the engine’s drone was Carter Hayes’s shield the flight was his ritual and Maverick his dog always slept until today the German Shepherd was suddenly on his feet whining pressing himself against the cockpit window he was staring down at an island Carter had passed 100 times a place of nothing but rock and pine Carter annoyed that his sacred silence was broken banked the plane lower he was ready to scold the dog but then he saw it it was an arrangement that could not be natural three massive letters spelled out in broken logs and boulders
screamed silently from the empty beach an SOS from a place where there was no life Carter had to choose ignore it and keep his peace or descend into that dead zone and face whatever or whoever had created them we invite you to support us by subscribing to the channel the drone of the Lycoming engine was the only constant it was a deep resonating thrum that vibrated through the metal frame of the 1975 Cessna 1 85 through the pedals beneath Carter’s boots and up into his very bones for Carter Haze this sound was not noise it was a shield it was the wall he built around himself
3,000 feet above the cold jagged coast of Maine Carter glanced at the instruments his eyes scanning the dials with a discipline that had been ingrained in him decades ago altitude steady airspeed steady fuel oil pressure all was in order he was a man of 45 but the reflection staring back from the dark glass of the altimeter looked older his face was a map of hard miles weathered by wind and sun and carved with lines that spoke of a life lived outdoors and of a past that refused to stay buried his brown hair too long and unruly
was silvered at the temples tucked back beneath the headset this was his ritual three times a week as long as the notoriously fickle Maine weather allowed he would fly he would leave his small isolated cabin on the coast unlock the tie downs on his old float plane and climb into the sky this was not for pleasure it was not for the joy of flight though he had felt that once a lifetime ago now it was maintenance it was a disciplined route a precise grid he flew over the empty stretches of forest and the vast
grey expanse of the Atlantic the sky was a beautiful empty prison and he was its willing inmate the constant deafening roar of the engine was a blessing a physical barrier of sound that was loud enough just barely to drown out the echoes the echoes were always waiting they waited in the silence of his cabin in the pause between waves crashing on his beach in the dead of night they were the sounds of shouting in a language he still understood the sharp metallic sounds of equipment the final choked cry of his friend Adrian
the ritual the flight the engine’s drone was the only thing that kept the ghosts at bay beside him in the co pilot seat his only companion stirred his name was Maverick he was a six year old German Shepherd a magnificent animal of gray and white with intelligent amber eyes that missed nothing he was not a pet he was a partner the only living soul Carter allowed into his tightly controlled world Maverick was Carter’s anchor his early warning system the dog understood the geography of Carter’s trauma better than any human could sensing the tremors of a memory long before it breached the surface
now Maverick was calm his head resting on his paws his gaze fixed forward he was accustomed to the flight accustomed to the noise he was part of the ritual Carter reached over his gloved hand finding the dog’s head scratching behind the alert upright ears just us Mav Carter murmured though his voice was lost in the engine’s roar they flew on the gray water stretching to a gray horizon they passed over small uninhabited islands lumps of dark granite and dense pine that looked like forgotten fragments of the world Carter checked his watch
another 15 minutes and he could turn back the ritual complete he could land tie down the plane and retreat to the safety of his cabin before the sun began to dip then the ritual broke it started not with a sound but with a feeling a shift in the cabin Maverick lifted his head his ears swiveling a low anxious whine barely audible over the engine vibrated in the dog’s throat Carter’s hand resting on the yoke tensed he glanced at the dog what is it Maverick stood up as much as the seat belt harness would allow
placing his front paws on the dashboard his claws made a light tapping sound against the plastic he was not looking at Carter his gaze was locked on the ocean below specifically on a dark shape that was growing larger Moose Call Island a desolate windswept rock pile that was known only to lobstermen and gulls it’s nothing MAV just rocks but Maverick grew more insistent the whine grew higher in pitch a sound of genuine distress he pushed his wet nose against the windscreen his body trembling slightly Carter felt a hot spike of annoyance
this was not part of the ritual the ritual was smooth predictable and empty this was a complication he scanned the water around the island a submerged rock a stranded seal he banked the old Cessna the wing dipping giving him a clear view of the island it was just as he remembered sheer cliffs on three sides and a small crescent shaped beach on the leeward side choked with driftwood and seaweed he almost missed it just a tangle of dark lines on the gray sand Carter squinted he circled lower the engine’s pitch changing as he eased back the throttle
the plane descended and the lines resolved into three distinct shapes s O s Carter stared his mind refusing to process the image for a full second the letters were huge spelled out in dark stones and massive pieces of driftwood stark against the sand his first reaction was not compassion it was a deep sudden anger an intrusion this was his sky his empty sanctuary and someone had dragged the messy desperate problems of the world into it people a complication his instinct sharp and immediate was to pull back on the yoke climb to his cruising altitude and fly on
he had left that world behind he was not a rescuer he was not a soldier not anymore he was just a man trying to survive his own memories he had nothing left to give and he did not want to be involved he had seen where involvement LED it LED to men like Adrian dying in the dust he leveled the plane his jaw set his eyes fixed on the horizon away from the island but Maverick would not allow it the dog began to bark a sharp frantic sound that cut through the engine’s drone he pawed at the dashboard then turned his head fixing Carter with a look of such unwavering certainty
such desperate pleading that Carter’s resolve fractured the dog knew he always knew Carter looked from the dog back to the desperate signal on the sand the letters looked small pathetic and terrifyingly real he sighed a long ragged breath that seemed to come from the deepest most tired part of him the annoyance faded replaced by a cold familiar resignation he trusted Maverick’s instincts more than his own the dog was his true north the only part of the world that had never lied to him never failed him if Maverick said there was trouble
there was trouble all right Carter said his voice a gravely rumble he clicked the button on his headset’s microphone though he knew he was talking only to the dog all right MAV we’ll look he banked the plane sharply the engine groaning in protest as he cut the throttle further lining up with the small sheltered Cove he lowered the flaps the ritual was broken the world with all its noise and all its pain had found him Carter Hayes and his dog Maverick were descending the world dissolved from a loud vibrating blur into a spray of White Water
Carter cut the engine and the sudden profound silence was more shocking than the engine’s roar had ever been the deep thrum that had been his shield for the past hour was gone and in its place silence a thick heavy unnatural quiet that seemed to press in on the thin metal skin of the Cessna the only sound was the gentle rhythmic lapping of water against the aluminum floats Carter sat for a long moment the quiet ringing in his ears it felt wrong it felt exposed Maverick no longer whining stood on the co pilot seat his body rigid his amber eyes fixed on the gray beach
just 50 yards away okay Carter said his own voice sounding loud and rusty he unbuckled his seat belt he moved with an economy of motion that was born of long habit from behind his seat he pulled his old brown leather flight jacket it was worn smooth in places the leather creased and dark smelling faintly of oil and the cold sea air it was an old friend a piece of armor he shrugged it on beneath it holstered on his belt was his Sig Sour P 2:00 20 six he never flew without it he checked that the weapon was secure his hand brushing against the cold steel next he reached for Maverick’s harness
it was a professional grade tactical harness not a civilian leash Carter’s hands moved deftly clicking the buckles into place over the dog’s powerful shoulders Maverick stood perfectly still accepting the gear he knew this too this was work Carter grabbed a small waterproof dry bag checked the contents a compact first aid kit a satellite phone a length of rope a flashlight and slung it over his shoulder he opened the cabin door the hinges making a small protesting sound the salt air hit him cold and damp
he stepped out onto the float his boots making a hollow SoundOn the metal he tied the plane’s rope to a large half submerged rock securing the knot with practiced efficiency Maverick followed moving balanced and low jumping from the float to the shallow water with a quiet splash they waded the last few feet to the beach the sand was coarse littered with broken shells and thick strands of dark seaweed the SOS was even more disturbing up close the stones were large the driftwood logs heavy it had taken time and desperation to build this Carter scanned the beach his gaze moving in short
