The River (13 page)

Carefully, she knelt on the ground beneath the tree and brushed a hand against its rough bark. Then she reached out and caressed a shiny leaf.

"How come I've never heard of this tree before, Hawk?"

"We didn't want scientists coming in, taking samples or chopping it down."

"It's fascinating."

"The map starts here," Miki said. "2
M…N. T
wo meters north?"

Hawk took out his compass, headed six paces north―straight into a thick patch of trees. "It can't be two meters. There's nothing here."

Del compared their location to the map.

Hawk was right.

Nothing on Schroeder's map matched. So 2M had to mean…

She chuckled, immediately feeling very stupid.

"What?" Jake asked.

"
Schroeder was old school. He didn't
do
metric. We have to go two
miles
."

Heaving her bag over her shoulder, she followed Hawk through the woods. The trek was mostly uphill, and the ground uneven. Uprooted trees blocked their path and they had to climb over them, or around.

It didn't take long before she stumbled.

"Could I possibly be any clumsier?" she said with a self-conscious laugh.

Jake held out a thick tree branch. "Here."

She scowled. "A cane?"

"A walking stick," he said, snapping off a second branch.

Then he turned on his heel and walked away, digging his stick into the ground with each step.

Why is he so thoughtful…and so damned married?

As they wandered deeper into the shadows of the alpine forest, they remained constantly vigilant for signs of bears. It wasn't long before they found some. A cluster of birch trees had been gouged by long, sharp claws, the bark shredded like paper. Golden tree sap oozed from the open sores.

Like blood.

Del shivered.

Then they came across large prints in the muddy ground.

"Fresh grizzly tracks," Hawk said, worried. "Heading north."

They veered slightly east, then backtracked to stay on course.

An hour later, they stopped.

Hawk eyed the GPS map. "This is about two miles. What are we looking for, Del?"

"Something that looks like a lady's shoe."

Beside her, Miki considered the journal and gave a sudden laugh.

She hurried toward a patch of colorful bushes. Examining the foliage, she shook her head and strode through the tall grass, past Peter and Gary.

"Over here!"

The girl pointed to a bush with sunny yellow blossoms.

"
Cypripedium calceolus
."

Seven pairs of eyes stared blankly in her direction.

"Yellow Lady's Slipper," she explained with a laugh.

Del's excitement mounted. They were on the right track.

"The map says head northeast from here," she said. "One mile."

Gary scratched a patch of angry mosquito bites on his arm. "Then what?"

With one finger, Del traced a wavy line on the page. "A short, narrow river, I think."

"Trust me," Hawk said, leaning against a tree. "There aren't any rivers around here."

"But what else could this be?"

"A creek," Miki blurted.

Hawk shook his head. "No creeks either."

"Maybe we should stop for the night," Peter said tentatively. "Set up camp here."

It was getting late, but Del didn't want to stop. It was difficult to quell her anticipation…and her fear. They were so close to finding the secret river. So close to finding her father.

Her stomach churned.

"Why don't we go for another hour?"

Everyone agreed and she was very grateful.

Ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Hawk headed northeast.

Could the legends be true? Is there really a secret river?

He led them across beds of wildflowers, past a ridge of boulders and down a steep incline of scrub grass. At the bottom, he stopped, shocked.

An old, abandoned campfire lay nestled in the grass.

"People live around here?" Jake asked him.

"Not that I know of."

"So who made the fire? Schroeder?"

Hawk darted a nervous look toward the trees.

"I don't know, Jake."

Strange…very strange.

A harsh shout distracted him.

Hawk spun around and saw Gary Ingram standing a few yards away, flapping his arms up and down. The man's mouth gaped open as he pointed to something.

"Look!"

Ten

A
lerted by Gary's cry, Hawk rushed to his side.

"What's wrong?"

"Isn't that a river?" Gary asked.

Hawk's jaw dropped.

