Jesus, how did these people survive months and months of this? He guessed he’d know soon enough, but he already missed the endless blue California sky.
The sheriff had told him he had a local girl in mind who knew the terrain well. Good, because he’d need her. His knowledge about wilderness could fill a shot glass. And him trekking around alone in the snow sounded extremely unpleasant and mostly pointless.
After he’d slid inside his SUV, turned the ignition, and started blasting the heat, he checked the name he’d jotted in his notebook. Harper Ward. I thought so. It was the same girl Mrs. Wilcox had mentioned. That poor girl, Harper Ward, losing both her parents that way. The sheriff had told him her father had been the previous sheriff in Helena Springs, and a guilty look had flashed in the man’s eyes that Mark didn’t have enough information to understand. He wondered what it meant and figured he could find out easily enough if he wanted to—there was always someone—or twenty someones—willing to talk about their neighbors in a small town. But he’d rather keep his focus on what was important to his case and solve this crime—crimes—before anyone else in this small town got hurt.
Or killed.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jak’s teeth were chattering so hard he thought they might crack. He pulled his legs closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, trying to curl into every tiny bit of heat his body was making.
He knew he had to move. He had to get dry. He had to . . . Tears filled his eyes, then moved down his cheeks, freezing over his icy skin. He wiped at them, making himself sit up. Live! he’d told the dark-haired boy as he’d flung him up on that small ledge. He’d demanded it, because only one of them could have that ledge—that chance—and if the boy he gave it to died anyway, then it was wasted.
I should have taken it for myself.
But even though the thought flashed in his mind, it didn’t feel true. He’d somehow survived the fall by grabbing another piece of branch sticking from the side of the slope. There hadn’t been a ledge or anything for him to climb onto and he’d quickly lost his hold. But that branch had been closer to the ground and when he’d landed in a deep pile of snow, it hadn’t been with as much speed, though it had still knocked the wind from his lungs anyway, and he’d had to fight his way out of the icy hole his fall had made.
One of the other boys had been lying nearby, both legs twisted in different directions, and Jak had rushed to him, shaking and panting as he turned the boy over. But he could see right away that he was dead. His face was bloody and beaten, his gaze forever staring at the stars above. Jak had cried out, jumped back, and rushed as fast as he could to get away. Away, away.
Because he didn’t know how long he had before someone came after him.
He’d made it to a group of trees close by, out of breath, soaking wet, his shoulder hurting bad, and he was so scared that whoever the man had been at the top of that cliff, was on his way down to find him.
Did he know that Jak had lived? That the dark-haired boy might have too? And what happened to the blond one? Jak hadn’t seen any trace of him at the bottom of that cliff, but he must be dead too. Buried under snow, his limbs twisted grossly like the other dead boy’s.
Help me, someone. Anyone. Please, he begged in the quiet of his mind. But no one was listening, except the silent moon hanging in the nighttime sky.
Jak tripped through the forest, his shivering getting more, his eyes starting to blur around the edges. The strength he’d felt had drained out from him, making his muscles feel loose and filled with water. He ran anyway, stumbling, on and on until his legs had no feeling. Heat filled his bones, moving up, shooting flames through his chest. He was suddenly burning hot. Too hot. And thirsty. He bent down and scooped up some snow, bringing it to his mouth and eating it as he moved deeper into the darkness.
So hot. So hot. The world started to tilt. He took off his jacket, dropping it in the snow and moving forward. He tripped over something under the