precise arcs left right up to the treeline nothing no movement the island was eerily still the wind that had buffeted the plane at 1,000 feet was absent here blocked by the towering granite cliffs that ringed the small Cove Maverick however was already working he didn’t run he didn’t bark his nose was to the ground his plumed tail low and steady he ignored the SOS sign entirely moving past it toward the only break in the dense dark forest of spruce and pine a narrow opening that looked like a game trail
what do you got Mav Carter murmured Maverick moved forward his paws making no SoundOn the damp sand he reached the mouth of the trail and stopped he didn’t look back his entire body went rigid a low almost inaudible sound rumbled in his chest it was not a bark not a warning but a deep controlled growl Carter’s hand moved from his side to the grip of his handgun his thumb finding the strap he walked slowly closing the distance to the dog his eyes scanning the dark woods in front of them easy boy he reached Maverick’s side
and saw what the dog had found it was lying just to the side of the trail half hidden by a clump of tall wild grass and a patch of disturbed leaves as if someone had kicked it there by accident it was a hunting knife a large one with a dark composite handle and a wide blade the blade was caked in dark reddish brown it was not fresh not wet but it was not old either it was recent a few days maybe this was violence the switch in Carter’s mind was instantaneous the annoyance the reluctance the weariness all of it evaporated
the cold resignation was replaced by an even colder clarity the ghosts of his past the ones he flew to escape were not hindrances now they were his tools the soldier he had tried to bury took over his first thought was not of the victim his first thought was procedure threat assessment he did not touch the knife he did not step into the woods he looked at Maverick back he commanded his voice a low sharp whisper Maverick instantly obeyed backing away from the trail his eyes still fixed on the dark opening
Carter backed up with him his hand remaining on his weapon his gaze never leaving the tree line he moved quickly but not running back across the sand his boots crunching on the shells back to the water’s edge back to the plane he climbed onto the float Maverick jumping up beside him Carter slid into the cockpit his heart now hammering not with fear but with a sudden surging adrenaline this was a tactical situation and the first rule was communications he grabbed the com’s radio handset Mayday mayday mayday he said his voice level this is Cessna November 5
1 8 5 kilo on the coast of Moose Call Island I have found evidence of a violent encounter and a distress signal requesting immediate assistance he let go of the button the only reply was a loud empty hiss static he tried again Channel 16 the emergency frequency Mayday Mayday any station this is Cessna 8 5 kilo do you copy static his stomach tightened he flipped the switch for the main coms radio dialing in the frequency for the nearest Coast Guard station in Bar Harbor static just a wall of empty noise he grabbed the dry bag
his fingers fumbling for a moment with the clip he pulled out the satellite phone a heavy rugged piece of equipment he kept for emergencies just like this he flipped the cover and powered it on the screen lit up searching for network Carter held his breath watching the small icon the icon flashed then turned into a single stark message no signal he stared at it he moved the phone around the cockpit holding it up to the windscreen nothing the message remained no he whispered he understood with a sinking
sickening realization the island it wasn’t just a physical fortress the towering granite cliffs that surrounded the Cove the ones that blocked the wind were also blocking everything else they had formed a perfect cup a dead zone he was as cut off from the world as the person who had written SOS he sat back in his seat the silence of the cockpit once again pressing in he looked at the woods he looked at his silent radios he had two choices he could start the engine take off and fly back to the mainland it would take him 30 minutes to get high enough
to get a signal maybe an hour before he could get back with help an hour he thought of the blood on the knife an hour could be an eternity he thought of Adrian bleeding out in the dust and the helicopters that had arrived just five minutes too late or he could stay he looked at Maverick the dog was no longer looking at the trail he was looking at Carter his gaze was steady patient he was waiting waiting for the command waiting for his partner to make the choice he already knew he would make Carter scrubbed a hand over his face the rough stubble on his jaw scratching his palm the intrusion was no longer an annoyance
it was a duty a failed communication check a missing partner this was a mission whether he wanted it to be or not he let out a long slow exhale the resignation returned but this time it was different it was heavy but it was solid it was purpose all right Mav Carter said his voice quiet but firm he clipped the sat phone back to his belt its useless screen dark we’re on our own he picked up the dry bag stepped out onto the float and with his dog at his side waded back to the island Carter gave the command with a simple downward gesture of his left hand lead on Maverick
needing no other cue turned from the beach and entered the dark opening to the trail the dog moved in a way Carter had seen 1,000 times in training but never for real he was no longer a companion he was a tool a living sensor array he moved low his body a silent gray white shadow placing each paw with deliberate care his nose constantly testing the air his ears swiveling catching the slightest disturbance Carter followed his own movements an echo of the dog’s he fell into the rhythm that had been drilled into him
at Fort Bragg his boots which had crunched heavily on the beach’s shells were now silent on the soft pine needle covered earth he moved in a crouch his senses exploding outward the forest was dense far darker than the open beach the air was heavy damp and smelled of salt decaying pine and the sharp metallic Tang of the nearby ocean the silence was absolute there were no birds no squirrels the only sound was the faint distant rhythm of the waves lapping the shore behind them and the sound of his own controlled breathing he kept his eyes on Maverick
watching the subtle shifts in the dog’s body they moved inland perhaps 50 yards the trail was narrow hemmed in on both sides by thick walls of spruce and fir Carter felt the oppressive weight of the cliffs above him the same granite that had blocked his radio signal he was in a stone cup a trap Maverick stopped Carter stopped instantly his hand moving from his belt to the grip of his sig sour his body disappearing behind the trunk of a massive pine he waited Maverick didn’t growl he simply stood his head raised slightly
sniffing the air he took one more step then looked back at Carter a clear intelligent glance he was signaling Carter moved up flanking the dog he peered around the tree the forest opened up into a small natural clearing perhaps 30 feet across it was a pocket of human presence in the deep wild and it was wrong everything about it was wrong it was a campsite but it looked as if it had been struck by a sudden violent wind in the center was a small cold fire pit just a circle of stones filled with damp dark ash beside it
an aluminum kettle lay on its side a dark stain spreading into the dirt beneath it a small blue dome tent was set up near the back but it was partially collapsed the rain fly flapping loosely from one side it was the mess the scattering of personal items that told the story of panic a pair of women’s hiking boots high quality scuffed were kicked over near the tents entrance as if their owner had been pulled from them or had scrambled out in a desperate hurry a bright yellow rain poncho was snagged on a nearby bush
fluttering like a flag of surrender a single overturned enamel mug a waterproof bag its contents a map a compass a bag of trail mix spilled onto the ground it all screamed hastily abandoned clear Carter whispered more to himself than the dog he gave Maverick a signal for watch Maverick instantly understood the dog moved to the center of the clearing near the fire pit he did not sniff the ground he did not investigate the tent he faced the dark woods on the opposite side of the camp the direction they had not yet explored he stood perfectly still a gray and white Sentinel
his body tense his ears erect guarding Carter’s back Carter trusted the dog completely he holstered his weapon but kept his hand on the grip he began his own methodical search he moved to the tent the zipper was torn the fabric ripped away from the track he pulled the flap aside empty two sleeping bags were unrolled inside one blue one green a backpack was overturned its contents just like the ones outside it was a scene of sudden complete interruption he stepped back his eyes scanning the perimeter what had happened here the blood on the knife