Between the leafy branches and looming shadows, the ground crumbled away and a ten-foot drop plummeted below. At the bottom, a constricted serpentine river slithered across the land. Polished smooth by sun, rain and wind, a winding graveyard of vanilla-white pebbles littered the floor of the river, like golf balls at a driving range.

The river was bone dry.

Perched on the pebbles, a lone raven with glossy black feathers created a stark contrast to the off-white gleam of the riverbed. It picked voraciously at the bloody corpse of a small, furry animal trapped between the rocks.

Suddenly, it lifted its head, glaring with small beady eyes.

"Raven was created as the leader among leaders," Hawk said.

He acknowledged the bird with a humble nod.

"More like a scavenger," Francesca snorted.

She lit a cigarette and blew a smoke ring into the air.

Hawk eyed her candidly. "The most powerful and clever of all peoples, its knowledge was sought by all. But thinking that it was nearly perfect, Raven insisted to be painted better than all the other birds."

"But it's ugly!"

"Because of its vanity and selfishness, it was painted black."

"Hey!" TJ said indignantly. "Black is beautiful!"

Hawk flicked a disparaging look at Francesca.

"All things of nature hold beauty."

Somewhere.

Jake turned to Del. "Is this the river on your map?"

"Yeah, but not the secret river."

When she tipped her head to look up at him, strands of short golden hair caught the rays of the fading sun, and the sight made Jake's heart race.

Delila Hawthorne was stunning.

"We'll find it, Del. What next?"

"We follow the riverbed until it ends."

Holding out the journal, she turned to Hawk.

"What's this circle thing look like to you?"

Jake peered over her shoulder, then sucked in a breath.

Wait! This is impossible!

"I don't know," Hawk said. "But,
that
…is a key. We'll head out first thing in the morning. Jake, you and Gary get a fire going. I'll rig the food cache and set up the tents. The women'll be in one and the five of us guys in the other. TJ and Peter, you get latrine duty."

Jake nudged Gary, grabbed an axe and headed toward the trees.

"I'm not very good outdoors," Gary apologized.

"Then we're even," Jake smiled. "I'm not good with computers."

He spotted Del standing near the riverbed. She was staring at it longingly. He could almost read her mind.
We're so close…

"Think her father's still alive?" Gary murmured.

"She thinks so. And she may be right."

Del's father had taken Jake under his wing shortly after he joined Bio-Tec. Having earned a Bachelor's degree in Biomedical Engineering Technology and a Master's in Nanotechnology, Jake had been honored to be assigned as assistant to Dr. Lawrence Hawthorne, whose notable work included research into aging, cellular reconstruction and rampant disease annihilation. He had worked alongside Lawrence for five years, listening to unusual theories and progressive ideas.

Jake rubbed his tattoo self-consciously.

The DNA strand on his shoulder represented the essence of life. It was the same symbol that was inside the circle on the map, in Schroeder's journal. The same symbol used in the new logo of a cutting-edge bio-medical research corporation―
Bio-Tec Canada
.

But Schroeder's been gone seven years. How the hell did he know anything about the new logo? Not even Lawrence knew.

Jake thought about the last time he had seen Del's father. A few months before Lawrence's disappearance, his behavior had become increasingly odd. He was more secretive, displaying signs of paranoia, especially when Edward Moran was in the lab.

Had Lawrence and Schroeder stumbled upon something significant at Bio-Tec―something that had resulted in their supposed deaths? Or was it coincidental?

Jake shook his head.
I don't believe in coincidence.

The next morning, after a restless sleep, Jake stood with the others at the top of the riverbed, while Hawk picked his way down the side of the embankment. The loose rock made the path treacherously slippery, and he stumbled a few times but managed to stay on his feet.

"Hasn't been a river here in decades," Hawk shouted.

A hand grabbed Jake's arm.

"For balance," Del said, blushing. "I get vertigo sometimes."

"What about me, Jake?"

Francesca stood three feet behind them, but before he could say a word, TJ slipped up beside her.

"I'll help you down," he said.

