enough light for her to see through the darkened shadows the trees created against the bright white-blue of the moonlit snow. Kate dodged a long-hanging branch, wound through the spruce trees and did her best to bury them so deeply in the brush that no one would be able to find their trail, despite the fresh snow. Even if someone did find the trail, Kate already had a plan for that. She could circle the area where they camped tonight, create some false tracks. Anything that would throw off whoever was following them.
Because they weren’t getting off the mountain tonight. And Kate knew enough from her basic first-aid classes to know that even if he’d rather press on and play hero, Micah would need to rest at least for a short time to give his body a chance to recuperate. The gunshot was only the beginning of what he’d been through, if Kate’s guess was correct. She had a small first-aid kit in her backpack that she never went into the mountains without. When they could stop, she’d do what she could for him.
“Go faster! Don’t wait on me—I can keep up.”
Kate had already been pushing as hard as she could—but she found another gear somewhere, avoided a tree root that curved upward enough it stuck out of the snow and took a sharp left turn.
“Be careful!” She barely raised her voice above a whisper, not wanting to give away their location, but wanting to warn him as the trail she’d picked suddenly sloped downhill. Kate kept running. She paused for a second at a drop-off, only about five feet, then climbed down it before picking up her pace.
A glance back now and then confirmed Micah was staying with her. She didn’t see the shooter anywhere.
Kate didn’t know how long she ran, only knew that by the time she felt she had no choice but to slow down, her heart was beating out a crazy rhythm and her lungs were burning for air. She took a deep breath of it, reached into her backpack pocket for her water bottle and took a long swig.
“Why did you stop?”
“Because some of us didn’t have to pass a police fitness test and I needed to breathe.”
“You’re the very definition of an Alaska girl.” He surveyed her doubtfully. “You aren’t going easy on me because of my arm?”
In the chaos, the urgency, she’d actually forgotten about his arm for a little while, besides the reminder to herself that they’d need to stop eventually. He honestly seemed to be concerned that she’d gone too easy on him, though, which was nice. She’d rather be overestimated than underestimated and she’d had plenty of the second in her life, first as a kid trying to keep up with her brothers and their friends, and even as an adult woman working search and rescue.
“No, I have to breathe.” She took a few more breaths then looked behind them, listening but hearing nothing other than the sounds of scraping spruce branches in the wind. For the moment, there was a brief calm.
Rather than being reassured, though, Kate felt her chest tighten, then her whole body. Her muscles were all ready for fight or flight, and probably would be for some time.
“Tell me who you were after. What are these guys like?” she asked around panting breaths.
Micah frowned. “I said we could talk later.”
She shook her head. “Tell me now. Knowing a person I’m tracking, knowing what they’re like, routes they’re likely to take based on what I can gather of their personalities—it all helps. I’ve never tried to avoid being tracked, but I assume it’s the same concept in reverse.”
He nodded in understanding, shifted on his feet as he thought. “Thieves and smugglers. We thought they were the heads of the organization but now it seems they’re just extremely talented but lower ranking. No known activities besides their illegal ones. No legitimate jobs.”
“Not from Moose Haven, right?”
“One of them has a cabin here, but no.”
“They’re from Anchorage then?”
“Wasilla. But their crimes have mostly been committed in Anchorage, with a few in other locations. Fairbanks. Juneau.”
“Sounds pretty far-reaching.” She nodded, running through criminal profiles again in her mind, trying to get a handle on what they’d be like. “All right, ready?”
“If you are.”
She paused. “Can I see about your arm first?”
He shook his head. “Later. I want more space between us and whoever is shooting.”
Kate started running again, hoping the people pursuing them would lose the trail in the darkness. She was almost tempted to pray; she was so desperate to not be caught. The idea of how close she’d already been to several bullets—she didn’t want to think about it. People knew she was tough; she’d certainly heard her siblings brag about that many times and while it always made her smile, it wasn’t entirely true. She was tough in one context—the woods and the mountains and the backcountry. The backcountry could kill you, but it was logical, usually played by the rules. Even wildlife behavior could be predicted to a degree and Kate had had several run-ins with moose and bears that had ended well for everyone because she’d understood the rules too and played by them.
These men who were after them now?
They didn’t play by the rules.
And that was exactly why she was terrified.
* * *
Following Kate, Micah ran through the darkness, through the trees that were thick on this lower half of the mountain. He supposed he should be thankful they weren’t above the tree line, where there would be no way to avoid detection and nowhere to take shelter.
The way he figured it, they’d have to stop for at least an hour or so later. Neither had to sleep if they didn’t feel like it, but they’d need to eat and rest a little before continuing on. And he needed to pack something around his arm, since over the time he ran it leaked a little more blood. It wasn’t enough to cause problems, at least he didn’t think so, but when they could stop, he’d take better care of it. The pain was a wave of intensity as he ran, but with enough focus he could ignore it, power through it. It was when they stopped that the constant throbbing made him grit his teeth.
His mind turned to his partner again and he felt anger seethe in his middle. The arrest should have gone smoothly. They had done their due diligence to assure that it would and it had still gone wrong and they’d missed something, gotten a huge part of the case wrong.
Who had the third man been? The other man with the Delaneys? He wore a mask over his face, so all Micah knew was that he was a male of average build—not much to go on especially in a state where men outnumbered women.
He felt his frustration grow, this time with himself. Even with his partner, Stephen too, though that made him feel worse—once people were dead weren’t you supposed to think only good things about them? Either way, neither of them realized there was a high-ranking third person involved in this operation; while Micah knew if he was honest that it hadn’t been his fault or Stephen’s that they’d missed it, the criminals had just hidden it well, it still burned that they’d made a mistake, been outnumbered.
Lost one of the good guys.
Micah shook the ache, the events of the last few hours out of his mind. The loss of his partner stung, cut deep. But this wasn’t the time for grieving. He owed it to Stephen to finish what they’d started. Right now that meant focusing on following the woman in front of him. He’d never have thought he’d run into Kate Dawson up here, and wished in a way it was anybody else. Besides Noah, his best friend growing up, Kate had been his favorite of the Dawson siblings. He’d admired her daring, her ability to keep up even though she was two years younger than he was and even more years behind her oldest brother. She wasn’t like other girls he’d known then and she wasn’t like any women he’d met since.
He hated that she was in danger now.
Although if he was honest, she was one of the best-equipped