had the person who used it come here or had they been taken from here his gaze fell on a log that had been dragged near the fire pit clearly used as a bench the yellow poncho he had seen snagged on the bush was partially draped over it something was underneath he lifted the damp slick fabric it was a book a journal bound in dark simple leather it was soaked through on one side the cover warped and stiff a simple leather strap held it closed Carter felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach this was the voice this was the answer he looked at Maverick the dog had not moved
he was a statue of perfect alert stillness Carter moved to the edge of the clearing settling against a large moss covered boulder the rock was cold and hard against his back but it gave him a solid position he could see the whole camp the trail they had come from and he could see Maverick he balanced his side arm on his knee his hand resting on it with his other hand he worked the stiff leather strap of the journal it came free with a small sucking sound he opened the book the first few pages were stiff the paper warped the ink
a dark blue had blurred in places from the damp but it was legible the handwriting was a strong clear feminine script the first page was just a name this journal belongs to Dolores Carter felt a jolt a name not just a sign not just a victim Dolores he skipped the first few entries they were dated written from Bar Harbor they were cheerful sailing with Evan the weather is perfect he’s so happy Carter’s thumb moved faster the pages making a soft damp ripping sound he was looking for the change and he found it the handwriting changed it was no longer neat it was rushed sprawling
the letters pressed hard into the paper storm came out of nowhere rogue wave the boat it’s gone Evan is hurt his leg we swam made it to a beach an island just rocks and trees we’re alive Carter read on his pulse a low drum in his ears he found the entry that mattered it was dated simply Day 3 Evan’s fever is concerning I cleaned the wound but it’s bad I’m scared but we did something good we finished the SOS sign on the beach used the big rocks from the cliff and all the heavy driftwood it’s big it has to be someone has to see it someone has to fly over please someone see it
Carter closed the journal his hand tightening on the cover Dolores Evan they were real he looked up from the page the desperate hope in her words hanging in the dead silent air of the camp he looked at the overturned kettle at the abandoned boots at the cold empty fire pit and then his gaze went to the trail he had just walked to the spot where the bloody knife had lain they had been alive they had been here hoping to be saved Carter looked at Maverick the dog was still watching the woods unblinking he knew what Carter now knew
they were not alone and the people who wrote this journal had not simply left Carter’s hand was numb from the cold he had been sitting against the boulder for several minutes the open journal in his lap the silence of the camp was a physical weight he looked up his eyes scanning the clearing Maverick had not moved the German Shepherd stood like a gray white statue near the cold fire pit his head and tail perfectly level his entire being focused on the dark opposing trail the dog’s discipline was a silent reassurance the only thing grounding Carter in the present
he looked back down at the journal Dolores her name felt heavy on his mind he had read the SOS entry but there were more pages he turned the damp warped paper the neat hopeful script of the first days began to fray Day 4 Evan is worse the fever won’t break I I did my best to clean the wound on his leg again the one from the boat but it’s angry red and angry he’s talking but not to me he’s talking about home I keep scanning the horizon nothing just water I have to stay strong he needs me Carter’s own breath felt thin he knew this he knew this kind of slow creeping dread it was worse than a firefight
it was the dread of the inevitable the slow decay of hope he turned the page day 6 I’m so tired the cold it gets in everywhere even the fire doesn’t seem to work right Evan didn’t eat this morning he just stares I read to him from the one book we saved but I don’t think he hears me I’m scared the SOS isn’t big enough what if they can’t see it what if no one comes Carter’s jaw tightened he found himself scanning the empty clearing as if looking for her a woman who was just a ghost on a page he saw the overturned boots near the tent
he imagined her sitting here in this exact spot writing these words her hands shaking from cold and fear he turned to the final page the change was a physical shock it was not the same handwriting this was not writing at all it was a wound on the paper a frantic scroll pressed so hard that the pen had torn through the page in places the ink was smeared as if by rain or tears he had to squint to make out the words Day 7 they saw it they saw the SOS a boat not Coast Guard just a boat washed up on the north side
looked like it was in trouble too two men they looked at us they looked cold Carter’s blood went from cold to ice his pulse which had been a low drum suddenly spiked the writing continued sprawling across the bottom of the page the last words jammed into the corner they left just left us here said they’d be back but the way they looked at Evan the way they looked at me they aren’t rescuers they aren’t rescuers oh god they’re coming back the last three words were barely legible Carter stared at them oh
coming back the world tilted the damp cold smell of the main forest was gone suddenly his nostrils were filled with the fine choking dust of the Kunar province the year was 2,011 it wasn’t a memory it was a sensation the sudden biting cold of a high desert night the oppressive silence before an operation the specific metallic taste of fear that every soldier knows the taste of adrenaline and stale water he was on overwatch lying on a ridge the world a blurry green through his night vision and he was waiting he was waiting for the enemy to move he was waiting for the trap to be sprung
it was the helplessness the same helplessness that bled from Dolores’s final words he remembered the radio static in his ear then the sudden chaotic burst of noise the sharp cracking sounds of rifle fire erupting from the valley below then Adrian’s voice young scared Carter they’re they’re everywhere we’re pinned I’m pinned Carter remembered his own voice screaming commands trying to get a location trying to direct fire but he was on the ridge 1,000 meters away he was too far he was helpless Adrian talk to me where are you silence then just a whisper over the hot mic
Carter I’m they’re coming back a final burst of gunfire then nothing just the ringing in his ears and the sound of his own ragged breath echoing in the vast cold dark they had found Adrian Four hours later Carter had been the one to carry him he had failed him he the team leader the protector had been helpless and Adrian had died for it Carter’s hand clenched his knuckles white the cheap leather cover of the journal groaned in his grip a sudden movement Carter’s head snapped up his hand flying to his sidearm pulling the weapon free in one smooth practiced motion
his heart was a jackhammer against his ribs Maverick the dog had not moved he was still standing watch a perfect unwavering Sentinel he had not sensed the ghosts he was focused on the present Carter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding the smell of pine and salt rushed back in he was in Maine he was on the island the dust of Afghanistan was gone but the feeling remained he looked down at the journal at the last terrified words he looked at the empty women’s boots by the tent Dolores Evan they were not strangers
they were not just a name on a page they were Adrian they were the mission he had failed the promise he had broken he had run to this empty coast flown his ritualistic patterns and surrounded himself with silence all to escape that one feeling the helplessness of that night in 2,011 now here it was again but this time it was different he was not on a ridge 1 thousand meters away he was here he was on the ground the people who wrote this journal the ones who were terrified of the men who were coming back they were his he holstered his weapon he carefully closed the journal
placing it with a tenderness he hadn’t known he possessed into the dry bag at his side it was no longer an intrusion it was no longer a complication it was personal he stood up his joints stiff from the cold rock he looked at Maverick the dog’s head turned his amber eyes meeting Carter’s Carter gave a single sharp nod the decision was made he would not be helpless he would not let another voice go silent he would not fail again Carter Hayes stood up the stiffness in his knees a dull distant ache the cold from the granite boulder had seeped into him but it was nothing compared to the ice water
clarity now flooding his veins the journal was secure in his dry bag its terrible frantic last words seared into his mind this was no longer a rescue mission it was a recovery and it was personal he looked at Maverick the dog was still holding his watch a perfect model of disciplined patience he had not moved from his spot his body a rigid line his gaze still fixed on the dark narrow trail that LED away from the opposite side of the clearing that was the direction the ripped tent flap the overturned boots they pointed to a violent panicked exit away from the beach
away from the trail they had used it was the direction Dolores must have fled or the direction they were taken Carter moved to Maverick’s side he didn’t speak he didn’t need to he placed his left hand on the dog’s harness a firm grounding pressure with his right hand he unholstered his sig sour the sound of the Kydex holster releasing the weapon a soft precise click he held the pistol in a low ready position his finger resting outside the trigger guard track he whispered it was the only word spoken Maverick’s entire body tensed for a brief second
