Cold Fear (2 page)

ONE

An eagle
flew so near to Emily Baker
she heard the swishing of its wings from the cliffside where she had sought
sanctuary after her blowout with Doug. Maybe this trip was a mistake. Was
returning to Montana the only way to end her torment? She searched the peaks
for answers.

Her monster was out there.

Emily had to confront it. Had to tell Doug and Paige
everything. Everything. She was so sorry for the arguments. For all she had put
them through. And what she was going to put them through. She would never blame
them for not understanding. Emily was bracing herself, after so many painful
years, to reveal the terrible secret to her family.

I am responsible for the death of a child.

“Guess what I’m going to do.”

The monster.

That’s what Emily and her counselor had agreed to call
Emily’s issue, because they knew it was the key that got Emily talking, to the
point that she was able to set foot in Montana for the first time since her
childhood.

Your monster dwells back at the ranch, kid. Come on,
Em, we talked about this. You must go back for that cliché called closure.
You’ve let the monster call the shots in your life for too long. If you fail to
do this, the monster wins. Everything. Are you willing to let it win
everything?

No.

Emily had returned to battle her past.

To endure one more death.

Her monster had exacted such a toll--on her, on Doug, on
Paige. It was gaining momentum. Emily had to stop it. The arguing, erecting
walls, fracturing trusts, withdrawing from the people who needed her: it had to
end. As horrible as it was going to be, it had to be done. This was the right
place. The right time. Her counselor was right. A few more days was all Emily
needed.

Then the whole world would know.

The sun slipped closer to the western horizon. Mountain
shadows pulled over the valleys like a blanket. Hours had passed since her
argument with Doug. Emily hoped he had cooled off.

Returning along the twisting trail, Emily felt a pang of
worry.
Something’s wrong.
She stopped. Nothing looked awry. But
something felt wrong. Emily shrugged, continuing to the camp.

Her heart warmed when she saw a calmer version of her
husband reading near their blue tent. The ex-marine sergeant who taught English
Lit to high school students when not coaching the football team. Doug Baker was
a looker. An inch over six feet with a muscular frame beneath the faded Levis
and blue U.S. Marines T-shirt, which set off his tan, gray-flecked hair and
gray eyes.

“Where’s Paige?” she asked.

“She went to join you.” He was still cool to her.

“Very funny.”

Doug immediately analyzed the circumstances, concern
washing over him. Tossing his book, he rushed down the trail.

“Doug!” Emily’s heart raced. “You’re scaring me! Doug!”

“Stay at the camp, Em!” he yelled, then began calling
for Paige, his deep voice booming as he disappeared. Emily’s stomach tightened.
She tore back the flaps of the tents.

“Paige?”

She circled the camp, calling her, calling Kobee.

Doug returned. Breathless. Doubled over. Gasping. Emily
noticed his left hand was wrapped in cloth, as if he had hurt himself.

“Doug where is she? What happened? I left her with you!”

“I sent her to you. She went with Kobee, not more than
ten minutes after you left! I thought all this time she was with you!”

“No,” Emily fought her tears. “I never heard her! I
never saw her!”

“You never saw her?”

“No.”

“What about Kobee?”

“No.” Her eyes were drawn to Doug’s injury. “What
happened to your hand?”

“I hurt it chopping wood.”

“Hurt it how? Doug, what happened?”

“I was chopping wood. I was distracted, hurt my hand. I
sent her to be with you!”

Emily stared at him.

“Doug you were supposed to watch her! My God! It’s been
hours! Why weren’t you watching her?”

“Me?
Well, where the hell
were you? Huh? You go off for hours! What the hell are you doing out there all
alone?”

Emily began sobbing.

Doug shook off his rage. They had no time to waste.

“Emily!” He grabbed her shoulders. “Emily! Listen to
me!”

“Doug, she was so upset yesterday, remember--”

“Stop this, Emily!”

“And those people, yesterday, seeing us argue. Standing
there watching us. That family, they said they saw a bear--”

“Stop this and listen to me! That thread of trail you
were on is no more than a few hundred yards. It crests a ridge, right?”

“What I--I, OK--”

“You and I will each take a side of that ridge and
descend in a zigzag pattern, calling at one-minute intervals out to her and
each other, making sure we can hear each other! We’ve got some time before
dark. You got that?”

Emily did not move.

“Emily!”

She flinched. “Y-yes. I’ve got it!”

“Let’s go!”

They scoured the ridge; the sky had darkened faster than
Doug had ever seen night fall in his life. Why had he behaved so brutally to
Paige? Scaring her off when she needed him? What was wrong with him? Maybe she
fell asleep somewhere. Maybe she fell. Or worse.

“Paige! Kobee!” His voice boomed, followed by the echo
of Emily’s calling, deepening his anxiety.

Doug pushed on, worrying about his daughter, his wife,
grappling over their reason for coming to Montana. To deal with Emily’s--what?
Tortured past? Were they right to come? What the hell was happening to them? He
probed a small hillside cave with a branch.

Nothing.

Doug knew little of his wife’s childhood in Montana. She grew up just outside of Buckhorn Creek, a small mountain town. Her mother and
father died when she was young. That was about all he knew, really. In the time
he had known her, Emily would not talk about it.

