Читать книгу Zero Visibility - Sharon Dunn - Страница 10

ONE

Merci Carson sucked in a fear-filled breath as the car she was a passenger in swerved on the icy country road. The jumpy view through the windshield fed her panic. Her stomach clenched. She braced her hand on the dashboard.

The driver, Lorelei Frank, gripped the wheel and pumped the brakes. The car fishtailed. Lorelei overcorrected. Both girls screamed at the same time as the car veered off the road and wedged in the snow. Lorelei killed the engine, let out a heavy breath and pressed her head against the back of the seat. “That was really scary.”

Merci sat stunned. She pried her fingers off the dashboard and waited for her heart rate to return to normal. “I wonder how badly we’re stuck.” She took in a deep breath and rolled down the window. Frozen air hit her face as she leaned out for a view of the front wheel. This high up in the mountains, there was snow almost year round. Still, it felt unusually cold for March. “It doesn’t look that bad. Maybe we can back out.”

Lorelei clicked the key in the ignition, but the engine didn’t turn over. Her hand fluttered to her mouth. “Oh, no.”

“Try one more time. Wasn’t the engine still running when we got stuck?”

Lorelei nodded and reached for the key. She clicked it back and forth several times. Each time Merci felt as if a vise was being tightened around her heart. The bleak winter landscape only made her more anxious. If they couldn’t get the car started, who would come to help them? The last car they had seen was right before they had turned off the highway to take Lorelei’s shortcut.

“This is my fault.” The deep crevice between Lorelei’s eyebrows gave away the level of guilt she must be wrestling with. “I’ve only taken this road in the summer. It’s almost spring, I didn’t think the snow would be such a factor.”

“It’s okay.” Merci hoped she had been able to hide the encroaching fear from her voice. Lorelei had been kind enough to offer her a ride to her aunt’s house in Oregon for spring break after her own car had broken down finals week, two days before she needed to leave. After a stressful quarter, Merci had been desperate to see her Aunt Celeste. She patted Lorelei’s hand. Playing the blame game wouldn’t get the car on the road again. “You were only trying to get us there faster.”

“Let’s try one more time.” Lorelei’s hands were shaking as she reached to turn the key in the ignition.

Merci held her breath.

Please, God, let the car start.

Nothing. No engine noise. The car was dead.

Lorelei pulled the key out of the ignition and sat back in her seat, staring at the ceiling while she bit her lower lip. “We must have damaged something when we went off the road.”

Merci pressed her palms together. They were stranded,

but they were not without hope…not yet. They still had options.

Merci took her cell phone out of her pocket. She stared at the purple sequined cover. Who could they call? They were seven hours away from the college and six away from her aunt’s house in Oregon.

Lorelei combed her fingers through her short blond hair. “I’m not sure where I put my phone.”

If she called her aunt, she could look online for them and find out if there was a tow truck in this area that could come to get them. “I’ve got some charge left on mine.” She flipped it open. The “no service” message flashed in front of her.

Lorelei sat up and looked at her.

Merci tried to ignore that sinking feeling in her gut. She closed the phone and responded in a monotone. “The mountains must be blocking the signal.” Nobody was going to come for them.

Both women sat staring out their windows, not saying anything for a long moment.

Merci said a quick prayer and mustered up some optimism. She wasn’t giving up that easily. “Let’s see if we can dig the car out of the snow and then figure out why it won’t start.” She didn’t know much about cars, other than how to put gas and oil in, but they were running out of options.

Lorelei’s expression, that mixture of fear and despair that caused her forehead to wrinkle, didn’t change, but she shrugged and said, “Okay. What else can we do, right?”

“Exactly.” Merci pushed open her door. Strong wind assaulted her before she could get her hands into the sleeves of the lavender dress coat she grabbed off the seat. She let out a breath. The chill cut right through her even after she put the coat on. Rolling the window down had only given her a taste of how cold it was. They’d been insulated in the heated car.

The dark clouds in the sky indicated that a storm was on the way. Bad weather was not what they needed right now. They would have to work fast.

Moving both their suitcases out of the way, she checked the trunk for a shovel. Empty. Okay, so Lorelei didn’t believe in bringing tools with her. Maybe it had been her responsibility to make sure they were better equipped for emergencies. Lorelei was at least four years younger than her. Because she had paid her own way through college by working a year and going to school a year, Merci was older than most college seniors. Her own car had everything she needed for any kind of emergency, but it wasn’t running. She knew about being prepared in the harsh Northwest winters.

She closed the trunk and walked around to the front of the car where Lorelei kicked snow away from the driver’s-side tire. Merci pulled her gloves from her pocket. The snow didn’t look that deep, and only

the front tires were stuck. The back tires were still on the road.

Lorelei leaned over to examine the car tire. “Sorry, I should have brought a shovel.”