acknowledging the command then he moved he did not bound he did not run he moved like a gray white shadow his nose low to the ground his paws making no SoundOn the carpet of pine needles he was following a scent invisible to Carter a trail of terror and desperation left hours or days before Carter moved behind him stepping where the dog stepped his senses dialed to a level he hadn’t touched in years the soldier was fully awake now the world was 180 degree arc of responsibility his eyes scanned the tree line his ears strained against the crushing silence listening for the snap of a twig
the scrape of a boot the metallic sound of a weapon being readied the silence of the island was no longer just eerie it was hostile it was a vacuum waiting for a sudden violent noise to fill it the trail here was not a trail it was just a path of least resistance through the dense undergrowth branches heavy with damp moss snagged at his leather jacket he pushed them aside his gaze never wavering he was focused on Maverick’s tail a steady downward curved plume as long as the tail was steady they were on the scent they moved for 10 minutes the campsite vanishing behind them
the sound of the ocean fading to a distant ghostly sigh they were deep in the island’s interior now a place of shadows and ancient silent trees Maverick stopped he didn’t just stop he froze midstride his left front paw raised his head locked in place his nose pointed at a spot just off the faint path Carter stopped instantly his heart a cold heavy weight in his chest he raised the pistol his eyes scanning the area Maverick was indicating he saw nothing just a tangle of ferns and a large spruce tree Maverick lowered his head a low anxious whine vibrating in his chest he took a hesitant step toward the spruce
then looked back at Carter his amber eyes wide what is it boy Carter murmured moving up to cover the dog he saw it it was not a natural feature at the base of the spruce tree there was a pile of dead branches and pine boughs layered over a heap of dry leaves it was wrong the branches were too fresh the breaks in the wood showing pale fresh wounds the leaves were dry scooped from a different part of the forest floor not belonging in this damp hollow it was a pile a deliberate hastily constructed pile about 3 feet long
Carter’s blood ran cold he had seen this before this was a cache or it was a grave Maverick whined again more insistently he moved to the edge of the pile and began to dig his front paws moving in a rapid scratching motion throwing leaves and dirt behind him he was not playing he was urgent this was the scent hold MAV Carter commanded his voice tight the dog’s urgency was a bad sign hold Maverick paused panting looking back at Carter I’ll do it Carter kept his pistol in his right hand aimed at the dark woods while he knelt with his left he reached forward pulling at the fresh cut pine boughs
they came away easily releasing a sharp clean scent of resin that did nothing to cover the smell underneath it was a damp earthy smell mixed with something else something coppery he tossed the branches aside underneath was the pile of dry leaves he swept them away with his forearm his leather sleeve catching on the twigs his gloved fingers brushed against fabric his breath caught he jammed his pistol back into its holster kneading both hands he dug his fingers into the damp earth beneath the leaves and pulled it was not a body he exhaled a sharp
sudden rush of air it was a piece of clothing he pulled it free from the shallow depression it was a man’s jacket a heavy dark wool jacket the kind a sailor or a fisherman would wear it was soaked through with damp and dirt but it was unmistakably a jacket and it was stained he laid it out on the ground a large dark stiff stain covered the entire left shoulder and spread across the chest there was no mistaking it even in the dim light of the forest he could see the dark oxidized color it was blood a lot of it
this was Evans this was the wound Dolores had written about this was the source of the blood on the knife Carter knelt staring at the jacket his mind a sudden cold engine of calculation he processed the scene and a new terrible understanding settled over him fact 1 the campsite was a scene of pure unadulterated panic overturned boots a ripped tent scattered gear it was the picture of a sudden chaotic attack fact 2 this jacket the primary evidence of that attack was not at the campsite it was here hundreds of yards away deliberately hidden
under a pile of freshly cut branches the two facts were a contradiction panic and concealment are opposites a panicked attacker a smuggler surprised and angry would have left the evidence they would have acted with brutality and left an animal would have dragged the body but you do not hide evidence in a panic you hide evidence when you have a plan you hide evidence when you are worried about someone else finding it you hide evidence when you are trying to control the narrative this wasn’t just an attack this wasn’t a crime of passion this was a calculated act of concealment
the men from the boat the ones Dolores was terrified of were not just brutal they were smart they were methodical they were still here and they were covering their tracks Carter stood up the bloody MUD cake jacket still in his hand he looked at Maverick the dog was no longer digging he was watching his partner waiting for the next command the game had changed this was not a rescue mission for a badly injured man this was an infiltration into hostile territory against an enemy who was thinking planning and waiting an enemy who was right now somewhere on this small
silent inescapable island with Dolores and Evan the light was failing it was not a gentle golden dusk but a cold grey leaching of colour from the world the sun had dipped behind the western cliff face of the island plunging the dense forest into a premature twilight the air grew heavy and cold the temperature dropping rapidly Carter knelt in the gloom the bloody wool jacket in his hands the coppery smell of old blood was sharp in the damp air he looked at the calculated concealment then at the darkening woods around him this was not a place to be at night
a tracker could work in the dark but a man walking into a planned ambush could not the rules had changed we’re going back he said his voice a low rumble he folded the jacket Evan’s jacket and tucked it inside his own against his chest it was a cold damp weight a tangible piece of the puzzle he would not leave it heal he commanded Maverick who had been patiently standing guard moved instantly to Carter’s left side his shoulder brushing Carter’s knee they began the trek back to the campsite a journey that felt
10 times longer than the one they had taken Carter moved with a focused silent intensity the forest was no longer a place to be investigated it was a place to be survived every shadow that pooled between the massive tree trunks was a potential hiding place every whisper of wind through the high pine boughs sounded like a man’s breathing his hand never left the grip of his pistol Maverick was a mirror of his own tension the dog’s body was coiled his head low his ears swiveling sampling the air he was a 90 pound predator and he was on high alert
it took them 20 minutes to reach the clearing and by then the world was a deep starless blue black the small camp was a pool of deeper shadows the ripped tent a ghostly flapping shape Carter’s first priority was security he could not return to the plane it was too exposed on the water this clearing with its single trail was a bad defensible position but it was all they had he gave Maverick a quiet command to take a watch post near the trail they had just left and the dog disappeared into the darkness
Carter meanwhile did a slow silent perimeter check he found a spot against the same mossy boulder he had sat at earlier it gave him a solid back and a clear view of the clearing and the two trails leading into it he sat the cold of the rock seeping through his jacket he was used to the cold he was used to the dark he was used to the waiting he listened the island’s oppressive silence had returned now filled with the tiny rustling sounds of the night he was cataloguing them sorting the natural from the unnatural
when Maverick reappeared the dog did not bark he simply materialized at Carter’s side a silent gray white shape he pressed his cold wet nose into Carter’s hand and then he growled it was not the controlled alert sound from the trail this was a deep chest vibrating throat tearing sound it was a threat Maverick was not looking at the trail they had come from he was staring at a dense patch of boulders and ferns on the far side of the clearing Carter’s hand was on his pistol he raised it pointing it into the darkness who’s there he commanded
his voice a low hard bark that was designed to intimidate to control at first there was only silence then a human sound a low painful groan stay back Mav Carter ordered Maverick whined his entire body quivering with a restrained violent energy but he held his position I said who is there Carter called out his voice louder show yourself hands first please the voice was a cracked desperate whisper please don’t shoot I I’m hurt a figure moved it was a man crawling dragging himself from the shadows of the rocks he was a dark shape pulling himself along the ground with his arms
