Page 1 of Manhunt in the Narrows
Chapter One
There were human remains all over the park.
National park ranger Sayles Green leaned into the familiar burn at the back of her quads as she descended past the Emerald Pools trailhead and into the main vein of the park.
Zion National Park could’ve been considered a wonder of the world with its sheer rock faces and plummeting gorges. Plant life thrived in the middle of the desert where temperatures reached over 110 degrees multiple times throughout the year. It wasn’t just cacti and dead things that kept her eyes from itching and her nose from spreading her DNA over every trail and tourist but maple trees, horsetail that looked like failing bamboo, and fuzzy great mullein. Rare. Exquisite. Isolated.
The park was no Grand Canyon, at least not in the sense of how many bodies she and her fellow rangers pulled through the front entrance, but she liked to think that was due to her dedication to protect the park from the people and the people from the park.
Still, there was an off chance the report she’d gotten less than an hour ago from a frantic, glassy-eyed tourist—most likely a victim of the alcohol she’d smelled on his breath—held some weight. Of all the national parks in the United States, Zion had its own reputation for falls from its 5,000-plus-foot cliff faces, for drownings and hypothermia thanks to the 1,000-foot depth of the Virgin River, and for its sheer ability to attract themost egotistical and arrogant hikers on the planet. Because they certainly couldn’t die on a simple hike, right?
Sayles followed the man-made bridge over the tail end of the river and into the parking lot on the other side of the main artery that shuttled hikers to any one of eight current open trailheads. The truth was, anyone could die out here. A teen stepping off a cliff edge in the middle of the night looking for a restroom. A child who’d gotten too close to the river’s spring rapids and fallen in. A grown man trying to get the perfect angle for a selfie along the park’s most dangerous ascent with nothing but a chain handrail between him and a 5,000-foot drop.
She’d seen it all. Grieved it all.
And yet this park—with its dangers and fair share of overpacked trails and stupid mistakes—was all she had left. All she wanted. She protected woods and wildlife from hunters, destructive tourists and the occasional fire. She brought bad guys to justice while maybe even saving a few lives in the process. She’d carried scorpions and rattlesnakes out of campgrounds and her own personal trailer, transported a bighorn sheep to a rehab center, and convinced a bear to get out of a dumpster near the visitors’ center. She’d changed flat tires, helped resolve marital disputes, provided directions and managed to extricate dozens of keys locked in cars. Her life as a ranger was as multifaceted as it could get. Freeing. Hers.
Sayles stood in line with the rest of the group waiting for the next shuttle. A couple of kids on leashes dared to strain against their parents’ hold under and around the flimsy barriers meant to corral tourists into single-file lines, and she had to check herself from asking whether they’d come with their shots or if that’d been a separate appointment. The sun’s heat worked its way beneath her uniform. The button-up short-sleeve shirt and shorts weren’t fashionable in any sense of the word, but they got the job done. And that was what she was here to do. A job.The buses came every ten minutes. She didn’t have to wait long before the newly christened electric shuttle pulled to the curb.
The driver’s radio crackled with a request from the other end as she ascended the two steps at the front of the bus with a nod in greeting. The cell coverage in the canyons was nonexistent most days and unreliable on others. Couldn’t take the chance of dropping calls during an emergency evac. She didn’t know the shuttle driver’s name. Hell, she could barely remember her own most nights as she fell into a dreamless sleep of exhaustion after her shift. That was how she liked it. Drivers, rangers—and their perspective cohorts—maintenance personnel and scientists tended to keep to their own pacts.
Sayles took her seat across from the family with the two children feral enough to require leashes, and the shuttle kicked into gear with a jolt. It didn’t take long to hit the next stop. Two minutes, maybe three, before she was descending the bus stairs and dropping onto the sidewalk in front of the Temple of Sinawava trailhead.
Into a land of fishermen.
Hikers trudged across the open grass as though they were wading through several feet of water, sleeved in thick waterproof overalls, heavy rain boots and jackets. Because that was what was required to gain access to the Narrows—a sixteen-mile combination of rapids, unclimbable sandstone gorges and a maze of death traps. Sayles walked the one mile to the end of the paved riverside walk and was confronted with a crowd gathering at the edge of the Virgin River.
Right where the inebriated tourist had told her to look.
“Park ranger, step aside.” She forced her way through a crowd of sweating red faces and odor-heavy shirts. To find a body half submerged in the river’s clutches.
Holy hell. Sayles lunged for the man’s side and pressed two fingers to his neck. No pulse. She grabbed the radio on herhip and pressed the push-to-talk button. “Risner, come in.” It took a few seconds, but the radio gods were looking down on them today, and she managed to get through. Her skin heated underneath her ponytail and iconic ranger hat as she studied the face staring back at her. There was still some color in his cheeks, a touch of warmth despite the freezing temperatures of the river. But he was undeniably dead.
“Go ahead, Green.” The district ranger’s voice broke on her name. Risner wasn’t anything spectacular when it came to the job. By the book, a little bit sexist and a whole lot of bland. But she couldn’t do this without him. He’d come on a decade before she’d been hired, but they’d been up for the same promotion a few months ago. She’d gladly passed on rising to district ranger to him. Too much paperwork. He’d have a lot more today.
She surveyed the cluster of onlookers around her and gauged her chances of being able to control them on her own. It wasn’t looking good as another shuttle full of hikers ambled down the paved path right toward them. “I need one of the law enforcement rangers. We’ve got a body. We have to close access to the Narrows and get everyone off the trail. And you’re going to want to get up here. Now.”
“What the hell is going on out there?” Risner asked.
“We’ve got a body.” She managed to branch one arm out to keep tourists from getting too close to the scene, but she couldn’t do anything to stop them from getting photos and taking video.
Whispers breathed through the mass.
Is he dead?
Wait. Was he killed?
Did he drown?
The same questions tried to break through the barrier of detachment she’d constructed the moment she’d set eyes on the body, but she couldn’t give them weight.
“Everyone, please. I’m going to need you to take a step back.” Sayles tried to herd them toward the paved path, but it was just like any other day when dealing with people who thought they knew better than a trained professional in the middle of the most dangerous environment on the planet. Negotiating with wild cats. The whispers grew louder. Full panic was about to take hold. Question after question vaulted through the crowd at her, as though she knew all the details of how a body had ended up on her trail. But she’d dealt with far more terrifying circumstances than this. She set her fingers between her lips and whistled above the increasing assault of questions. “Everyone, look here. I’m Ranger Green, and I need you to do exactly as I instruct to ensure you all make it out of the park tonight. Is there anyone who saw what happened?”
Nobody raised their hand.
“Has anyone seen this man before? Maybe on one of the trails or at the visitors’ center?” A hand went up in the back. “Great. Come stand by me. Did anyone see or hear anything unusual here on the trailhead or on the trail?”
“I heard a scream. I… I turned around and there he was. Just lying there,” a woman said. Her voice betrayed the realization sinking in minute by minute. She’d wrapped her arms around herself as though she were guilty of killing the man herself. A tremor shuttered through her. Shock. She was going into shock. “I didn’t know what to do.”