“You must have a bucket or some kind of container in the car. If so, then we’ll need something to create traction like sand or kitty litter.” As cold as it was, they weren’t going to last very long before they had to return to the car to warm up. Without the ability to run the heat, even that survival tactic wasn’t going to do them much good for long.

“I don’t think I have either of those, but I can look for something to shovel with.” Lorelei returned to the car’s backseat to search.

Merci crossed her arms over her chest. She stared at the winding path the car had taken though blowing snow had already drifted over some of their tracks. It was too far to walk back to the main road that way. Besides, didn’t all survival shows say to stay with your vehicle? Anxiety knotted her stomach all over again. Had it come to this already, thinking about how they would stay alive? Just moments before, they had been singing along to one of Lorelei’s CDs.

The graying sky indicated that more snow was on the way. This time of year, it got dark early. They had maybe a two-hour window before darkness and colder temperatures meant they would be huddled together and freezing in the car. They had to get out of here.

She leaned down and pushed away the snow with her gloved hand. Working at a frantic pace, it took only moments before she was out of breath. Fighting the wind drained her strength, and her face felt like it had been dipped in a block of ice.

Oh, God, we need help or a better idea about getting this car moving.

The car door slammed, and Lorelei let out a yelp that sounded almost joyful.

Merci pushed herself to her feet. Up the road in the direction they had come, headlights shone. Merci breathed a sigh of relief. Sometimes God took forever to answer prayer, and sometimes He answered on the spot.

The car pulled ahead of them and came to a stop.

A man in a leather jacket and thick sweater got out of the driver’s side. “What seems to be the problem here, ladies?” The man’s dark black hair was cut short and slicked back. The huskiness in his voice gave away a smoking habit.

Lorelei rocked from heel to toe. “Boy, are we glad to see you. We got ourselves stuck and now the car won’t start.”

A second shorter, broader man dressed in a puffy orange down coat got out of the passenger side. He looked to be in his early twenties and had long wavy hair. The stringiness of his hair indicated that a shower was a couple of days behind him. Duct tape covered two holes on his oil-stained coat.

The taller man walked toward them, addressing Lorelei. “Why don’t you ladies warm up in our car? I’ve left it idling. We’ll see what we can do.”

“Oh, thank you,” Lorelei gushed.

Treading through the snow, Merci followed Lorelei. It seemed a little odd that the guy had pulled out in front of them instead of stopping behind, and the men had a greasy unwashed quality that was off-putting. But what did she care? She needed to get beyond her own prejudices. God had sent help; that was what mattered. Besides, these men were their only hope of getting back on the road. She slipped into the backseat while Lorelei occupied the front passenger seat. The car was toasty warm.

Lorelei took her gloves off and laced her fingers together. “This was a stroke of luck.”

To Merci it was an answer to prayer, but she didn’t know Lorelei well enough to know if she would understand. They had only had a few classes together and lived in the same dorm.

From the backseat, Merci turned around to see what was going on. One of the men had popped the hood, which blocked most of her view. She couldn’t see where the tall man in the leather jacket was. From this angle, it was hard to tell, but it looked as if the trunk was open, too. He’d figure out soon enough that there wasn’t a shovel in there. Guilt washed through her. It wasn’t right for her to just sit here. She needed to get out and help.

Lorelei had put her earbuds in and closed her eyes. No need to disturb her.

Merci pushed open the door and stepped outside. As she walked to the back of the car, she heard the car door open. Lorelei must be following her.

Merci saw that the man in the orange coat had unzipped her suitcase and was rifling through it. Lorelei let out a loud gasp behind her.

“Stop stealing our stuff,” Merci screamed at the men.

Did they intend to rob them and leave them here to die? What kind of people would do something like that?

The man reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. “Just back off.”

Merci froze in her tracks, focusing on the barrel of the gun. Intense fear made it impossible for her to scream.

The other man pushed open the door of the backseat, stepped out and absorbed the situation. “No way man, it wasn’t supposed to go down like this,” said the tall man in the leather jacket.

“Yes, put the gun away.” Merci’s voice trembled uncontrollably. She felt as if someone was shaking her spine from the inside.

“We’ll give you whatever you want,” said Lorelei. “Just don’t hurt us.”

The short man placed his finger inside the trigger guard.

In the pensive silence, snow fell softly on Merci’s head in sharp contrast to the tornado of fear raging inside her. Would her next breath be her last?

* * *

With his snowmobile idling and partially hidden from view by trees, Nathan McCormick flipped up the visor on his helmet and watched the two parked cars. A man in a leather jacket had lifted the hood and then got into the car. A man in an orange coat had popped the trunk and was looking for something. It was unusual to see anyone on this road next to the mountain acreage he and his brother Daniel had inherited. There was no reason for traffic anymore. His dad had closed down the small ski hill three seasons ago to take care of his ailing mother, and the kids’ camp only ran in the summer. Then a year ago, his mother had died and his father only six months after that. He’d come back to the family cabin one last time to say goodbye and pack up before putting the place on the market.

