Devil's Gold (24 page)

She smiled and led the way back to the observation post. “Raphael's pretty.”

Jake grunted and mumbled beneath his breath. He passed her, scanning the woods as they went. “You can bet I won't be calling you Annie Oakley.”

Cassidy smothered her laughter and pushed at his back. “Hurry up. If we can settle things down, we still have a chance at a dawn sighting.”

“I have to call this in.” He twisted and grabbed her hand, pulling her around a narrow ledge. “I'm certain being shot at in the middle of nowhere isn't constituted as normal behavior in Yellowstone.”

“It was probably just some poacher.”

“Nice try at avoidance. We need to call the rangers, Sunshine. That guy aimed at us.”

She stopped and tugged back on his hand. A sweet, acrid scent assaulted her nose. She fought against the reflex to gag. “What do you smell?”

“You mean besides myself?”

“Yes,” her voice dropped to a low tone.

“Blood,” he said. “I smell blood.”

“Me too,” she answered. “Move slowly and look carefully; maybe we'll find the target of that bullet. That should help explain what the hell he was doing up here.”

Jake smiled tightly and turned his attention to the woods. She followed as he patrolled the area, searching for the source of the smell that had her nostrils twitching and sixth sense screaming.

Jake and Cassidy silently worked their way back up the path toward Post 26. The stench continued to attack their senses, but no source could be located. He stepped into the clearing surrounding the observation platform and halted at the horror that was painted before him.

He spun around, trying to locate Cassidy. He wanted to block her from the gruesome spectacle, but it was too late. Cassidy stood with arms hanging loosely by her side, staring at the clearing. She swayed slightly, and Jake lunged to catch her before she crumbled to the ground. Her eyes bright with pain, she stared up at him. “What would cause such a thing?” She whispered through a voice thick with unshed tears.

Jake didn't have an answer and just shook his head slowly. “Stay here,” he commanded. “I need to check the site and call it in.”

He left her leaning against a tree. He could see that her mind struggled to comprehend the monster behind whatever had twisted Post 26 into a blood-splattered spectacle of gore. His thoughts, however, were more concentrated on Cassidy's safety. He scanned the area, looking for moving shadows and listening for telltale signs of human habitation. Nothing. The night was ghostly quiet and unnervingly empty of life.

N
ICK
F
OWLER RAN THROUGH THE WOODS
. B
RANCHES CLAWED
his clothes, digging their skeleton fingers into his sweater. He swatted at the ones intent on holding him back. The moon glittered through the canopy of leaves, allowing him to see the twisted path down the mountain. His chest felt like an exploding volcano, each breath a stream of lava that seared his lungs. He skidded on a slick rock and smacked his palm on a tree to slow his forward motion.

Damn wolf.

Gasping for air, he stopped and rested his aching side. He didn't consider himself a man of fear. A shiver of revulsion shook his shoulders at the memory of the wolf that had charged him, eyes wild with pain, and blood dripping from its fangs. And the face.
Fuck
. That was enough to guarantee several lifetimes of nightmares. He knew all about CPV-19. The image of the female he'd found the night before while monitoring Blondie flashed through his mind.

He'd tossed his cigarette down and run. Away from the body. Away from the disease.

Tonight's knee-jerk reaction was to shoot the fucker, which is exactly what he did.

Then he'd heard Anderson and Blondie race toward him and his casual observation duty of their assignment went south.

Nick tilted his head back and banged it lightly against the trunk of a pine tree. It didn't matter which way you pointed the knife, he'd about gutted himself tonight.

If he'd been caught or injured, Cole would've eliminated him with a nice clean bullet to the brain. On the other stinking hand, he couldn't kill Anderson and Blondie without experiencing the exact same repercussions. He'd been lucky, and Nick didn't believe in luck.

Nick's cell phone rang. He snatched the phone off its belt clip. “Yeah.”

“What the hell happened tonight?”

Resting his palm on the trunk of a tree, he inhaled several deep breaths. “A wolf almost ran right over me. I shot it. The shot alerted my targets, and I got the hell outta there. What the fuck's your problem?”

“My problem”—the voice dropped down an octave—“is that the report that came over the radio indicated multiple dead wolves. I'm on my way to check it out. For your sake, you'd better not have left behind evidence. Fowler, I know I don't need to explain to you that we're close to firing off all the ducks we have in a row. Don't screw it up.”

Rolling his eyes, Nick pumped his fist up and down.
What a real jerk-off!
“No. I didn't leave any evidence. The wolves were all infected. A stray one caught my scent and went ballistic. I tossed him onto the heap with the other dead.” A shiver ran up Nick's spine. “Jesus, that stuff is bad.”

A soft chuckle filtered through the satellite connection. “No shit.”

Nick sniffed and ran his hand under his nose. His eyes widened. “How contagious are those wolves?”

Edward drove through the remote hills of the Wasachi Range. He'd been on the road since early evening. After cashing a large check at his local bank, he'd bought a used car, packed all his gear, and driven straight through Yellowstone National Park and past Jackson, Wyoming, into Idaho.

Thinking like a criminal afforded Edward a mental challenge. He relished it.
Don't use credit cards. Don't leave behind anything that will attract attention
. Enough cash remained to purchase several plane tickets out of Salt Lake City and all additional supplies he might require.