his left leg dragging uselessly behind him he emerged into the faint residual light of the clearing his hands held up trembling please he panted help me he was a man in his early 40s his face pale and slick with sweat his eyes wide with what looked like terror he was wearing expensive torn sailing gear he saw Carter a large dark figure with a gun and his eyes widened further he flinched no no please did did they send you are they back Carter kept the pistol level Maverick was now standing his teeth bared the growl a constant menacing thrum
easy mav Carter said his voice firm the dog quieted but did not relax who are you Carter asked the man collapsed on to his side his breath hitching in a sob I’m I’m Evan my my wife Dolores we we were on the boat did you did you see her is she the name was a punch Evan it aligned perfectly with the Journal Carter’s mind raced trying to fit the pieces together the man was performing he had to be what happened Carter asked his voice still hard betraying no emotion them the men Evan gasped clutching his leg the other boat smugglers I
I don’t know they found us yesterday they they were animals his voice broke they oh they took Dolores she she tried to fight and they I think they killed her I think they killed her he was sobbing now a dry racking sound Carter’s face was a mask he believed none of it but the performance was good and you Carter pressed I tried the man choked out I tried to stop them one of them he had a knife he he stabbed me he gestured wildly at his leg I I ran I just I hid I’ve been in the rocks I heard you I thought
I thought you were them coming back to finish me please you have to help me Carter’s gaze was cold he was a soldier and this man was a potential asset a potential threat or a victim his training demanded he find out which and despite his certainty that this was a lie the memory of Adrian the one he hadn’t helped in time was a spur his duty for now was to treat the wounded Maverick watch he commanded he holstered his weapon the man flinched as Carter moved toward him but Carter ignored it he knelt pulling the dry bag around I have a first aid kit
thank you thank you the man Vincent whispered his eyes rolling Carter pulled out his shears I need to see the wound it it hurts Vincent moaned I’m cutting the pant leg Carter’s voice was flat the shears made a sharp ripping sound as they cut through the expensive blood soaked sailing pants Carter pulled the fabric away and he saw the wound it was bad a deep vicious gash on the man’s outer thigh it was a laceration just as he’d said it was not a gunshot it was a knife wound but it was the rest of the scene that screamed at Carter
the man was not bleeding out the blood flow was sluggish and around the wound there was a clear sharp line of demarcation in the caked blood the impression of a bandage that had been tied very tightly and for a long time the wound itself while deep had been partially cleaned Carter’s field experience his tactical medical training screamed at him this was not the wound of a man who had been stabbed ran and hid in terror this was not a wound that had been left to bleed out for the past 24 hours if it had the man would be dead from blood loss or in deep
hypovolemic shock this man was coherent he was articulate he was performing this wound had been dressed it had been bandaged hours ago and the man had only just now taken the bandage off or perhaps it had fallen off to make the scene more dramatic I I tried to to stop it Vincent moaned as if reading his mind I I used a piece of my shirt Carter’s eyes were cold he met the man’s gaze hold still he said this is going to sting he uncapped the bottle of antiseptic from his kit he didn’t just dab it he poured it directly into the open wound the man’s reaction was immediate and explosive
he let out a piercing shriek his entire body arching off the ground it was a genuine agonizing scream at that moment Carter knew two things for certain 1 the wound was absolutely real and agonizingly painful 2 the man was lying about everything else Carter looked up from his work across the clearing Maverick had not relaxed the dog stood his lips curled back in a silent unwavering snarl he was not looking at a victim he was looking at an enemy Vincent’s shriek had been genuine a raw sound of agony that had echoed off the granite cliffs and then vanished into the trees leaving the clearing in a stunned
ringing silence Carter pulled his hands back the antiseptic had done its job he worked quickly now his hands moving with a medic’s impersonal efficiency he packed the laceration with sterile gauze and wrapped it tightly with a pressure bandage from his kit the bleeding was controlled Vincent was panting his face pale and slick his eyes shut tight it it he gasped it’s done Carter said his voice flat he repacked his med kit the man was a liar the man was also in real undeniable pain the two facts existed
together a dangerous combination he couldn’t leave him here not because he trusted him but because he couldn’t leaving a wounded man in the dark even a lying one was a tactical liability a man in that much pain would make noise attract whatever else was on this island and Carter needed to watch him he was the only link the only piece of the puzzle that was still breathing can you walk Carter asked Vincent tried to push himself up but his face went ashen and he fell back with a groan no I can’t I can’t we’re moving to the campsite
it’s too exposed here Carter’s mind was working he needed an open observable space he needed to keep this man in his sight line we can use the tent for a windbreak it’ll be warmer it was a lie but it was a logical one Vincent nodded his teeth chattering whether from cold or shock Carter didn’t care getting him there was a brutal 10 minute ordeal Carter was not gentle he hauled Vincent to his feet the man’s arm draped over Carter’s shoulders Vincent tried to put weight on his good leg hopping and dragging his injured one his breath hissing through his teeth
with every small movement Maverick shadowed them a gray white ghost in the darkness his body low his suspicion a palpable force they reached the tattered clearing Carter deposited Vincent near the cold fire pit propping him against the same log Dolores had used as a bench stay here Carter ordered he didn’t wait for a reply he moved to his boulder his chosen overwatch position he needed a fire not for warmth but for light a small controlled tactical fire just enough to see by he used his knife and a magnesium stick shaving off small hot sparks into a ball of dry tinder he’d gathered
a small smokeless flame caught licked and grew the fire cast a small flickering circle of orange light pushing the oppressive absolute darkness back by a few feet it made the ripped tent and the scattered abandoned gear look like a stage set for a tragedy Carter sat his back against the solid rock his legs crossed his pistol resting on his thigh he was comfortable he had spent half his life in positions just like this cold tired and waiting for an enemy to move he tossed a foil wrapped m R E ration bar across the fire it landed softly in Vincent’s lap Vincent flinched startled
he looked down at the bar then at Carter I thank you eat Carter said it wasn’t a suggestion Vincent fumbled with the wrapper his hands shaking he took a small bite chewing with difficulty he looked from Carter a silent dark shape against the rock to Maverick the dog had not settled he was not lying down he was not sniffing the perimeter he was sitting he sat just at the edge of the firelight a perfect sphinx like silhouette his head up his ears forward his amber eyes reflecting the small flame and he was staring he was staring directly at Vincent Vincent trying to bridge the gap
trying to build the rapport of a fellow victim tore off a small piece of the ration bar he held it out his voice a coo here boy Vincent said good dog you hungry Maverick did not move he did not growl he did not even look at the food his gaze remained locked on Vincent’s face he’s a good boy right Vincent said his voice a strained pathetic attempt at friendship he tossed the piece of food it landed on the dirt in front of the dog Maverick’s reaction was absolute he did not sniff it he did not acknowledge it
he simply kept his eyes on Vincent as if the food and the man were beneath his notice after a moment he deliberately turned his head just slightly away from the offering it was a snub a profound animalistic gesture of pure contempt Vincent’s hand still outstretched slowly lowered he looked at the dog then at Carter Carter’s face was a shadow unreadable he he’s well trained Vincent said his voice small he quickly ate the rest of his bar the night dragged on the psychological battle was silent fought in the space of that small flickering fire
Carter did not sleep he knew how he would close his eyes for 5 10 seconds at a time a tactical rest but his senses remained sharp he let the silence do the work eventually Vincent couldn’t stand it this this island Vincent whispered his voice raspy it’s it’s a terrible place you you’re not from around here are you Carter stared into the fire he said nothing I just I can’t believe Dolores is gone Vincent continued his voice catching she was everything those those men they were monsters I hope I hope you find them I hope you Carter cut him off
his voice a low flat rumble not even looking at him you should get some rest we’ll move at first light he was not asking questions he was not engaging he was observing he was watching the man’s pupils in the firelight the cadence of his faked grief the way he clutched his very real wound for emphasis Vincent rebuffed eventually fell silent he leaned his head back against the log his breathing becoming shallow his eyes closing he let out a few theatrical pain filled moans before settling into a fitful shallow sleep his face turned toward the fire
