her some help.

There is no more talking as we hurry back to base camp. Despite her small size, my arms are trembling and muscles burning with the effort of carrying her all this time. I feel a surge of relief when I can see the tent shelter through the trees.

The guys must’ve been keeping an eye out, because Jackson is already pushing the tent flap aside when we approach.

“EMTs?” I ask as I duck past him inside.

They cleared all the electronic equipment from the large folding table and covered it with a horse blanket. I lay her down and, disturbingly, her head lolls to one side.

“ETA five minutes,” JD is the one to answer.

“Leave it on,” Jillian says, putting a hand on my arm when I start unzipping my coat, which is way too big on the little girl. “Let the medics do it.”

On the other side, Hunter hops on the edge of the table with her front paws and shoves her nose inside the hood of the parka, sniffing Hayley’s face.

“You did good, girl,” Jillian coos at her dog, grabbing her by the collar.

On the table, Hayley softly moans. At the same time, two EMTs walk into the tent.

I blow out a deep breath; she’s alive.

Jillian

It was Wolff’s suggestion I get in the ambulance with the girl.

My head resisted, despite every instinct pushing me to stay by the girl’s side. I used the dogs as an excuse, but Wolff brushed my concern aside by assuring me he could drop them off at home if I’d give him my keys. He then hammered it home when he reminded me she has no one to stand by her, to comfort her when she wakes up, to advocate for her.

Even without knowing everything about me, he knew exactly which button to push.

So, I handed him my keys, asked him to let my dogs out for a pee and make sure they have fresh water, told him where to find their food, and then I hopped in the back of the ambulance.

For someone with a healthy dislike of hospitals, I seem to be spending a lot of time here this week. However, this time I’m determined not to end up in the waiting room.

I jog alongside the stretcher as the EMTs wheel her through the ER. They look at me strangely when I tell a nurse, who asks if I’m related, that I’m her aunt. To their credit, they say nothing, and I’m able to sneak in and stay off the radar while the medical team starts examining her.

I already told the EMTs what I know, and listen as they fill in the physician on her condition and the circumstances that caused it. When the doctor glances my way and asks the young EMT who was in the back of the ambulance who I am, I hold my breath.

“The girl’s aunt. She rode in the back of the ambulance,” he answers.

I shoot him a grateful smile and make a mental note to thank him properly when I have a chance.

“Ma’am? For now, I’m going to need to ask you to wait outside. There’s a small waiting room for family right across the hall. Someone will be in to get some information from you, and I’ll come see you when I know more.”

Shit . I have a feeling this false claim being related isn’t going to hold water for long once they discover I really have no information to give. I assume they’ll want to know things like medical history, allergies, insurance, and stuff like that. I know nothing.

As luck would have it, I bump into Sheriff Ewing when I slip out of the room.

“Great job finding her.”

I offer a smile at his compliment and put my hand on his arm, leading him across the hallway into the waiting room the doctor indicated. Thankfully, no one is in here.

“So you’re not confused later,” I tell him as I take a seat. “I lied and told staff I’m her aunt to be allowed to stay close.”

He nods, a serious expression on his face. “I see. Well…since the poor kid seems to have lost almost her entire family in that crash, she can probably use an extra relative.”

“I’m not sure how useful I’ll be. I was told someone will be in to get information, but I have no idea what to tell them.”

Ewing sits down beside me. “Don’t worry. I stopped at the nurses’ station coming in and explained the situation.”

That’s a relief, I’m not a fan of lying—I’m not particularly good at it—and would’ve hated to have had to come up with some plausible story.

“You’re saying she has some remaining family?” I come back to something he said earlier.

While Wolff and I were on the search, he filled me in on what he knew about Hayley’s background. Somehow, I thought her entire family was on that plane, but apparently not.

“Yeah, an uncle. Her father’s younger brother. We were finally able to connect with him through the family company. He was in Guatemala on a business trip and is making his way home.” He flips his hat back and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll see if I can get word to him; it’ll be a relief for him to hear his niece was found alive. The man was devastated.”

