“Are we ready?” Jake asked impatiently, and I wanted to hug him for it. I couldn’t look for both of them at the same time, but I needed to be actively looking foroneof them.
“Yes, we are,” I said firmly.
“Here’s my hoodie,” Jake said, handing it to Harper. “Ariel got cold, so I let her wear it when I was helping her with her science project. She was the last one to wear it.”
“That should work,” Harlow said. “But you need to stay behind Moose, so he doesn’t pick up your scent and follow it.”
Jake nodded in understanding. “I’ll stay here if that would be better.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Harlow said. Then she held the hoodie in front of Moose and let him smell it. I didn’t hear her give him a command, but the big dog suddenly took off at a fast pace. To my surprise, he headed away from the road and into the trees.
As we walked, the woods got thicker and harder to navigate, but Moose continued forward. Meanwhile, I wondered if we were wasting our time. They could be anywhere, and I was traipsing through the woods following a dog who may or may not have a lock on my daughter’s scent.
“Have the other dogs found anything?” Jake asked.
“Diablo lost Ink’s scent half a mile down the road,” Carbon said. “Shadow was tracking the blood and lost the scent around the same place Diablo lost Ink.”
Logically, that meant the blood belonged to Ink. It was a thought I couldn’t bear to think about. Not at that moment. I needed to focus on the task at hand. Because I was going to fall apart if I stopped to think about what happened to either of them. My whole world was out there, lost and probably hurt, maybe dying if they weren’t already dead. A broken sob escaped from my lips, and I quickly slapped my hand over my mouth.
I could fall apart later.
I would fall apart later.
Inhaling deeply, I squared my shoulders and pushed it all to the back of my mind so I could continue forward.For them.
I don’t know how far we walked or for how long, but I was internally spiraling when Moose finally barked and turned in a circle. Then he howled, long and deep.
“Ariel!” Jake shouted and ran forward. “Ariel!”
We spread out, yelling her name to no avail. Then, through the various calls of my daughter’s name, I heard the one that was different—Jake’s broken guttural cry of her name.
He found her.
And it wasn’t good.
“Ariel!” he screamed. “Oh, fuck, no. Ariel! Please, please, please.”
I turned and sprinted to where he was kneeling by a large rock. In front of him, my unconscious daughter rested on the ground, curled in the fetal position. “Ariel!” I cried and dropped to my knees.
“She’s alive,” Jake said. “She’s breathing.”
Still, I placed my fingers against her neck and felt for a pulse. I sagged in relief when my fingers met warm skin, followed by the steady thump of her heartbeat.
“What do you want to do?” Ember asked from my side. “We can carry her out of here, or we can call for help and wait for emergency services to get here.”
“We should wait for the paramedics,” Jake said and sniffed. “She could have injuries we can’t see.”
I looked up to see him wiping his cheeks as he stared down at my daughter with worry-filled eyes.
“Presley?” Ember asked.
“Uh, yeah. He’s right. She obviously has a head injury, so her neck could be compromised.”
“If they can’t get back here, call my dad,” Jake said.
“They can get back here,” Carbon assured him. “If they can’t, we’ll meet them to get the neck brace and backboard. Then we’ll carry her to them.”
Jake nodded, seemingly satisfied with Carbon’s answer. Harper called it in while I tried to examine Ariel without moving her. I couldn’t see any obvious injuries from the way she was positioned. Her hands and the sleeves of her shirt had a significant amount of blood spatter, but it didn’t appear to be her blood.
