Brooke’s vision narrowed. The leg was pale and waxy, clearly not attached to a living person. And as her eyes adjusted to what she was seeing, she realized the mound wasn’t just dirt. It was a cache.
A bear cache.
She’d seen photos in wildlife management presentations. Bears covered their kills, saving them for later and defending them aggressively from anything that got too close.
The ground beneath her feet seemed to tilt. She took a step back, then another, her breathing going ragged as panic set in.
Her foot caught on something, and she went down hard, landing on her hip in another pile of disturbed earth.
This one had an arm visible.
She scrambled up with a strangled sound, backing away from both caches, her mind racing through implications she didn’t want to process. Two bodies. Two separate caches. Which meant the bear had been actively hunting, killing.
She needed to run. She needed to get out of here right now, because if there was a grizzly defending these kills, she was in immediate danger.
But even through her panic, she knew she’d never find this spot again. The police would need to locate the bodies. She needed to mark it somehow.
Her hands shook as she shrugged out of her daypack. Water, granola bars, jerky, a map, a multitool, an emergency blanket, and—yes, there—a length of paracord.
Brooke pulled out the cord and the multitool, cutting off a piece with the small blade. Her fingers felt thick and clumsy as she tied the bright orange cord around the nearest tree, knotting it multiple times to make sure it wouldn’t come loose.
Is this close enough? Will this help them find it?
It would have to do. She wasn’t going any closer to those bodies. She moved in the direction of where she hoped the trail was.
“Okay, okay,” she said, her breath ragged and sweat trailing down her spine. As the well-worn trail came into view, she added another length of cord. Hopefully that’d be enough for whoever she called to find the bodies.
“I’m getting out of here.” She shouldered her pack. The trailhead was closest if she went to the right. She’d probably have service there and could call for help.
“Take a breath, Brooke. Take several and then get going. Two miles. You can run this in fifteen minutes. No problem.” She gave herself a nod and tightened the straps on her backpack.
A sound caught her attention.
Rustling. Movement. Getting closer.
Please don’t let it be a bear. Please don’t let it be a bear.
Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat, in her temples, in her fingertips.
She grabbed a heavy limb from the ground and gripped it like a club. If it was a bear, maybe she could hit it hard enough to buy herself time to run.
No. Don’t run. That’s the worst thing you could do. Make yourself big. Threatening. Use the bear spray.
She dropped the stick and pulled the bear spray off her belt.
If the bear was within thirty feet, she’d deploy the spray. If it came around that tree line ahead, it was going to be much closer than thirty feet.
She needed to be ready.
The rustling got louder. Was there more than one? A sow with cubs would be worse. So much worse. They attacked to protect their young.
Fear threatened to overwhelm her as she gripped the bear spray. The sounds were getting louder. Closer. Too close. Then she saw it. Movement on the trail. A figure rounded the bend and stopped.
Chapter 2
Tyler
Tyler Gillis noticed the woman before she noticed them.