“I’m sure. Can you imagine what that girl went through these past days?”

“No.” He shakes his head and puts his hat on the chair beside him. “I’ve seen a few things in my day, but that crash site was pretty horrific.”

A silence falls over the room, and I rest my head back against the wall, briefly closing my eyes.

The sun was already down by the time we arrived at the hospital, and I hope Wolff got my dogs out for a pee. That’s something I don’t really have in place yet, a dog sitter. Someone like Kimmie, my next-door neighbor’s teenage daughter, who would look after the remaining dogs when I was on a search. She’d stay at my house if I had to go out of town.

I’m going to have to start looking for someone like that around here, but I haven’t even had a chance to knock on my neighbors’ doors to introduce myself. During the summer their care is a little easier; the pack would be happy outside in the dog kennel where they’d have a small fenced-off run. Of course, someone would have to stop by to ensure they have fresh water and get fed regularly. In the winter, however, they’re inside the house, and that would mean trusting someone with the key and alarm code so they can get in.

Normally trust takes time for me. Oddly enough, I didn’t think twice about handing Wolff my keys. I’m not sure what to make of that.

Speak of the devil, fifteen minutes later he walks into the waiting room.

“Any news?” he asks, his attention moving from me to Junior and back.

“Still waiting to hear,” the sheriff answers first, cocking his thumb at me. “I’m sure they’ll come here first, since Jillian here is the nearest family around.”

At Wolff’s confused look, I confess my minor deception and earn a grin.

“Everything okay with the dogs? You got here fast,” I observe.

“They’re fine. JD went with me; he’s taking them for a run out behind your house. I was going to hit up Best Buds and grab us a quick pizza, but decided to first come to see what was going on.”

He’s about to take a seat on my other side, when the doc who was looking after Hayley walks in.

“I see you’ve grown in numbers,” she comments, “You’re all here for the girl?”

“Hayley Vallard, yes,” the sheriff confirms, getting to his feet.

I get up as well.

“I’m Dr. Chahal. The girl’s looking better. Her stats have improved. We have an IV established. Fluids going in. Core temperature is coming up,” she reports quite businesslike. “Still unresponsive, which may be a way for her to cope after the incredible trauma she survived, but it could also be she’s sustained injuries we aren’t able to see on the outside. So, we will keep her sedated and run several tests and scans to make sure there is nothing we missed. She’ll be monitored closely at all times, but until we’ve had a chance to do what we need to do, I suggest you try to get some rest, Miss…”

She shoots me a pointed look.

“Call me Jillian,” I quickly fill in. “But she’s going to be all right?”

The woman smiles what I’m sure is meant as a reassuring smile, but comes across as a tired, perhaps mildly patronizing one.

“For now, I’m going to be reserved and say she’s not out of the woods yet, but what I’m seeing is encouraging. Get some rest, Jillian, and make sure to leave a number where you can be reached with the nurse.”

Then she turns her attention on Junior Ewing.

“And I’m sorry, Sheriff, but obviously anything you need to know from her is going to have to wait. This probably was a wasted trip for you.”

With that she makes her exit, but I have one more question for her.

“Dr. Chahal?” I call out as I dart into the hallway to catch her.

“Yes.”

She stops and turns around.

“I have a trained therapy dog I think might have a calming effect on Hayley when she wakes up. I’m more than happy to bring him in if that is something you are open to?”

She looks skeptical, and I prepare to get turned down, but her next question gives me hope.

“The dog is certified?”

“Yes. I can bring his papers,” I assure her, trying not to come across as too eager.

She studies me for a moment before giving me a curt nod.

“Sure. Call first, though.”

A few minutes later I’m walking out to the parking lot, flanked by Sheriff Ewing and Wolff.

“I take it you don’t have a vehicle here?” Junior observes. “I’ll be happy to give you a ride home. That is…” he adds, with a quick glance over my shoulder at Wolff.

His voice rumbles behind me.

“I’ve got her.”