He strained his hearing, listening for that noise inside. It sounded like footsteps. Cillian adjusted his grip on his rifle, finger resting over the trigger guard as he focused on the door. A creak sounded inside before a tentative voice called out, “Hello?”
“Hey there, ma’am. I’m Ranger Dunne. Could you open the door, please?”
It took a few minutes before she did so, and Cillian couldn’t fault her hesitancy, not with the damage done to the door and the walls of the cabin. When the door finally cracked open, a woman’s pale face peered out at him, blue eyes bloodshot with dark circles beneath them. She had a scrape on her cheek that could’ve been from a fall or a branch, scabbed over now in the hours since she obtained it. Cillian did a quick once-over, not seeing any other wounds on her, but he needed to be sure.
“Are you hurt?” Cillian asked.
The way her expression crumpled into immediate tears made himwince. She sobbed as she stumbled out of the cabin, her entire body shaking, but she seemed to be moving all right. Cillian wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her away from the cabin door.
“Where’s Jack?” she gasped out.
Cillian thought of the torn-up body Mac had radioed he was handling farther down the path and ignored her question. “What’s your name? Can you tell me what happened?”
“Samantha.” Her lips quivered as she spoke. Her hair had bits of leaves and small twigs stuck in it from her run through the forest. “We were hiking, and it was getting late, so we headed back to the car. Jack thought he saw someone in the woods coming toward us. Only it was—and he told me to run?—”
She broke off with a ragged sob, covering her mouth with her hand. She shook so violently that Cillian worried she’d break a tooth. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
He made sure the cabin door was shut but not locked before guiding her down the dirt path through the trees. Sunlight filtered through the branches, but they passed through more shade than brightness. Samantha’s grip on him was tight in a desperate way. Cillian had to be careful with how he carried his rifle on the walk back to the road. Halfway there, he radioed ahead. “Ranger Seven to Ranger One, do you copy, over?”
Static crackled for a second before Mac responded. “Ranger One copies, over.”
“I’m on my way back with a hiker who was in the cabin. We’re half a mile out, over.”
“Copy that. We’ll be ready, out.”
Cillian let go of the receiver hooked to his shoulder strap and focused on getting Samantha out of the woods. Letting her huddle close meant he couldn’t hold his rifle with both hands, but if anything approached, he’d still be able to aim and fire quickly. Luckily, nothing hunted them on their retreat back to the road, which now held more than just his truck. Mac’s was parked there as well, along with a patrol car.
Mac and the patrolman stood off the dirt path, in the underbrush, and Cillian knew not to let Samantha see whatever they were looking at.Beyond them, waiting on the road by the patrol car, were the two hikers who had called in the body and who Cillian had told to stay behind while he went into the woods.
“Let’s get you seen to.” Cillian steered Samantha toward his truck and let her sit in the front passenger seat. Now that they weren’t on the move, he could see some of the scrapes and cuts on her arms were pretty deep. “I have a first aid kit in the back of the truck.”
He stepped back, and she reached for him, panic filling her face. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.” He pointed at the truck bed. “I’ll be right there.”
Cillian went to get what he needed and wasn’t surprised to see Mac walking toward him. He unhooked the tailgate and folded it down, resting his rifle on it. “Sorry, I wasn’t able to stay with the body, but a second set of footprints led toward the cabin. I had to check it out.”
Mac nodded, resting his elbows on the side of the truck. “Your instincts were right. She’s alive, at least.”
Cillian reached for the first aid kit and pulled it closer to him. He drummed his fingers over the top, staring at the bright red cross painted on the rugged case. “She said they saw something in the woods, and she ran for the cabin. She made it, but the cabin has claw marks all around the walls. Looks like it could’ve been a bear.”
Mac’s expression was shuttered when Cillian looked up. “Lee radioed for backup, so the police will handle the body and the survivor. The ME hasn’t left Pelham yet. I called dispatch and got who’s on station duty to have her come out here to handle the scene so she doesn’t have to make a second trip. You and I should take another look at the cabin before she gets here.”
Cillian looked past Mac at the forest, listening to the rustle of leaves moved by the summer breeze. “All right. Lee can see to Samantha.”
“Is that her name?”
“Yeah. The dead guy is Jack. I think he saved her life. He knew she needed to get to the cabin.”
Mac pushed away from the truck. “If he’s local, I don’t envy that conversation with the family.”
As park rangers, it wasn’t their duty to notify the living of the dead. That fell on the police, and Cillian was glad for it in that moment.
Lee came back to the road, meeting them at the truck. He was an older man, weathered a bit from time spent outdoors, and of a generation who didn’t question Mac when Cillian’s captain said they were going to check on the cabin.
“Better you than me,” Lee said, fingers worrying at a dark, coin-shaped object in one hand. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Cillian handed over his first aid kit and left Samantha’s care to Lee. He took his rifle with him back into the forest, past the body, following Mac down that shadowy, tree-lined path. Occasionally, Mac would pause next to a tree, studying its bark and the witchmark carved into it, the edges of each one a little dull from overgrowth. Like sign markers, each witchmark led the way through the twisting dirt path to the small cabin.