Francesca turned, taking TJ's arm and rewarding the tall black man with a tremulous smile. Then, with a backward scowl, she followed him down the embankment.

Jake rubbed his forehead, frustrated.

Francesca was obviously pissed, and that made him angry. They were over. Why couldn't Francesca get that? All he wanted from her was friendship and a pleasant working relationship―nothing more.

What do I want?

His head jerked, catching sight of a familiar face.

He wanted…Del.

Shocked by this revelation, he felt his face grow warm.

"You okay?" Del asked.

He nodded. "Take your time, the rocks are loose."

"I'll be fine as long as you stay right in front of me."

His eyes narrowed at the trace of humor in her tone.

She shrugged. "That way if I fall, I'll land on you."

"It wouldn't be the first time you've landed in my arms. I kind of like it. Maybe I'll trip you up on purpose."

His teasing flustered her and she looked away.

So Del wasn't immune to him after all.
Interesting…

He turned and took a hesitant step forward, searching for the easiest route down. All of a sudden, something slammed into him. Hard. Arms flailing, he fought to keep his balance but his feet slid from under him. With a dull
thud
, he landed on his rear end.

"That's gonna leave a mark," he groaned.

Lifting his head, he spotted Del sprawled on top of Peter.

"It was the Domino effect," she said. "Peter slid into me, I slid…"

She burst into laughter, struggling to her feet.

The others moved toward him but Jake waved them away. The last thing he needed was an audience to complete his humiliation.

He shifted slightly, testing his joints. Nothing was broken.

"You gonna lay there all day, Kerrigan?" Del demanded.

He bit back a snide reply.

Taking her outstretched hand, he grimaced when he stood.

"Your jeans are ripped."

Del was right.

Below the left back pocket, a large tear exposed his black boxers. He reached back and tried to tuck in the flap of denim, but as soon as he moved, the flap drooped.

"How's your butt?" she asked.

"Bruised."

Like my ego.

The corner of her mouth lifted. "Well, if you're done making an ass of yourself―pun intended―let's get going."

"Jesus! Can't a guy get a little compassion here?"

"What do you expect, a pity party?"

He swiftly reached out and gripped her arms, just above the crook of her elbows. His eyes drifted over her soft, luscious lips, and resisting the impulse to kiss her, he leaned within inches of her mouth.

"I kissed your owie better when you cut your finger."

"So what, you expect me to…kiss your butt?"

He flashed a sly grin.

"Dream on, Kerrigan!"

"I will."

He pulled back slightly. "Can't you feel it, Del?"

"What?"

His eyes narrowed. "This…
spark
. Or whatever it is between us."

She slipped from his grasp. "There is nothing between us, Jake. You're here for one reason and one reason only. To help me find my dad. Got it?"

His reply was interrupted by TJ.

"You gonna live, dawg?"

Jake's head swiveled.

Six pairs of eyes were aimed at them.

"Yeah," he said wryly. "At least for another day."

Peter picked up Del's bag from the ground.

"Do we keep going, Jake?"

"Any reason not to?"

The young man shook his head and handed Del the bag.

As they followed the riverbed, a shiver of apprehension trickled down Jake's spine.

There's no turning back now.

A few yards ahead of everyone, Del hid a smirk.

Although she had a few bruises and sore spots, it was nothing, compared to how Jake probably felt. At least Peter had cushioned her fall. Poor Jake was hobbling like an old man.

Kiss his butt?
Not bloody likely.

She was more apt to kick his butt. The man was an infuriating flirt, and she didn't have the patience for mindless head games―regardless of how handsome the rogue was.

Or how kissable.

She scowled.

When he had grabbed her, she had wanted him to kiss her. For a moment, she thought she would die if he didn't kiss her. There
was
something between―

What in God's name am I thinking?

Without warning, her balance shifted and a rush of dizziness swept over her. But she managed to recover before anyone noticed.

She wasn't surprised that her exacerbations were getting worse. Stress was her number one downfall. What she needed was a holiday, not some bloody trek through the wilderness.