but Carter knew he wasn’t asleep he was a predator just like Carter and he was just waiting and all through the long cold hours Maverick did not sleep the dog did not lie down he did not circle he sat upright a Sentinel of gray and white he was a living lie detector and he had not moved from his post he was a statue of judgment his gaze unwavering his breath a low steady huff in the cold he was guarding his partner the sky began to turn from black to a deep bruised purple the first cold light of dawn was minutes away
Vincent stirred Hebe sinaloa’s woke with a pained groan blinking his eyes as if coming out of a deep sleep he looked at the fire now just a pile of white ash and glowing embers he looked at Carter who sat in the same position as before and then he looked at Maverick the dog was still staring at him Vincent perhaps in a moment of frustration or perhaps one last desperate attempt to prove he was a harmless victim tried again good boy Vincent whispered his voice thick you’ve been watching all night good dog he slowly
theatrically reached out his hand palm up to pet the dog he extended his arm across the small dead fire pit Maverick’s reaction was the final unspoken word he did not growl he did not snap he did not even bare his teeth he simply stood up he rose to his feet with a silent fluid Grace he took three deliberate steps his claws making no SoundOn the hard packed earth he walked past the dead fire past Vincent’s outstretched trembling hand and he sat down he sat directly between Vincent and Carter he faced Vincent his body was a solid
living shield his shoulders broad his head high he did not look at Carter he did not need to the message was as clear as a gunshot you will not touch him you will not get to him I am between you and I am watching Vincent’s hand froze in midair he stared at the dog’s broad furry back the contempt was absolute a physical rejection he slowly very slowly pulled his hand back clenching it into a fist at his side Carter watched the entire exchange the fire had died and in the gray cold light of the new day
he could see Vincent’s face clearly for the first time the mask of the grieving victim was gone in its place just for a second was a flash of cold hard fury Carter’s training had told him the man was lying Maverick had just confirmed it the gray dawn light was cruel it offered no warmth only a stark unforgiving illumination that exposed the cold reality of the clearing the fire was a circle of white ash the tattered tent was a Monument to old terror and the man and the dog were a portrait of absolute distrust
Carter Hayes stood up the movement was a sharp cracking sound in the silence his joints stiff and protesting from a night spent sitting on cold stone he was a dark formidable shape in the new light his face a mask of weary resolve Vincent who had been feigning a pained fitful sleep opened his eyes his victim mask was back in place but it was thinner now his eyes though clouded with pretend exhaustion were sharp they darted from Carter to the dog and back what what time is it Vincent asked his voice a dry rasp is
is she Carter ignored the question he walked to the edge of the clearing and retrieved his dry bag I’m going to the plane he said his voice a low gravelly rumble that offered no room for conversation the plane Vincent struggled to sit up hissing as his injured leg took the movement is is it time are we leaving the morning air is different Carter said the lie coming easily denser sometimes the signal skips off the atmosphere better at dawn I’m going to try the radio again he let the lie hang in the air no signal no rescue this was a logic
Vincent’s character was forced to accept yes he said nodding the relief in his voice just a little too polished yes of course try the radio please we have to get we have to get off this this island I’m leaving you water Carter said he walked over and dropped a plastic bottle of water and one of his foil wrapped ration bars on the ground well out of Vincent’s reach forcing him to move for it don’t leave this clearing don’t light a fire don’t do anything it was a command not a piece of advice I won’t I can’t Vincent said gesturing to his heavily bandaged leg
I’ll be right here please just hurry Carter turned his leather jacket groaning softly in the cold Maverick heal the word was a release Maverick who had been a statue of contempt all night finally broke his stare he stood shook his entire body once a violent rattling sound of fur and muscle as if to shake off the man’s very presence he moved instantly to Carter’s left side his shoulder brushing his partner’s thigh Carter turned and walked out of the clearing down the path toward the beach he did not look back he did not need to he could feel Vincent’s eyes on his back
a hot calculating pressure and he could feel Maverick at his side a silent living radar his rear guard if Vincent had tried to move if a branch had so much as snapped behind them Maverick would have reacted before Carter’s brain even registered the sound they walked for 200 yards the path damp and soft underfoot the sounds of the camp fading replaced by the distant rhythmic sigh of the ocean then out of sight and earshot Carter stopped he stood for a full minute just breathing he had been in guard mode for 10 hours a static defensive posture now he needed to hunt he needed to find the truth
the one that was not sitting back in that clearing he needed to find Dolores and Evan he looked down Maverick was looking up at him his amber eyes bright intelligent and questioning he was waiting for the real command okay Mav Carter said his voice low he reached down and scrubbed the dog’s thick rough his gloved fingers digging into the fur no more games he stepped off the path into the dense dark woods pushing past a curtain of wet spruce branches he was no longer going to the beach that was a lie for a liar he pointed not in a specific direction
but into the vast unknown interior of the island find he said the command was everything it was not track it was not heal it was find find the missing find the danger find the scent that did not belong Maverick’s entire demeanor changed in an instant he was no longer a guard he was a hunter his nose dropped to the damp earth and he began to cast back and forth snorting pulling the air into his lungs tasting the complex map of the island he ignored the trail they had been on he ignored the scent of Carter he ignored the lingering sour sweat and fear smell of Vincent that had contaminated the camp
he was looking for something new and he found it his head snapped up he took a few quick steps to his right toward the spine of the granite ridge that formed the center of the island his nose went down his tail which had been low and cautious went straight out rigid he had it Maverick moved and Carter followed this was not a trail this was a brutal vertical climb Carter used his hands pulling himself up over moss slicked rocks and weaving through tangled ancient roots Maverick was a ghost moving with an effortless four legged drive efficiency
pausing every few yards to let his partner catch up his nose always working Carter was not an indoor man but the climb left him breathing heavily the cold air burning his lungs he was trusting the dog completely putting his life in Maverick’s paws they climbed for 15 minutes ascending the ridge as they got higher the wind changed the thick damp smell of the forest floor was peeled away by a sharp cold wind coming off the open ocean and it brought a new smell with it Carter caught it at the same time Maverick did
the dog stopped on a high ledge his nose high in the air sniffing confirming Carter smelled it too faint but undeniable it was not pine it was not salt it was not the organic decay of the forest it was a chemical bite acrid and poisoning it was the unmistakable greasy Tang of diesel fuel and underneath it just as the summary had suggested was the sour animal smell of old sweat and the faint stale odor of tobacco this was it this was the other boat the one from the journal the one Dolores had seen the one Vincent had not mentioned Maverick let out a single low woof
a sound of confirmation and urgency he was pulling now the scent strong in his nostrils they crested the ridge the wind up here was a physical force screaming past Carter’s ears whipping his hair from here he could see the ocean but it was not the calm gray water of his Cove this was the north side of the island a wild churning expanse of white capped waves Maverick was already moving leading him down a steep treacherous game trail his paws dislodging small stones that went rattling down into the abyss the sound of the ocean grew from a sigh to a roar
this was not the gentle lapping of the beach this was the harsh crashing sound of waves smashing against sheer rock they descended the smell of diesel now so strong it was almost nauseating the trail ended abruptly at a sheer 50 foot drop a narrow ledge of rock Carter stopped his hand grabbing Maverick’s harness to keep him from going over he looked down it was a different Cove a hidden Cove just as the summary had foretold it was a jagged black rock inlet a natural trap almost invisible from the sea
and down there tucked against the rocks listing to one side battered by the surf was a boat it was an old ugly motor yacht perhaps 40 feet long its paint scarred its engine silent it was the source of the diesel it was the lair the roar of the North Atlantic was a physical assault Carter Hayes lay flat on the granite ridge the wind tearing at his jacket his eyes watering from the cold and the sting of the salt spray fifty feet below in the jagged black rock Cove the battered motor yacht was a prisoner waves white and angry smashed against its hull
