Page 84 of Wilderness Daddy

Chapter Eighteen

Landon

I don’t follow Kari like I told her. I can’t risk the others coming after us—hunting her. Instead, I grab Red’s shotgun and hit him on the head with it—hard. He drops like a rock. A small part of me hopes I’ve killed him, but my other more human side just hopes he’s out of commission long enough that we can get him into the hands of the authorities. A good coma and many long years in prison will satisfy me, but reality says I’ve bought us no more than minutes.

I get his guns, two-way radio, and knife, and then drag him behind some felled trees. It’s only then that I follow after Kari. She’s ahead of me by more than ten minutes and although I can track her easily enough, I don’t want her alone, so I hurry. She’s strong, I’ve learned nothing if I haven’t learned this, but I can’t stand the thought of her alone and worried. Another thing I’ve learned; Kari worries about me as much as I do her.

I toss the shotgun off a steep, rocky embankment. It’s too cumbersome to carry with me. The other stuff I shove in my pockets. I recognize the changing terrain, sparser trees, larger rock protruding from the earth. and the rushing sound of water made by the widening of the river that’s close. I know my way back from here.

Gillie and Billy had backpacks on so they’ll still have supplies and weapons, but I think Kari sweetened the kid up on her and he might not be so quick to use anything against her. I take a second to smile at my baby girl’s scheming. It’s far better used for good than tricking me into a cold lake.

Just remembering how mad I was at her that day makes me chuckle. Feels like forever ago and I had no idea then how much I’d love the little minx. I quicken my pace.

It doesn’t take me long to find her tracks and where they end. My heart hits my throat as I come across the spot where she’d hid. And by the looks of the prints around it, she was hiding from something big. I blow out a breath. Thinking of the ‘Sasquatch.’ The prints aren’t made by boots but are clearly bipedal, and although they’re footprints, they’re not defined like Bigfoot casts. Could it be him? The large figure that dropped the girl off in my care? I wonder about the blonde then too. Is she even alive?

I follow the big tracks now. With Kari’s gone it’s my only option. After a few hours, I know I’m getting close. I crouch low to examine a track in the moss and grass. The prints are still deep and the grass hasn’t sprung back up yet. I stand and look in the direction the print is pointed.

I don’t see or hear anything but my heart flips at the thought of finding Kari soon. I can’t wait to hold her in my arms again, to feel her against me as if we were made to fit like a puzzle piece. “Hang on, beautiful, Daddy’s coming.”

A chopper overhead makes me look up. I wait in a sparser spot, looking skyward attempting to flag it with waving arms.

It doesn’t see me, but it’s definitely a SAR chopper. The search and rescue team is looking, which makes me hopeful. When the chopper is out of sight, I continue.

Dusk hits and I still haven’t found her. Tracking in the dim light is impossible, so I start calling out for her, my gut in knots with worry.

I should have found her by now. I was close. Did he hide her because the helicopter was flying overhead? Sasquatch or reclusive wild man, either is a good reason to hide. Some people lose themselves in these mountains for good reason.

Frustrated, I roar into the vast forest, taking a moment for the unproductive but satisfying venting. But then I make camp, gathering as much wood as I can before the black of night steals my sense of sight.

Worry gnaws in my gut as I set up for my fire. I don’t have my fire steel so I gather a vine and peel the bark from it, entwining it into a rope of sorts before making a bow out of another branch and splitting it on either end to feed my makeshift rope into it.

I lay out a piece of dry birch bark and scrape it with the knife I took from Gillie. The resin in the bark will help my fire catch and since I don’t have my fire steel I need this to happen as quickly as possible. It takes a lot more energy to make fire this way.

I take a stick, loop it once in the bowstring, and slide the bow back and forth quickly. The vine rope rubs against the stick and the friction causes it to smoke. After a few intense minutes and a fine sheen of sweat on my brow, it finally catches.

When the fire is going, I take a moment to appreciate the heat of it. I hadn’t realized how cold it was in my rush to find Kari and now that I’m still, I feel both it and the gnawing worrying over Kari. My gut churns. Is she cold, hungry, in danger?

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