One Step Too Far (Frankie Elkin #2)(53)

“We need to fashion a travois to get Neil back to camp.” Nemeth steps into the middle of the trail, already pulling a blue emergency blanket from his pack. “You two,” he snaps at Miggy and Scott. They jump to attention. “I need two sturdy branches of roughly the same diameter and approximately three feet longer than your friend here. Move it.”

They hustle away, clearly motivated by Nemeth’s urgency.

“You.” He pins me with his gaze. I’m tempted to twist around to see if there’s anyone standing behind me, but I already know better.

“Time to learn how to use that knife.”

Dear God.

He tosses me a coil of thin nylon rope. “Cut this into segments eight feet long. Next, I need you to make holes along the edge of the tarp Martin’s going to hand you. A simple X will suffice, big enough for the rope to pass through.”

Nemeth turns to Luciana, delivering additional orders. Martin throws me a folded-up tarp, and I have no choice but to unclip the monster blade from my waist and eye it warily. The textured handle feels comfortable enough. And I appreciate the broad guard protecting my hand from slipping down the blade. But the thing is still a beast, razor-sharp on one side, wickedly serrated on the other.

My hands are shaking. I have to take several deep breaths. Then I head out of the tree line, back to the now glistening gray rocks. I unfold the tarp on a large boulder, uncoil the rope, and get to work. It takes me a few moments of trial and error to find my courage and put some muscle behind the blade. In the end, the serrated edge seems to work best for slicing through the nylon. Just to be fair, I use the straight edge on the tarp.

I like the knife more and more. Cuts easily, feels solid and reassuring in my hand. I heft it a few more times just because. Then I have to wonder once more: Did Josh pack such a hard-core tactical knife because he was worried about self-defense? Or because he had his own score to settle in these mountains?

Miggy lost a potential job because of Tim. Scott and Neil lost their chance at the woman they liked. And Josh? What did he lose? And how bad was it, given it sounds like he’s been drowning in a bottle ever since?

I carefully resheathe the double-edged blade, then return to Nemeth with my homework.

Martin grabs the tarp. Nemeth takes the rope. In a matter of seconds, they’ve fashioned a sling of sorts between the two branches Miggy and Scott have fetched. While they fine-tune their invention, I wander over to Luciana, doing my best to appear casual.

“What happened at Martin’s cave? You guys find something?” I keep my voice low because I already sense she’s not eager to share with the group.

“Maybe.” Her voice is terse and equally quiet.

“Daisy pick up scent?”

“Yes. We started to follow, but it didn’t make any sense. We kept running into dead ends, a giant rock here, a boulder there. Natural barriers should pool the scent. Instead, Daisy kept losing the trail.” Luciana shakes her head. “I don’t know. She started spooking. Then I started to get twitchy, too.”

“How so?”

Luciana glances around to ensure no one’s close enough to hear. “I felt like I was being watched. Like someone was studying us.”

“What about Nemeth?”

“You know how he is—never said a word. But he seemed unusually jumpy, kept looking behind us. By the time he spotted the storm rolling in, we were grateful for the excuse to bug out. I don’t like this place. I don’t like these woods. I just . . . don’t.”

Beside her, Daisy whines her agreement. Luciana places a soothing hand on her head. “When we get back to camp, I need to tend to her. And I don’t mean food and foot care. I mean she’s rattled by the conditions and dejected she never found her target. She needs to end on a good note. Morale matters.” Lucy looks around at our group. “For all of us.”

I nod in understanding. This has been a long, strange day. Unfortunately, I have a feeling it’s about to get worse.

Nemeth rises to standing. “All right,” he states. “Time to head out.”



* * *



—

Nemeth spreads the blue emergency blanket in a diagonal pattern across the makeshift litter. Miggy and Scott help Neil lie down on top, then Nemeth uses the edges of the blanket to wrap up the injured man like a human burrito. Pretty slick, I think. Neil’s conscious again, but clearly in pain. Luciana activates a second instant cold compress and tucks it behind his head. Neil smiles gratefully. Final step, using sections of the rope to secure Neil’s form in the carrier.

Now Bob positions himself at the front right pole, while Miggy grabs the left. On the count of three, they lift as one, raising the front of the litter off the ground. The back ends of the two poles are left to drag, which is when I finally get it—travois versus litter. Because Neil doesn’t need to be fully immobilized, such as someone with a bad break or spinal injury. He just needs transportation assistance. Not to mention, given we are now a party of seven mobile persons, we can rotate out two carriers much more easily than four.

With everyone in position, Nemeth starts walking, Daisy and Luciana following on his heels. Next comes the travois, with Scott trailing behind it. Martin glances at me impatiently; he’s clearly waiting to bring up the rear now that Bob has medic duties.

I take the opportunity to fall in step beside Scott. He’s immediately skittish, looking at anything but me.