Shadows at Sunset: Sunset Trilogy ~ Book 1 (3 page)

I stood up abruptly, tossing my blanket aside. Dakota sprang to his feet like a soldier ready for battle. His solid stance told me he knew we needed to find Ryder, and fast.

My eyes met Dakota’s knowing stare. “Come on, Dakota,” I said confidently, but softly enough that my parents wouldn’t hear me. “Let’s go find that little boy.”

Chapter 2

Adrenaline pumped through me as doubts crept into my mind. Would this really work? I knew I could make the animals understand that a little boy was lost, but how could they tell me where he was? I realized quickly that I couldn’t dwell on these doubts. I had to at least give it a shot. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try.

Still dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, I grabbed my hiking boots and a fleece-lined flannel jacket from the coat closet. Then I headed for the door that led to the garage, slowly opening it and cringing as it squeaked. I stopped for a moment, listening to make sure my parents didn’t wander out of their bedroom to see what I was doing. If they knew that I was about to attempt to find Ryder on my own, they would surely stop me. After all, they had no idea that I would have help. No doubt, they would think I was crazy. They would never believe that I could find a little boy lost in the dark when my father couldn’t find him in the daylight.

When I was sure that the coast was clear and my parents hadn’t heard the squeaky door, I flipped on the light and crept down the two steps into the musty-smelling garage. To my right, utility shelves lined the wall. The flashlights were exactly where I remembered, on the middle shelf closest to the door. I reached for two of them, one for a back-up, and tested them. They came on immediately, their lights beaming circles onto the garage wall. Then I turned them off, put the smaller one in my pocket, and carried the larger one.

I left the garage, tiptoeing back into the house as quietly as I could. Dakota was waiting for me at the back door. He turned his head to watch me, his eyes begging me to hurry up. I could tell he was eager to start the search.

“I’m coming. A little patience, please,” I whispered as I crossed the kitchen to the back door. Still expecting one of my parents to emerge and stop me, I inched it open. But no one showed up. This was it. Time to move out.

Dakota leaped through the doorway as soon as there was enough room for him to squeeze by. He bounded across the patio and down the steps before disappearing into the darkness. As soon as I stepped outside and closed the door behind me, I hurried to the edge of the yard, hugging my flannel jacket as I adjusted to the brisk chill in the air. I paused for a moment to glance up at the sky. The full silvery moon, pocketed with craters, had risen above the treetops, muting out the stars. Closing my eyes for a moment, I took a deep breath.
Please let me find the strength to do this,
I thought.
Ryder needs me. I may be his only chance.
My inner voice sent shivers up my spine. There was nothing like a little pressure at a time like this.

I opened my eyes, giving them a moment to adjust to the darkness. The night was particularly quiet for August. The crickets that usually chirped after the sun set were silent due to the cold, making it seem more like late September. An owl hooted in the distance, bringing my attention back to the matter at hand. I turned on the flashlight and set off into the forest.

“Dakota!” I called in a low whisper.

He trotted across the beam of light, his eyes glowing for a moment. Then he focused his attention on the woods, taking in every scent and sound as if looking for clues.

Another owl hooted, this time sounding much closer. I stopped and looked up straight in front of me. A gray, long-eared owl perched on a low branch of an oak tree. Its yellow eyes focused on me, not blinking. It seemed to know I needed help.

“Hello,” I whispered.

I thought I noticed the slightest nod of its head. I maintained eye contact with it as my thoughts did the talking. I had learned over the years that speaking out loud wasn’t necessary because the animals could read my thoughts. Once I realized that I could communicate silently, I felt silly speaking to them out loud, as if someone might hear me and think I was talking to myself.

‘
A little boy is lost somewhere out here. He’s small and alone. He means no harm, and I’m sure he’s cold and frightened. I need to find him. Please, if you see him, come back and lead me to him.
’

Understanding registered in the owl’s stern expression. After a deep hoot, it stretched out its large, strong wings and launched into the air, darting through the forest trees.