He wondered why the cars had stopped. It looked like engine trouble. One of the cars was positioned as if it might be stuck. Maybe he should go down and see if they needed an extra hand. He watched a moment longer. A woman in a purple coat got out of the car in front followed by another woman.

He angled the snowmobile downhill and revved the engine preparing to go down to help. The man standing by the trunk pulled out a gun and pointed it at the woman in the purple coat. Nathan’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. He’d stumbled onto a robbery.

Without hesitation, Nathan flipped down the visor on his helmet and zoomed down the mountain. Those women weren’t going to be harmed, not on his watch. Adrenaline shot through him like quicksilver as he increased his speed.

As he drew closer, Nathan saw the second man in a leather jacket get out of the car and a moment later pull a gun, as well. The two women huddled together, stepping back away from the men. The thieves looked up and saw him coming. One fired a shot. He swerved the snowmobile away from the line of fire. The women collapsed in the snow in an effort to protect themselves from flying bullets.

Nathan headed toward the man in the orange coat as though he was going to plow him over. At the last second, he stood up and angled the snowmobile sideways, spraying snow on the man and hitting him with the runners. The man in the orange coat reeled backward. The gun flew out of his hand and fell into the snow. Nathan was between the two women and the stunned would-be robber, who was digging through the snow for his gun. The other man had retreated behind the second car. He was probably waiting to see if Nathan was armed.

Nathan flipped up his visor and yelled to the women, “Get on, get on right now.”

The first woman, the one wearing mostly purple, scrambled to her feet. She grabbed the wrist of the blonde woman, who glanced side to side but didn’t move. The woman in purple pulled her friend toward the snowmobile. She got on the snowmobile, and her friend got on behind her.

The second gunman came out from behind the car just as they sped up the hill. Nathan could hear the gunfire behind him. Leaning down, he steered toward the protection of some trees, while driving the snowmobile around the edge of the forest. The snow fell in big wet clumps, and the wind picked up.

The first woman had wrapped her arms around him and was holding on for dear life. He only hoped the other woman was secure on the seat, as well. The gunmen couldn’t go very fast pursuing them on foot. The route he took on the snowmobile to the family cabin was over the mountain, not on the road, so they wouldn’t be able to follow along in the car. Chances were the men would take whatever was of value in the women’s car and head straight out to the highway.

They traveled in ever increasing cold, wind and snow for about twenty minutes. He felt a gentle pounding on his shoulder and brought the snowmobile to a stop, but let it idle.

He flipped up his visor. “Yes.”

“Where are you taking us?” Fear saturated the woman’s voice.

She was probably wondering if she had just gotten out of one dangerous situation only to land in another.

“Sorry, I was kind of focused on getting you away from the gunfire. We’ll go to my cabin. It’ll be safe there. We’ll call the police. I have a truck. I can take you into town to the police station to file a report. Maybe they can catch these guys before they get too far.”

Her response came after a long pause. “Okay.”

She didn’t sound totally convinced, but what choice did she have? Going back to the cars was unwise, and they couldn’t stay on the side of the mountain with the wind and snow blowing at them.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, hoping to lessen her anxiety.

By the time they reached the cabin a few minutes later, the storm had become full blown. Tiny sword-like snowflakes came at him sideways. Air seemed to freeze in his lungs.

He brought the snowmobile to a stop, took off his helmet and leaned very close to the woman in purple to shout into her ear. “You and your friend go on inside. The door is unlocked. I’ve got to put the snowmobile away.” He pointed toward the cabin twenty feet away and almost not visible through the blowing snow. “Get warmed up.”

After watching them safely enter, he put the snowmobile in the three-sided shed then stumbled toward the house, reaching out for the rough pine stairs.

He pushed open the door. The two women huddled by the dying fire, bent over and shivering. Both were wearing dressy winter coats, fine for a church service, but nothing that would keep them warm in this kind of weather. They needed to thaw out from the ride on the snowmobile before they headed down the mountain to the police station.

Nathan stoked the fire and threw on another log. From the guest room, he retrieved blankets for them. He placed the blanket over the shoulders of the woman who wore purple.

She pulled her long strawberry-blond hair free of the blanket and whispered, “Thank you.”

The other woman stared at the floor as though she weren’t seeing it. He had worked ten years as a paramedic straight out of high school. His job had taught him a few things about people’s responses to violent crime or any kind of trauma. The blonde would come out of the shock in time. He just needed to keep talking to them, pulling them away from the memory of the violence and back into this safe part of the world.

“How about I get you guys some hot tea? I’m Nathan, by the way.”

