Jordan grabbed his radio and thumbed the mic, then thought better of it. He had two bars of cell service, so he called Beto on the phone.
“Sheriff?”
“We’ve got a trail. Probably her but not confirmed. Send those Crocs. I want the dogs to give them a sniff.”
“Will do. You’d better get back here, though. We’ve got a situation.”
Beto’s voice was cutting in and out, so Jordan wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. “Situation?”
“US Marshals. They’re here and I think they mean to take over.”
SIX
CARA
Follow your own path and respect everyone else’s. Hike your own hike, people. #HYOH
The campsite had been right next to a hiking trail, but Cara didn’t want to run into the campers. She kept moving through the trees, bushwhacking through brush, clambering around rocks, and crunching along the forest floor while moving steadily downhill. She had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but after what seemed like hours, she eventually found a different trail. At least, she assumed it was a different trail. A boulder with a camel’s hump looked familiar, but then, so did a couple others. She was so turned around it was hard to say where she was. Thinking civilization might be somewhere below her, she decided to head uphill.
Walking was so much easier on an established path that even hiking up a switchback was a relief—until she heard voices. Before she could think what to do, a pair of male hikers appeared from above. Headed straight toward her.
Despite her normal-person disguise, Cara’s brain fogged with panic.
It was too late to hide, and running into the bushes was something only an escaped prisoner would do, so she crouched and pretended she was looking at a spiny plant with a yellowish berry that looked plump and semi-edible.
Her hunger was no act. Everything was starting to look like food.
“Looks like a gooseberry,” she pronounced as they neared, as if she had any fucking idea. As if she was just another chatty hiker. “But I can’t be sure because I don’t have my guidebook.”
The two men stopped just uphill and looked at her with expressions she couldn’t quite read.
“Nothing worse than losing something important,” said the stockier one, who had a sandy beard and hair.
The other man pointed to a bush within arm’s reach. “I’m not sure what your plant is, but these are wax currants.” He was handsome and fortyish, like his friend, but taller, leaner, and tanner. Dark curls crept out from underneath his San Francisco 49ers baseball cap.
Both of them were grubby and unwashed, loaded down with full backpacks. They looked like they’d been in the backcountry long enough to have missed the news that an escaped convict was on the loose in the area.
Cara plucked a small red berry from the bush and popped it into her mouth. It was surprisingly tasteless. “How did I miss these?”
“Probably distracted by?—”
“I’m Sanjay,” the darker-haired, friendlier hiker said. “He’s Devin.”
Devin scrunched his face but nodded.
Cara uttered the first name that came to mind. “Karoline. With a K.”
“Nice to meet you, Karoline with a K. I have some trail mix left if you’d like it.” Sanjay reached into the side pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a cloudy, quarter-full baggie.
Cara tried not to stare at it. “I couldn’t take your food.”
“We’re packing out after four nights up here,” Devin said, confirming her assumption. “We would have stayed one more, but that smoke in the west seems like it’s getting closer fast so we’re going to clear out.”
“Help yourself,” Sanjay said. “It’s not far to the trailhead.”
“In that case, thank you.”
She accepted the bag and its half-handful of crumbled nuts, dried fruit, and chocolate chips, willing herself not to dump the whole thing into her mouth. She could gobble it down as soon as the two men walked on.
