Sunrise Canyon (New Americana 1)

“Where now?” Jake asked.

Looking past his shoulder, she pointed to the map. “Most kids like to head up here, to Cat Canyon and the desert loop trail. Let’s go that way.”

Jake shook his head, surprised that he was almost enjoying this. “It feels like you’re plotting a spy mission. What do we do when we find them? Hide behind the rocks?”

“If we see them, and they’re okay, we keep our distance. If they see us, we wave and keep walking.” She strode out, Jake keeping pace with her. Other visitors strolled the paths, but on a weekday, with most children in school, the park wasn’t crowded.

A few minutes later, they spotted the three girls, who’d stopped to watch the otters in the stream-life exhibit.

“Well, they look okay,” Jake said.

“Yes. But take a closer look. Heather’s the dominant one. She’s got Lanie in hand, and they’re both ignoring Faith. See how she’s standing apart, not even involved with them and acting like she doesn’t care? That’s an issue right there.”

“I see what you mean.” The tall girl, pretty enough to be a model, was being shunned by the other two. Growing up, Jake had seen girls behave that way. Could be some jealousy involved, but that was Kira’s business, not his.

Kira moved on up the trail, Jake keeping pace with her. He’d grown up in Phoenix, but never spent much time in the higher desert country around Tucson. He’d forgotten how beautiful it could be in the spring, with cactuses and wildflowers bursting into bloom on the hillsides, drawing swarms of birds and nectar-seeking insects.

They’d reached the beginning of the loop trail when Kira’s cell phone rang. Jake couldn’t make out words, but the boyish voice on the other end of the call sounded frantic.

“Slow down, Calvin,” Kira said. “Tell me what happened.” She listened a moment. “We’ll be right there!” she said.

Jake caught her as she raced up the trail. “What is it?”

“It’s Patrick. He went off the trail, climbed up some rocks and took a fall. He’s conscious, but he’s got a bleeding cut on his head and who knows what else. Poor Calvin sounded frantic.”

She surged ahead, with Jake plunging after her. A memory flashed in his head: charging up a hill under AK-47 fire from the Taliban dug in on the ridge; seeing the young corporal on his right go down, seeing his face . . .

Jake wrenched himself free of the memory. This was no time to go off the deep end, when a child was injured and Kira needed his help. Pull yourself together, damn it!

Now, rounding a bend in the trail, they could see the two boys. One was sprawled faceup on the gravel. The other, a small boy with glasses, had stripped off his T-shirt and wadded it against his companion’s head.

“Good work, Calvin.” Kira dropped to her knees beside the injured boy, a skinny redhead. “How are you doing, Patrick?”

His face was pale, his freckles standing out as if they’d been painted on his skin. His eyes gazed up at her. “I’ll be okay,” he said. “Please don’t call my mom and dad.”

“I’ll need to call them,” Kira said. “That’s a rule I have to obey. But if you’d obeyed your rules, this wouldn’t have happened. Why did you go off the trail?”

“There was a lizard on the rocks. I wanted to catch it.”

“Well, there you go. I hope you’ve learned your lesson. Now let’s have a look.”

Kneeling next to Calvin, Jake watched Kira ease the wadded, blood-soaked shirt away. The gash at the boy’s hairline, most likely caused by a sharp rock, didn’t look too bad, but it was bleeding like a fountain. Jake knew that scalp wounds, even the nonserious kind, tended to bleed a lot. Once the flow was stanched and the boy was checked out by a doctor, he’d probably be fine. But the blood reminded Jake of the men he’d seen who’d never go home whole, and the innocent women and children who should never have been in the way. So much blood . . .

Remembered horror clenched his gut. He battled the urge to clamber to his feet and get away from here. Kira needed him. He had to get himself under control.

“There’s a first-aid station in the visitor center,” she said. “I don’t think it would be wise for Patrick to walk that far. If you’ll carry him, Jake, I’ll stay next to you and keep the pressure on his wound. There’s an emergency clinic not far from here. Once he’s bandaged and cleaned up, you can drive him to get checked out. I’ll stay and keep an eye on the other students till you’re back.” She gave Calvin a smile. “You come with us, too, Calvin. Once we’ve t

aken care of Patrick, I’ll owe you a new shirt. You can choose any shirt you want from the gift shop.”

Patrick’s arms and legs dangled as Jake carried him the half mile over winding trails to the visitor center—just as he’d carried wounded men and maimed children, bleeding, dying in his arms as bullets and mortars rained around him. This wasn’t the same—a warm, safe spring day and a foolhardy boy who would soon recover. But as he walked the trail, with Kira beside him, he could almost smell the burning fuel and feel the grit of exploding earth blasting his face. Remembered cries and groans echoed in his head, drowning out even the recollected roar of gunfire.

Panic was setting in, squeezing him like a vise. If he could hold on till they got some help and he could put the boy down, maybe he’d be all right. Ahead, he could see the modern lines of the adobe-colored visitor complex. To his mind’s eye, it was like the high double wall of sand-filled HESCO bags that had given the outpost camps a measure of protection. If he could make it to that wall with his precious burden . . .

“My goodness, somebody’s had an accident.” The voice of a park docent broke into his thoughts. “Here, let’s get him where we can have a look.”

Barely holding himself together, Jake lowered the injured boy’s feet to the pavement and allowed Kira and the docent to help him inside the building, with the shirtless Calvin trailing behind.

Jake spotted a restroom sign and headed for it. Inside, the place was empty. For now, at least, he was alone. Apart from the faint trickle of water, the only sound he could hear was his heart pounding against his ribs.