Have to find them!
Finally his grasping fingers found fabric, and he dragged the pack over desperately. Breathing too harshly with the pepper in his lungs, he managed to unscrew his water bottle, shaking as he tossed aside his hat and rinsed his eyes, water pouring over his face as he struggled to keep them open.
Every blink torture, he dug out his radio and jammed his thumb on the speak button. “Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is Park Ranger Ben Hettler. Wanted criminal Harlan Brown has abducted a child. Maggie Kellerman, eight years old.” He rattled off Maggie’s description and what she was wearing, then gave their coordinates, cracking his burning eyes open enough to find the antihistamines in his pack.
Dee’s voice crackled over the radio. “Copy that, Hettler. We’re calling the local cops and the FBI, but it’ll take some time getting out there. You and the father sit tight.”
Ben pushed three pills through the blister pack and choked them down before rasping, “Can’t. Jason’s gone after her. Have to find them. Jason Kellerman: twenty-five, six foot, shaggy blond hair, slim build. Blue raincoat.”
“Ben, this is way beyond your pay grade. Park your butt.”
“I can’t leave them alone.” An iron band squeezed his chest, and it wasn’t just the pepper spray. He had to find Jason and Maggie. Had to protect them. They wouldn’t have even been out this far if not for him.
He jumped as a gunshot echoed in the distance, hollow through the mist and rain. Another followed, and he was on his feet. “I’ll report back soon. Over and out.” Switching off the radio so it wouldn’t receive transmissions and make noise, he strapped on the pack and stormed back to the trail, ignoring the burning in his eyes and on his skin.
Jason. Maggie. Oh God, please.
Icy terror rattled his spine. What if they were shot? What if that was Harlan killing them both? He shoved branches out of his way. Or they could be hurt, helpless on the ground, bleeding into the earth. Dying.
Faster!
He flew along the narrow path, panting roughly, boots pounding the sodden dirt. He’d left his hat in the scrub, and the wind whistled in his ears.
He ran and ran—then, rounding a bend, he skidded to a halt, struggling to make sense of what he was seeing.
Swallowing hard, a chubby, older man swiped at his round glasses, blocking the trail. He had a rifle jammed into his shoulder, pointing it at Jason, who’d stopped about ten feet away from Ben.
Jason practically vibrated as he shouted, “Listen to me! He’s getting away! He has my baby! Move! Let me go!”
The man’s nervous gaze flicked to Ben. “What the hell is going on?”
“Yes.” Ben had to cough, his lungs rattling. “There’s a man with a gun. A criminal. He has a little girl.”
Jason jerked his head over his shoulder at Ben, his eyes red from the pepper spray. “Tell him! Tell him he has Maggie!”
Breathing hard, the hiker looked back and forth between them rapidly. “I saw her. Son of a bitch shot at me before I even knew what was happening. I shot back, and then this guy showed up. How do I know he’s not packing too?”
Ben took charge and spoke as calmly as he could, every breath burning. “He’s not. Listen, we need your help. This man’s daughter was just abducted. The police are on the way. Can you meet them at the western trailhead? Can you do that for me?” The last thing they needed now was a shocked and scared gun owner with a jumpy trigger finger.
“He’s getting away, you asshole!” Jason screamed. “Fine. Shoot me.” He tore off into the bush in a wide circle around the hiker blocking the path before hitting the trail again and disappearing around a bend.
Fuck!
The hiker didn’t shoot, thank God. He spun, shaking and sputtering before wheeling back to Ben. Ben barked, “Get that out of my face!” and the man instantly complied, pointing the barrel at the ground.
“I’m sorry. Oh my God, what’s happening?”
“I need your weapon,” Ben commanded, not giving the skittish man a chance to argue as he snatched it from his hands. “Get to the trailhead and meet the police.”
“I… What? Is this some joke? What the hell is going on? Your face is all weird.”
“Bear spray.” He gripped the rifle. “Extra ammo?” He hated that people insisted on carrying guns in the park just because they could, or because they were poaching, or because they thought they could be a hero and stop a bear when they’d only ever fired on a range. But right now, he was grateful as hell to have the heft of the rifle in his hands.
The man handed over a box, and Ben stowed it in his pack. “Thank you. Go meet the police.”
Running down the winding trail again, he gripped the rifle, ready to fire. His father had taught him, and he’d hunted for years. He was ready. He’d get them back. He had to get them back. His pulse raced, the drum of his heart thundering in his ears as fresh panic ripped through him.