Her only relative was her aunt Willa, who still called
her “Lee,” which was Emily’s childhood nickname. Willa knew Emily’s past but
was just as reluctant to discuss it. Several months ago at a San Francisco art
gallery’s showing of Emily’s photography, Doug had pulled Willa aside and
pressed her unsuccessfully.

“Doug, she has to tell you when she’s ready. It has to
be Lee’s decision.” Willa bit her lip. “I just pray that it is soon. Very
soon.”

Emily was seeing a psychologist, but was guarded on her
counseling until a few weeks ago, telling Doug the resolution for her was in Montana. She had to go back but was afraid to go alone. OK, he said, they would go to the
mountains together. The three of them. They would meet head-on with whatever it
was that was pulling her away from him, from Paige, from herself.

Then last night, after all these years, Emily seemed
ready to open up to him. Paige was asleep in her little tent. They sat by the
fire for some time, the flames painting her face as constellations wheeled by.
Emily began talking about her life here, then retreated into silence,
frustrating him.

It ignited another argument that erupted this morning.

And now this.

“Paige! Kobee!”

Doug hacked fiercely at some brush until suddenly he was
overcome with futility. He reached a clearing, looked down the giant slopes
through a treetop window and his knees nearly buckled. At that moment, the size
of the area was no longer breathtaking. It was horrifying.

God help us.

“Paige!” Doug’s voice carried for miles. Forever.
My
little girl.

He ran his hands over his face. Exhausted. Emily’s
calling began to stutter. Doug knew she was sobbing at the fact they were
searching in vain. Night had come without a trace of Paige or Kobee.

Maybe they found their way back. That shred of hope was
enough for Doug to get Emily back safely to their campsite.

The temperature had dropped. The dark sky was starless.
Doug built up the fire, flames reflecting the anguish of their glistening eyes.

“She’ll be cold,” Emily sniffed.

Doug nodded.

He was numb with fear, trying to remember the last
tender words he had said to Paige, the last time he hugged her. He refused to
accept that his last words to his daughter were spat at her in anger.

“We’ve got to get help, Em. At first light, I’ll double
time it back to the shuttle bus drop. We’ll alert the rangers.”

“But it took us two days to hike to this spot.”

“We have no choice. You stay here in case she returns.
Do not look anymore. Stay here!”

Emily sniffed and nodded. “And hungry. She’ll be hungry,
Doug.”

“She’s a smart girl. She’ll build a shelter or
something.”

“She’s from the city. She has never set foot in the
woods in her life. Not until I dragged everyone here! Why is this happening?
She was so heartbroken yesterday at our arguing. She said she would run off of
a mountain because of me. Doug it’s me, it’s…Damn it Doug. Why weren’t you
watching her? I don’t understand how you could let her walk off. Why?”

“Stop it! This does not help! We cannot sit here blaming
ourselves. This does not help Paige. Do you hear me? Don’t give up on her!”

Emily nodded, stifling her sobbing.

“Doug,
exactly how
did you hurt your hand?”

“I told you, chopping wood,” he said, almost ready to
confess. “I--I was distracted and sent Paige to be with you.”

Emily said nothing. Minutes passed.

“You were gone a long time, Emily. What were you doing
out there?”

Emily sniffed, whispering, “Dealing with my past.”

Thunder rolled in the distant darkness. An hour later,
the fire began hissing as the raindrops fell. Doug and Emily moved to their
tent.

The rain intensified. Doug hoped with every fiber that
Paige had built a shelter. He knew the rain would reduce chances of picking up
her trail.

Neither he nor Emily slept more than five minutes.

They stared at the flames, struggling to survive the
rain.

But the fire died.

“Guess what I’m going to do.”

Emily’s monster had returned.

TWO

Fear
seized Paige.

She stood absolutely still in the dusk, afraid to move,
to swallow, to blink. Her heartbeat was deafening.

She heard the noise again. Very near. Coming from the
dark stand of trees.

Huffing, then clicking.

She saw nothing. A branch snapped loudly under the
weight of something colossal.

Gooseflesh rose on her arms.

Something is out there in the darkness. Something
large is watching me.

Trembling, Paige moved slowly away. Every instinct
screaming at her.

Run!

More branches breaking.

It’s moving closer!

Run! Run! Run!

Groaning, panting, running, scrambling. Her adrenaline
surged propelling her up a cliffside, then another, down a scree. Not feeling
the rocks scraping and tearing at her hands and arms, she crossed a stream,
slipping, driving hard, not stopping, scaling another small cliffside, racing.
Her knees banged and slipped until she collapsed beneath an overhang with a
concave rock roof, not much larger than the rear window dash of a midsize car.

Her gasping was deafening. Ears ringing.

Oh, please! Stop this! Please!

Several minutes later her breathing decreased.

Safe. Please let me be safe.

From her shelter, she watched night fall over the
mountains, listening to the loudest thunder she had ever heard blasting over
the Rockies from one corner of the world to another. Lightning flashing in the
angry sky, then a downpour.

In the dark, she extracted a T-shirt and sweatshirt from
her pack, putting them both on. It helped. One may have been inside out. She
did not care. She felt around for food; she knew she had stuff in there. Her
fingers fishing, finding an apple, then a nearly-full bottle of water.

Be smart. Take a small sip.

She lay in the darkness, shivering in rain-cooled air,
flinching with every thunderclap.

Does it hurt to die?

Paige began to cry.

She cried until she fell asleep, only to be awakened
several times out of fear that the huffing sound had returned.