Дэвид Балдаччи - Long Road to Mercy

“You heard about that?”

“This is not exactly New York City. Now, a missing person around here is not so rare, but a cut-up mule is something different.”

“Like I said, I’m just going down to chill out.”

“When are you planning to leave?” asked Yazzie.

“Tonight.”

“You just got back. It’s been a long trip. We can grab some dinner tonight and you can relax before heading out.”

“I don’t think I have time to relax, Jen.”

Later that day, Pine sat on a couch in the basement in the Yazzies’ home in Tuba City.

She had seen on the news feed that the Southwest Chief had encountered signal problems, which had necessitated the abrupt stop. There had been some electrical problems and a few bumps and bruises with passengers and crew, but no serious injuries. Freight trains used the same set of tracks, and care had to be taken because the signaling system was critical in making sure one train did not slam into another. There had been no mention of the shattered window.

But a body had been discovered near the tracks, the news had reported. No identification had been made.

Pine doubted one ever would be. But at least Sung Nam Chung was certifiably dead.

She had the borrowed gear all together and had gone over her checklist, which was about eighty items long. These included good hiking shoes with support and traction soles, trekking poles, a battery-powered headlamp, a wide-brimmed hat and sunscreen, a first aid kit, salty food, a whistle and signal mirror, something to sleep in, and a lightweight tarp, plus layers of clothing. She would also be taking a refillable hydration bladder with a flow system activated by biting down on the mouthpiece. And all that would weigh less than twenty-five pounds.

And, of course, she had her twin pistols. They were additional weight, but Pine figured they might be the most important items she carried with her.

If she wanted to get back alive.

Blum, who was staying upstairs in the spare bedroom, came down and joined her on the couch. She looked over the equipment. “What route will you take down?”

“Either Bright Angel or South Kaibab — I haven’t decided yet.”

“Have you figured out the location from the latitude and longitude?”

“As close as I could. I can’t pinpoint it exactly from that.”

“Which is even more reason for you not to go alone.”

“I can’t exactly call in a regiment of FBI agents, Carol. In fact, I can’t call anybody in, considering our own government apparently is in this up to their eyeballs somehow.”

“I could—” she began.

“No, Carol, you couldn’t.”

Blum looked away. “What happened on the train,” she began.

“You saved my life. No way I’m beating that guy without you there.”

“It was only fair, since I endangered your life by letting him capture me.”

“I think you can be excused for not taking him out all by yourself.”

“At least we were able to find that little girl’s mom.”

“Yeah, she was really scared. Little kids need their parents.”

“Yes, they do,” said Blum, looking at Pine, but she kept her gaze on the floor. She cleared her throat. “If there is a nuke down there? What are you going to do?”

“Hopefully, I can find David Roth and he can help me disarm it.”

“He’s been missing for a while now. He might be dead.”

“He might be. But I still have to try.”

“You realize that there are others out there besides the late Sung Nam Chung who want to find Roth.”

“I’m aware of that, Carol.”

“And they might have come to the same conclusion as you have. That he might still be in the Canyon.”

“Which means I might have some company down there,” said Pine.

Ooh Aah Point.

The remarkable views from here had obviously been the genesis for the name.

Pine had traveled nearly a mile on the South Kaibab Trail and while doing so had descended about six hundred feet below the South Rim, which stood at about 7,200 feet above sea level. The Rim had been cool and pine scented. That would change dramatically the farther down she trekked. The South Rim averaged nearly sixty inches of snow a year, while Phantom Ranch received less than one.

Jennifer Yazzie had dropped her off at the trailhead.

“Joe called before we left,” she said as Pine was getting her gear out.

“You didn’t tell him—”

“No. But he did tell me something you might want to know.”

“What’s that?” said Pine as she strapped on her backpack.

“Joe said some feds have been poking around.”

“For what?”

“They were asking about you.”

“What agency?”

“That’s the thing. It wasn’t clear.”

“How could it not be clear? Didn’t they badge Joe and show him their creds?”

“Apparently not. And so he didn’t tell them anything.” She paused and smiled. “Not that he would have anyway, without checking with you.”

“Tell him thanks for me.” Pine slid out her trekking poles. “Anything else?”

“A military chopper landed at the Canyon airport earlier today. Joe heard about it from one of the rangers.”

“Unusual activity.”

“You don’t seem surprised,” replied Yazzie.

“That’s because I’m not.”

“If you’re in some sort of trouble—”

“Let’s just say I’m off the grid right now. And people you thought should be your allies, aren’t.”

Yazzie looked deeply concerned by this comment. “Look, Atlee, I don’t know what’s going on, but if you can get cell reception down there, call us if you need help.”

“You’ve done enough, Jen.”

“You’ve been a real friend to the community and, well, we care about you.”

Pine had given Yazzie a hug. “I’ll see you soon,” she had said, hoping that it would indeed be true. Right now, she would not have bet on herself.

As Yazzie’s truck lights had disappeared into the dark, Pine had turned around, faced the trailhead, and set off.

Normally, those not seeking to go all the way to the Canyon floor would hike down the Kaibab, cross over to the west on the Tonto Trail to Indian Garden, and then head back up the Bright Angel to the South Rim. Because of the rule of thumb that an hour hiking down meant two hours hiking back up, Kaibab was a good choice for the descent phase. It had no shade and no potable water except at the trailhead. After the Tonto Trail and the turn onto Bright Angel, one could take a rest at the shady Indian Garden, drink some water, and continue the steep ascent back to the rim. There were also two additional rest houses on the way up.

Only shade wasn’t an issue right now, since it was nearly midnight. And Tonto Trail wasn’t an option, because Pine was going all the way down to the floor. She had picked this time of night because there might well be no other hikers. She had passed by no one so far going up or down. This included park rangers. That was good, because for all she knew, they had been instructed to detain her if they encountered her.

It was about seven miles on this trail to Bright Angel Campground near Phantom Ranch. The nearby Bright Angel Trail was more than nine miles down to the same destination. Yet because of the topography and other conditions, hikes down both trails would take between four and five hours.

Setting an ambitious pace, Pine intended to make it down in about three. Under other circumstances, she would not have attempted this sort of pace at night, since, like all trails going down into the Canyon, the Kaibab was full of switchbacks, narrow curves, and turns. And although well maintained, the Kaibab trail was hardly smooth. The last thing she wanted was to make a false step and go hurtling over the edge. But she knew the Kaibab well, and she was keeping to the inside of the trail. Hikers coming up had the right of way and she would have to move to the edge to let them pass, but, so far, it was just her.