Dakota took off in the direction of the owl and I followed. It was an uphill climb. I aimed the flashlight beam at the ground so that I could maneuver over the rocky terrain. They didn’t call New Hampshire the granite state for nothing. Dakota circled back every few minutes to check on me, making sure I was still headed in the right direction.

After about fifteen minutes of hiking up the mountain, I stopped, leaning against a tree to catch my breath. Despite the plummeting temperatures, I was sweating under my jacket. A few owls hooted in the distance, as if talking to each other. Dakota returned to me again before trotting ahead, his black shape a shadow in the moonlight. Then he halted, listening, sniffing the air, concentrating. He stood motionless, focusing on clues that no human could sense.

Instead of continuing up the mountain, he turned and headed across the side of it. I followed, stumbling a little as I tried to balance on the uneven terrain. It took a few minutes, but I finally got the hang of walking lopsided. I lost sight of Dakota as he disappeared in the distance again, but I continued straight ahead, stepping carefully over the rocks, logs, and tree roots I watched for in the flashlight beam.

As I trudged ahead, still stumbling from time to time, doubts crept back into my head. What in the world had I been thinking? Did I really think I could find Ryder before he succumbed to hypothermia or a hungry wild animal? Although I knew many of the animals that lived here, I certainly didn’t know them all. And talking to them occasionally didn’t mean that they would know what to do with a little boy unless I specifically told them.

Lost deep in my concerns of all the possible outcomes, most of them less than desirable, I suddenly tripped over a tree root. My foot stuck to the ground and my body lurched forward. As I instinctively reached out to break my fall, the flashlight fell to the ground with a thud. My hands landed on a few rocks, scraping my cold palms. Before I could catch myself, my head struck the jagged corner of a small boulder. Searing pain shot through my skull. I could only imagine the black and blue mark this would leave.

I finally came to a stop on the ground. Breathing deeply, I shivered--not from the cold, but from the fear that I could have really been hurt. As I sat up, trembling, I brushed the dirt off my hands by rubbing them against my jeans. My shaking began to subside and I raised my hand to gingerly touch the throbbing side of my forehead along my hairline. It felt sticky and moist and I knew at once that I was bleeding.
Great,
I thought.
Ryder’s in big trouble if I’m the only one who can help him. I have to be more careful out here!
Not only was I worried about Ryder, but now I had to keep myself alive, which apparently was a lot harder than I had bargained for when I set out. I was very familiar with these mountains, but the time I had spent wandering through them had always been during the day. I couldn’t remember ever venturing out at night like this. And now I knew why. Under the cloak of darkness, every rock, log, and root posed a threat.

As soon as I composed myself, I scanned the sloping forest floor for my flashlight. Fortunately, it was still on and I caught sight of it resting against a large tree trunk, the beam of light a dim circle against the bark. It was downhill from me, and I crawled toward it. I didn’t trust my own two feet until I could use the flashlight to make out the tree roots and rocks. I grabbed it and spun the light around until I saw the boulder I had slammed into. My legs were still a little shaky as I stood and trudged up the hill. Reaching the rock, I sat on it to take a quick rest.

All this time, while I was nearly killing myself, Dakota had disappeared and I suddenly wasn’t sure where I was. I heard an owl in the distance and wondered if it was the same one I had seen when I had first set out. Then, without any warning, a tree branch behind me snapped under the weight of someone or something, and I jumped. Spinning around, I moved the flashlight beam into the eyes of a large black bear. It winced from the bright light as it let out a low growl.

I immediately angled the beam at the ground to avoid blinding the bear another second. I recognized it as a female I had encountered last summer. I remembered her by the distinct, jagged scar that ran along her brown muzzle. She had two cubs the last time I had seen her, and she had watched protectively as I played tug of war with them using a broken tree branch. She had trusted me like she would have no other human, but I remembered being cautious. One false move with those cubs, and she could have turned on me. It had been a humbling experience, testing my powers like that. But it had also been exhilarating and just plain fun.

