Chapter 4 - The Mountain Pass
The storm was unrelenting as Detective Miller’s unmarked police cruiser navigated the steep, winding dirt tracks of Pine Creek Mountain.
Heavy rain smashed against the windshield, almost blinding the wipers, while thick mud splattered against the tires. Behind Miller’s car, two state police SUVs followed with their high-beam lights cutting through the dense, dark fog of the pine forest.
Harper sat in the front passenger seat of Miller’s vehicle. Despite Miller’s initial objections, Harper had insisted on coming along. She knew every curve, every abandoned logging trail, and every hidden clearing on this mountain—knowledge she had acquired during childhood summer trips to her grandfather’s cabin.
“The main logging road forks ahead,” Harper said, pointing through the blurred glass toward a dark silhouette of trees. “Left goes toward the old fire watchtower. Right leads directly to the hunting lodge. If Victor is leading, he’ll take the right fork because it’s covered by dense canopy.”
Miller nodded, speaking into his radio headset. “Units two and three, prepare to split at the fork. Unit two, block the left trail in case they double back. Unit three, stay on my bumper.”
As the cruiser rounded a sharp hair-pin turn, the headlights caught something lying in the mud near the edge of a steep ravine.
Miller slammed on the brakes. The cruiser skidded slightly before coming to a complete stop.
It was an SUV—the dark blue family vehicle belonging to Harper’s parents. The front bumper was crumpled against a massive oak tree, the hood smoking faintly in the cold rain. The driver’s door was thrown wide open, flapping uselessly in the wind.
“Stay in the car, Harper!” Miller commanded, pulling his service weapon from his holster as he opened his door and stepped out into the pouring rain.
Harper ignored his order. She unbuckled her seatbelt and scrambled out of the vehicle, her sneakers instantly sinking into the thick, freezing mud.
She ran toward the wrecked SUV.
“Dad!” Harper screamed over the roar of the wind.
She reached the open driver’s door and looked inside.
Arthur was slumped over the steering wheel, his face pale gray, his lips tinged with a faint bluish hue. He was clutching his chest, his breath coming in shallow, agonizing gasps. In the backseat, Chloe was sitting crumpled against the window, her face bruised and covered in tears, her arms wrapped around herself.
Eleanor was gone.
“Chloe!” Harper yelled, reaching into the backseat to unbuckle her sister. “Are you okay?”
“Harper...” Chloe sobbed, collapsing out of the car into Harper’s arms. “Mom... Mom tried to take the wheel from Dad because he was slowing down... they fought over the steering wheel, and we hit the tree...”
Miller reached the driver’s side, placing two fingers against Arthur’s neck to check his pulse. “He’s in severe cardiac arrest! Unit three, get the paramedic kit from my trunk right now! We need a chest compressor and oxygen!”
State troopers rushed forward with medical gear, pulling Arthur gently from the ruined vehicle and laying him on a tarp on the ground to begin CPR.
Harper held her weeping sister against her shoulder. “Where is Mom? Where is Victor?”
Chloe pointed a trembling finger up the narrow, steep footpath that led deeper into the dark forest toward the mountain crest.
“Victor’s van got stuck in the mud a mile back,” Chloe whimpered. “He came back on foot. When the car crashed, Mom got out... she grabbed Victor’s arm, and they took the rifle and ran up the foot trail toward the lodge. She wouldn’t even look at Dad, Harper! She left him here to die!”
Harper looked up at the black, imposing trail disappearing into the storm. A profound, icy anger settled deep within her chest—a clarity so intense that all fear vanished entirely.
“They’re going to the lodge,” Harper told Miller, who was supervising the troopers as they worked on her father’s chest.
Miller wiped the rain from his eyes, looking up at the trail. “Tactical units are ten minutes behind us. We wait for backup. We have an armed suspect in a dark forest with zero visibility.”
“Ten minutes is enough time for them to reach the Canadian border trail on the other side of the ridge,” Harper argued, her voice cold and unyielding. “I know the layout of that lodge, Detective. I know where the rear generator is, and I know where the old escape cellar comes out. If you go in blind through the front, Victor will pick your officers off from the second-story windows with that rifle.”
Miller stared at Harper, evaluating the fierce, absolute determination in her eyes.
“You stay behind me at all times,” Miller ordered sharply, clicking his flashlight on and attaching it to his tactical vest. “If a single shot is fired, you drop to the ground. Do you understand me?”
May you like
Harper nodded once. “Let’s go.”
They began their ascent up the muddy trail, their boots slipping against the wet rocks as the storm howled through the pine trees above them like a chorus of vengeful ghosts.