“Tea sounds nice.” The strawberry blonde lifted her head and looked at him. “I’m Merci and this is Lorelei. We’re students at Montana State in Bozeman.” He liked the trust he saw in Merci’s eyes. At least she had come around.

“Well, Merci, it’s going to be okay. Soon as you are warmed up, we’ll call the police, go into town and get this taken care of,” he said.

Nathan went into the kitchen and prepared two cups of tea. They really needed to get moving, but neither of the women was in the state of mind emotionally or physically for a ride down the mountain. It wouldn’t hurt to give them a few minutes to recover.

The blonde didn’t take the cup when he offered it, so he placed it on the table beside her before returning to the kitchen to clean up. A moment later, when he peeked out, he watched Merci gently place the steaming mug in her friend’s hand and encourage her to sip.

He stared at the storm through the window as he made his way back through the living room. With the amount of snow falling and the intense wind, visibility had been reduced.

“I suppose we should make that call to the police,” Nathan suggested. “The sooner we get this done, the faster the police will be looking for the guys that robbed you.”

Merci set her empty cup down. The color had come back into her face, and her eyes looked brighter. She was kind of pretty. Lorelei had at least raised her head and taken a few sips of tea. The almost invisible freckles on Merci’s cheekbones and her white eyelashes gave her a soft, translucent quality, like a water color painting.

Lorelei shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t want to talk about what happened. I don’t want to go to the police.”

“She needs a few more minutes.” Merci rose to her feet and walked over to Nathan. The fear had returned to her eyes. “Could you make the call? You saw what the men looked like and what they were driving. I don’t think either of us is ready to talk about this just yet.”

“Sure, I can do that.” His heart filled with compassion. Because he was an EMT, he was used to handling traumatic situations. But this might have been the first time these women had even seen a gun. He tempered his voice, hoping not to stir up the fear again. “When we get to the station, they will want more details. Can you tell me what you were doing down there? Did you know those guys?”

Merci explained about the shortcut and getting stuck and how the men had shown up.

Nathan kept his thought to himself, but it sounded as if the women had been targeted. The only thing more vulnerable than two college-age women traveling together was one traveling alone. The men had probably been following them and waiting for an opportune time to rob them.

He kicked himself for not having gotten there five minutes earlier. Then this whole thing could have been prevented. He would have helped them with their car and gotten them on their way.

Nathan picked up the phone and dialed into the sheriff’s office. He recognized Deputy Miller’s voice.

“Hey, Travis, I’m up at the cabin and I’ve got two young women here who were robbed up on Jefferson Creek Road.” He briefly described the men and the car they were driving. “They should be able to give more details by the time I bring them in. They’re still a little shell-shocked.”

“I haven’t noticed a car in town matching that description. Doesn’t sound like they’re from around here.” Travis Miller’s slow drawl came across the line. “So you’re up there playing hostess with the mostest to college co-eds. Tough duty, huh?”

Nathan rolled his eyes at the friendly jab. Clampett, Idaho, was not a big town. Driving an ambulance in a town of twenty thousand meant that he was cozy enough with all of the first responders to joke around. “That’s right, I’m the Martha Stewart of the mountain. I’ll bring them in shortly.”

“Better hurry, that snow is coming down fast. Getting the road up to your place plowed isn’t county priority since there is no traffic up there anymore.” Travis said goodbye and hung up.

Nathan returned to the living room. Merci had risen from her chair and was looking at family photographs on the mantel. She picked up one of the framed pictures. “Is this your mom and dad?”

A sharp pain sliced through him. He hadn’t been up to this cabin since his dad’s funeral. He had a place in town. When his mom and dad were alive, the cabin had been used for family gatherings and vacations. He had come up here to clear away all those photos, to pack them in a box where they wouldn’t evoke sorrow every time he looked at them. “Yes, they passed away a little bit ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Her voice filled with compassion as she placed the photo back on the mantel with care. “You look really happy in these pictures.”

“I suppose we were.” He laid the photo facedown, not wanting to think about what his life used to be. “I don’t live up here, and all this stuff is just gathering dust. It needs to be packed up so the place can be sold.”

“I think pictures are a beautiful treasure.” She picked up a second photo. “Is this you with a friend?”

Nathan felt himself retreating emotionally as he took the frame from her hand. The image was of him and his older brother, Daniel, when they were maybe twelve and fourteen, practicing archery at the camp. Their hair shimmered in the summer sun, and both were smiling. His relationship with Daniel had been strained for the past ten years and had only gotten worse when their mother and father died.

He really didn’t want to talk about his brother…not to a stranger. Not to anyone. “He’s my brother.” Merci had probably thought she could make up for having reminded him of his parents’ death by talking about his “friend.” Instead, she had opened an even deeper wound. “We need to get going. If we wait too long, even my four-wheel drive isn’t going to get us off this mountain.”