She was alone tonight. Her growl faded, and I thought I saw recognition in her eyes. Good. If she remembered me from before, perhaps she’d be more receptive to my plea for help. I smiled. ‘
You’re probably wondering what I’m doing. There’s a little boy lost out here and I need help to find him. He’s alone and might not survive if I don’t find him soon. Can you please help?
’

The bear’s eyes met mine and I knew at once she understood. With a subtle nod of her head, she turned and lumbered off into the forest. The search party was growing, as was my hope that I could find Ryder and bring him home.

Still sitting on the boulder, I waved the flashlight beam around me, trying to remember which direction I had come from and which direction I had been heading when I fell. Exhaustion and fatigue were starting to set in as my adrenaline began to fade. The thought of giving up and turning back crossed my mind. My bed would feel wonderful right now. It was all I could do to stop those thoughts and persevere. I would not give up. Tomorrow could be too late for Ryder and I knew that these animals, the ones I had grown up with and come to love for years, wouldn’t let me down. I had to trust them like never before.

A black shadow darted toward me and I recognized Dakota’s amber eyes glowing in the moonlight. Just seeing him comforted me. I needed him, as I knew I couldn’t do this without him. He trotted up to me and nuzzled my hand. His nose took several quick tiny breaths as he picked up the scent of the blood on my forehead. ‘
I’m fine,
’
I thought. ‘
It’s just a little scratch. We have to keep moving. Please show me which way to go.
’

Despite the concern in his eyes, he turned back to the task at hand. He spun around and took off across the mountain. With a deep breath, I hauled myself to my feet and followed him. Only, this time, I was more careful to watch my step. I couldn’t afford to trip again, especially as the terrain became steeper. I couldn’t risk falling to the ground and tumbling down the mountain. Dakota didn’t get too far ahead this time. As soon as I lost sight of him, within a minute or two, he reappeared to keep me on the right track.

We started heading up the mountain again. My legs burned from the exertion, and I stopped frequently to catch my breath. On one of those stops, an owl landed on a branch in the tree I leaned against. It hooted again before taking off through the trees, the leaves rustling in its wake. Dakota shot off in the direction it went, and I ran after them.

Hours seemed to pass as I followed Dakota straight up the mountain. My eyelids became heavy with fatigue and my legs grew weaker with every step. I stopped to check my watch at one point. Ten minutes past midnight. It had been nearly two hours since I had left the house. I was beginning to wonder how a three-year-old had covered this much ground since the afternoon.

When we finally reached the peak, the terrain leveled out and we continued across the top. We had gone too far to be near the areas that I visited frequently. I generally went straight behind my house to where the stream ran in between the mountains. I hoped Ryder wasn’t much farther away. We still had to get home, but at least that would be downhill.

I followed Dakota through a patch of pine trees. The needles brushed against my arms as I slipped between the branches. Fallen logs crossed our path, and Dakota leaped over them, stopping for a few seconds on the other side to wait while I carefully stepped over them. The underbrush was much thicker here. I crept through bushes and pushed low-lying branches, from my waist to my head, out of the way. Then, suddenly, the underbrush and forest gave way to a clearing. The moon glowed brightly overhead, now visible from the opening in the trees. As I shined the flashlight across the open space, Dakota halted and an owl hooted from a nearby tree. Dakota’s attention was focused on a black shape at the center of the clearing.

He turned back to look at me, his expression satisfied now that he had accomplished his mission. I hurried past him to the big black shadow straight ahead. As I got closer, it moved and I realized it was the black bear I had seen earlier. She rose from where she had been laying and stepped to the side, revealing the still body of a little boy curled in a fetal position. As my father had mentioned earlier, he wore shorts and a T-shirt. One of his toddler shoes was missing.