Edward crested a bend and noticed a soft glow of city lights below. Civilization. He pulled the car off to the side of the road and snapped open his cell phone. It finally showed reception. Another phone lay on the passenger seat. It was a pay-as-you-go he'd recently purchased in Gardiner. This call, however, he wanted the board to know about.

Dialing the number to his New York attorney's home, he waited as the phone rang on the other end. Finally a voice husky with sleep filtered across the line. “Hello?” Edward began the first step to masking his whereabouts.

Step One: Mislead the enemy
.

Finished with his conversation, Edward closed the phone and yawned. Tired of the dim lights in his car, he decided to finish the rest of his plan once he reached Salt Lake City. This was enough information to mull over for the next sixty miles.

He stared out the car window. The top of the ridge was flat and treeless, with the road curving downward toward the soft shimmer of city lights. Could it be this easy?

Step Two: Reach your destination
.

A flicker of doubt caused his heart to jump. He needed to devise a way of explaining the release of CPV-19 into Yellowstone without becoming a suspect.

He needed to shine as savior, not madman.

This would be a challenge. Pulling onto the road, Edward began to mentally distill and ferment his plans.

Step Three: Achieve success
.

C
ASSIDY KNELT DOWN, HER KNEES SINKING INTO THE DEW
dampened leaves. A soft thud drew her attention to the ground behind her. Jake had tossed over her gear bag, and she quickly slipped the zipper open and reached inside, searching for a pair of latex gloves and protective mask. Snapping the gloves and blue cotton nose and mouth cover into place, Cassidy concentrated on the wolves.

She extended her hand and stroked the fur of a dead wolf. Trailing a finger along the edge of the wolf's jaw line, she bent down and peered at the snout. She sighed and attempted to see beyond the horrendous suffering that shadowed the once peaceful clearing. There appeared to be a half dozen dead. Puddles of congealed blood darkened numerous patches of earth.

“I've found our bullet.” Jake walked over and pulled her away from the body. “I don't think it killed the wolf, though.” He frowned, and his eyes were troubled above the rim of his own protective mask.

Cassidy shook her head. “Let me guess: loss of blood?”

“Yeah. From everywhere. Its mouth and rear.”

They walked to the edge of the clearing, ripping off their masks and discarding the plastic gloves. “We need to leave this undisturbed until we can mark the perimeter and photograph everything.” She turned toward Jake, switching the subject back to the wolf. “Eyes and ears bloody as well?”

“Yeah …” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair.

Cassidy narrowed her eyes and challenged him with a direct stare. “Snout?” Jake glanced at the full moon, then back down at her. She attempted to remain serious but burst out laughing when he lifted one brow and opened his eyes wide.

“I'm not saying anything that will incriminate me.”

Shaking her head, she pointed at a couple of the dead bodies. “That one and that one have elongated snouts and a protruding lower jaw line.”

“Werewolves aren't in your theory, are they?”

Cassidy's immediate response was to offer an emphatic “no” but she paused, worrying her bottom lip, allowing some unconventional thoughts to drift through her mind. “Not in the sense you're talking about.”

Jake nodded. “I've never witnessed anything like it.”

Cassidy frowned, trying to concentrate on what was tugging at her brain. It slipped away, and she shook her head in annoyance. “Me neither. And I thought I'd seen it all.” She leaned against a tree, picking absently at the bark. “Did you verify that Ethan is providing transport for the pod?”

“They're on their way. And bringing extra lights.”

“Good. We're going to need them.” She stared at the remains of the wolves. They lay randomly among the clearing, their bodies sprawled upon the dirt and leaves. “What the hell caused this?” She gazed from wolf to wolf. “It's as if they died within seconds of one another. How's that possible?”

“I don't know.” Jake said, his voice trailing to a whisper.

Cassidy glanced at him. “What're you thinking?” He crouched down, balancing his elbows on his knees. She watched him scrutinize the scene. “If you're not careful, your brain will catch fire.”

Jake sighed. “This is familiar.”

That caught her attention. “How?”

He glanced up at her. “The woman we found yesterday, she bled like this.” He stood and waved his arm. “It was every where, remember? I found her because there was a cigarette floating in a pool of blood.”

Cassidy's mind churned his words. “It was floating?”

Jake pierced her with an intense gaze. “Why didn't the blood seep into the ground?”

Alarm bells rang along every nerve, making her ears buzz and fingers tingle. She turned and walked back toward the wolves. Snapping a twig off a low-hanging branch and holding the hem of her shirt over her nose, Cassidy shoved it into one of the blood stains. It wasn't coagulated, as she'd initially thought… it was thick like oil.

She swore at her own stupidity. Cassidy grabbed Jake's arm and pushed him out of the observation area. She flipped open her phone and dialed headquarters, speaking rapidly to the person on the other end. The rhythmic thumping of helicopter blades chimed in the distance. “Come on.” She ran through the woods toward the designated landing zone.

“What's going on?”

She glanced over her shoulder. Jake was right on her heels. “I called the CDC.” Cassidy spotted the helicopter as it crested the small rise. “We need to make sure everyone is in full decontamination suits before entering the site.” She ran faster and broke into the clearing as the rungs of the first chopper touched ground.