making the entire vessel groan and scrape against the rocks it was clearly grounded on Maverick was beside him his body pressed low to the stone his grey white fur whipped by the wind the dog’s ears were flat against his head but his nose was still working pulling in the overwhelming acrid smell of diesel fuel this was the lair Carter scanned the cliff face it was a sheer 50 foot drop but it was not smooth it was fractured ancient granite full of crevices and small ledges to his right a narrow chimney a deep crack in the rock looked like a treacherous but possible path down
this was not a choice he had to go MAV he shouted over the wind his voice snatched away he didn’t need to shout he pointed to the dog then to himself then to the path easy stay close the descent was a controlled fall Carter went first his boots finding impossible toe sized holds in the rock his gloved fingers numb and stiff gripped the cold wet stone he moved with a ranger’s economy testing every hold his body light his mind focused only on the next three feet Maverick was right behind him a four legged miracle of agility
the dog moved with instinctive animal Grace his claws finding purchase where Carter’s boots slipped his body low and balanced a piece of rock broke loose under Carter’s boot he slipped his body lurching but his left hand held a small cascade of pebbles went rattling down to the beach a sound completely swallowed by the crashing waves he froze his heart hammering but no one on the boat below reacted he regained his footing and continued it took five agonizing minutes but they reached the bottom the beach was not sand but a treacherous field of black algae
slicked stones the size of fists the motor yacht was 30 yards away it was old maybe from the 1980s its white and blue paint scarred and peeling it was beached hard its stern tilted up onto the rocks and it was not abandoned even over the roar of the surf Carter heard it a sharp metallic clinking sound it was followed by a loud muffled curse a growl of pure frustration Carter signaled Maverick a flat downward slicing motion of his hand quiet Maverick instantly froze sinking into the shadows of the cliff wall Carter moved his feet silent on the wet stones
timing his steps with the rhythmic crash and retreat of the waves he slipped from one large boulder to the next closing the distance he saw the source of the noise on the aft deck of the boat a large burly man in a stained grease covered jacket was hunched over the open engine compartment this was Sawyer he was holding a large wrench and he looked furious he hit the engine block with the side of the tool another loud clanging sound piece of junk Sawyer growled his voice a low bark that the wind carried to Carter
Sawyer was distracted he was angry he was focused on the engine this was the moment Carter was about to move to find a way to board when he froze again he heard another sound it was not the wind it was not Sawyer it was not the waves it was a low rhythmic thump thump thump it was muffled it was coming from inside the boat someone was kicking a bulkhead someone was alive the entire mission’s parameters snapped into a new sharp focus this was no longer just a hunt it was a hostage rescue and Carter Hayes knew with absolute certainty what to do he looked at Maverick
he gave the stay signal a simple open palmed gesture the dog did not move his body coiled like a spring his eyes locked on his partner Carter moved from the shadow of the rocks his pistol drawn but held low the waves covered his approach he reached the stern the boat rocked violently as a wave hit it the movement disorienting Sawyer cursed again bracing himself against the engine his back was to Carter Carter climbed onto the deck his boots made no sound he was three feet behind Sawyer he did not use the gun a shot would echo a signal of his presence he needed this man silent
he moved he dropped the gun back into its holster in one fluid brutal motion his left arm wrapped around Sawyer’s thick neck his forearm cinching tight against the man’s throat his right hand locked onto the back of Sawyer’s head completing the blood choke Sawyer’s reaction was immediate a huge panicked grunt his body arched his thick arms flailing dropping the heavy wrench with a loud metallic clatter onto the deck he kicked back but Carter had his balance his center of gravity low Sawyer’s hands clawed at Carter’s arm but the hold was perfect it was not about air it was about pressure 10 seconds
Sawyer’s struggles weakened 12 seconds his body went limp Carter held for three more seconds then gently eased the unconscious man to the deck he was alive but he was out Carter found a length of nylon rope in a deck locker and hog tied Sawyer’s hands and feet his movements quick his knots professional the thumping inside the cabin was frantic now they had heard the wrench fall Carter turned to the companionway hatch it was closed and it was padlocked a heavy brass lock from the outside he looked around Sawyer’s toolbox was open
he grabbed a short heavy crowbar he jammed it between the hasp and the wood put his full weight on it and wrenched the wood splintered with a sharp cracking sound and the lock tore free he ripped the door open the stench that rolled out was a physical blow a sickening mix of diesel saltwater mildew and human waste Maverick with me Carter commanded the dog was on the deck in a flash bounding down the dark steps ahead of him Carter followed his pistol drawn his tactical flashlight cutting a bright white beam into the darkness hello a woman’s voice screamed muffled
please help us the main cabin was a disaster tables and chairs overturned from the storm Maverick was already at a door in the forward bulkhead scratching at it frantically whining Carter didn’t hesitate he kicked the door it was flimsy wood and splintered open he shone the light inside and his blood ran cold they were huddled in the darkness of the small triangular V birth cowering from the light a man and a woman their mouths were sealed with duct tape their hands and feet were bound with zip ties the woman was Dolores her eyes wide and terrified
above the tape were the same eyes he had imagined when he read her journal the man beside her was Evan the real Evan he was pale his face slick with sweat his body shivering violently a high fever his leg was stretched out a crude bloody bandage wrapped around his calf I’m here to help Carter said his voice softer than he intended he holstered his pistol and pulled out his knife Maverick was already there pushing his head into Dolores’s bound hands whining licking the tears from her face Carter cut the tape from Dolores’s mouth first she gasped
a ragged desperate lung full of air then burst into sobs Evan my husband save Evan Carter sliced through her bonds then moved to Evan he cut the tape the man’s skin was burning hot he was barely conscious it’s okay Dolores was sobbing clinging to Carter’s arm it’s okay who are you did did you my name is Carter Hayes I saw your SOS I read your journal he cut Evan’s last bond we need to get you out of here the other man the one who was at your camp his name is Vincent the truth tumbled out of Dolores her words fast and frantic tripping over each other in a rush of terror and relief
yes Vincent their boat their boat crashed in the storm just like ours they they found us at the camp what did they want Carter asked his mind piecing it together they they had cargo she whispered her eyes wide bags dark heavy bags they wanted our supplies they wanted I don’t know Evan Evan himself whispered his voice a dry feverish rasp Evan fought he he tried to protect me he’s an engineer Dolores said grabbing her husband’s hand he’s strong he he fought back while Vincent was was hurting me Evan grabbed a a tool from his bag a a sharp metal file and he stabbed him
he stabbed Vincent in the leg right in the calf Carter froze the wound the laceration they were going to kill us Dolores cried her voice rising Sawyer the big one he had a rope they were they were tying us up and then then we heard it heard what Carter asked his voice tight your plane Evan whispered his eyes fluttering we heard your engine far away but we heard it and Vincent he just he stopped he looked up at the sky Dolores nodded her face a mask of horrified memory he looked at his leg at the blood then he looked at Sawyer he told Sawyer to hide them and keep them quiet
he said he said I have an idea that signal it’s not a trap it’s an opportunity and then he just ran he ran toward the beach toward your sound we we’ve been here ever since we thought we thought we were going to die here the entire sickening brilliant deception snapped into place the victim the performance the stab wound he’d gotten from the smugglers it was all a lie a masterful terrible improvisation built on a foundation of real agonizing pain and the man who had performed it Vincent was back at the camp armed waiting and now he would be wondering where Carter had gone
the air in the V birth was thick and toxic but Carter’s voice cut through the panic we have to move now Dolores was in shock her hands fluttering her sobs catching in her throat but Evan the real Evan though weak and burning with fever heard the command in Carter’s voice he was a survivor he nodded his eyes grim help me up Evan rasped Carter didn’t hesitate he pulled the man’s arm over his shoulder taking his full weight Maverick Point he commanded the dog was already up the steps a gray shadow in the dark companionway they emerged on to the deck the wind was still howling
the unconscious hog tied form of Sawyer was where Carter had left him Dolores gasped and flinched away but Carter just pulled Evan toward the cliff we climb he said the next 30 minutes were a nightmare of brutal vertical physics the 50 foot climb up the chimney which had been treacherous for Carter alone was nearly impossible with a wounded feverish man Carter was a machine he pushed Evan up onto a ledge then climbed past him reached down and hauled him up by his harness Dolores fueled by a terror that had burned away her shock scrambled ahead of them her fingers raw
her breath sobbing in the wind Maverick was the first one to the top and he immediately took a defensive position scanning their back trail his body low his ears pinned back against the wind when Carter finally hauled Evan over the lip of the ridge they all collapsed panting on the wind blasted granite we we can’t Dolores panted we can Carter said he stood his own legs shaking with exhaustion he looked back in the direction of the camp he knows he knows we’re not with him he’s coming that was all the motivation they needed
the journey back across the island’s spine was a desperate lurching race against time Evan was a dead weight but he was trying his feet dragging his body held up between Carter and Dolores Maverick ranged ahead then back a frantic silent perimeter his nose tasting the wind his eyes scanning the dense woods then they saw it through a break in the trees the placid gray water of the South Cove and floating on it a beautiful impossible sight the red and white Cessna they stumbled down the final path the one Carter had first taken they burst from the trees onto the small quiet beach
get him in Carter ordered it was an awkward clumsy process they waded through the shallow icy water Carter and Dolores maneuvered Evan onto the float then into the cabin laying him flat across the two rear seats Dolores scrambled in after him her hands immediately going to her husband’s face whispering his name Carter slid into the pilot’s seat Maverick leapt in beside him shaking the cold water from his fur Carter’s hand went to the ignition key but first he grabbed the radio handset he didn’t know why the dead zone
the cliffs it had been useless but he had to try mayday mayday mayday he said his voice low and urgent not expecting a reply this is Cessna November 5 1 8 5 Kilo at Moose Call Island South Cove a burst of static and then 8:05 kilo this is United States Coast Guard Bar Harbor Station I read you what is your situation the voice was a miracle it was calm professional and authoritative Carter felt a wave of relief so profound his knees almost buckled it had worked the atmosphere the time of day a simple act of Grace it didn’t matter
Bar Harbor this is 8 5 kilo Carter said his voice steady I have two rescued civilians one in critical condition with a fever and a leg wound I have two hostiles on the island one is secured on the north side the second the second is at large armed and dangerous understood 8 5 kilo the voice came back this is Commander Spencer we have a J Hawk helicopter spinning up right now can you provide a sit rep on the second hostile negative Bar Harbor he is the man who who faked the wait Carter’s words cut off Maverick the dog was not looking at Carter
he was not looking at the radio he was staring rigid at the beach at the dark opening of the trail a low vicious terrifying sound was vibrating from the dog’s chest a growl so deep it was almost felt rather than heard no Dolores whispered from the back her voice a thin thread of new terror a figure emerged from the woods it was Vincent he was a nightmare the mask of the victim was gone replaced by a contorted face of pure animalistic rage he was limping dragging his bandaged leg but he was moving with a terrible focused speed
in his right hand he held a dark snubnosed pistol you he screamed his voice a raw broken sound he was on the beach 20 yards away wading into the shallows you you left me he raised the pistol he was aiming at Carter a clear shot through the windscreen Carter’s own pistol was holstered trapped by his seat belt he was a sitting duck Carter Dolores screamed Vincent’s hand steadied he was taking aim Maverick Carter’s voice was low a single sharp command get him the dog did not need to be told twice he was a gray and white blur he launched from the co pilot seat over Carter’s lap
out the open door and onto the float in a single explosive movement he hit the water Vincent saw the attacking animal his aim wavered shifting from Carter to the dog a sharp flat crack echoed off the cliffs as the gun went off the bullet went wide striking the water in a harmless white splash Maverick didn’t even flinch he crossed the shallow water in three massive bounds Vincent tried to aim again but he was too late Maverick did not go for the gun arm he did not go for the throat he knew exactly what to do he slammed his 90 pound body at full speed
directly into Vincent’s injured left leg the sound was not a gunshot it was a heavy wet sickening sound followed by a high thin scream that was not human Vincent’s leg already torn and battered could not take the impact it buckled instantly Vincent collapsed into the shallows his body folding like a puppet the gun flying from his nerveless fingers and sinking into the gray water he landed in a heap clutching his leg his screams now just agonized animalistic sobs Maverick stood over him chest heaving teeth bared a low growl rolling from him he did not bite he did not need to
the threat was neutralized Carter was out of the plane his own gun in hand wading through the water he kicked Vincent’s pistol deeper into the MUD he looked at the man who was now just a pathetic broken thing whimpering in the surf then he heard it a deep thudding sound that was not his own engine a sound that grew louder beating against the cliffs a US Coast Guard Jayhawk helicopter painted bright orange and white appeared over the southern ridge it was fast it settled onto the small beach in a deafening whirlwind of sand and prop wash the side door slid open
medics and armed Coast Guard personnel deployed a man in a crisp uniform in his 50s with sharp intelligent eyes jumped down and strode toward Carter Commander Spencer he said not offering a hand just assessing Carter Hayes Carter replied holstering his weapon he’s the second hostile his partner Sawyer is on the north side in a beached motor yacht he’s incapacitated we’ll get him Spencer said his eyes went from Carter to the dog who was now calmly sitting at Carter’s side you did good work Mister Hayes
medics were already at the plane carefully easing Evan onto a stretcher Dolores climbed out her face a mask of tears and relief she ran to Carter and threw her arms around him her body shaking thank you she sobbed thank you Carter froze it was a contact he was not used to he awkwardly patted her on the back they’ll take care of you he said he and Maverick stepped back as the summary had promised they watched the medics work with efficient calm precision they watched them load Evan into the helicopter Dolores climbed in never letting go of her husband’s hand
she looked back at Carter her eyes saying more than her words ever could the helicopter lifted off its rotor wash tearing at Carter’s jacket the bad guys were secured by the remaining Coast Guard crew and then it was quiet the island was silent again save for the wind Carter stood on the beach the cold wind chilling his damp clothes he was alone again just him and his dog he had expected the old familiar hollowness to return the emptiness of a mission over the cold ache of his self imposed solitude but it didn’t come he watched the helicopter become a small black dot against the clearing sky
he thought of Dolores and Evan safe he thought of the journal he thought of Adrian this time he had been there this time he had not been helpless he was still alone here on this empty beach but for the first time in years the solitude didn’t feel heavy it didn’t feel like a punishment it just was Maverick nudged his cold wet nose into Carter’s hand Carter looked down at him let’s go home MAV he untied his plane he climbed in Maverick took his seat his fur already drying Carter started the engine the familiar deafening roar filled the cabin the shield he took off climbing out of the Cove
the gray green island shrinking behind him he banked the Cessna pointing its nose toward the mainland toward home he reached over and rested his hand on Maverick’s head the dog leaned into the touch a low contented sound in his chest the engine was still loud it was still a wall of sound but the silence inside Carter the one he had always been running from the one that had always been filled with the echoes of his past was different it was no longer an escape it was peace reclaimed the story of Carter and Maverick reminds us that true loyalty
the kind that never asks questions can be an anchor in the stormiest of seas it shows us that even when we feel lost in the echoes of the past a brave and faithful heart can guide us back to the present helping us find the peace we thought was gone if that bond resonates with you we invite you to become part of our community your support by subscribing liking and sharing this story allows us to keep these tales alive we would be truly honored to read your own reflections in the comments below and the journey doesn’t have to end here
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