Cassie Miles - State Of Emergency

Jordan’s attention returned to the map. “Pretty soon, it’s going to be too dark for the helicopters to search. We need to stay far away from the roads.” He pointed to a small black rectangle that didn’t seem too far from their location. “What does this represent?”

“A warming hut for hikers and cross-country skiers.”

“Warming hut?”

She explained, “It’s a small cabin that people can use if they get stuck in bad weather. It may be a good place for us to spend the night.”

His eyes narrowed. “It also might be the first place for searchers to look. The sheriff’s department has maps like this, don’t they?”

She nodded but didn’t offer any advice. When it came to the bottom line, Emily didn’t want to aid in his escape. Jordan’s guilt or innocence was for the courts to decide.

To ensure somebody figured out that he’d taken her and Pookie with him, she’d left a trail from her cabin that a blind man could follow. At every opportunity, she’d broken branches off trees and trampled shrubs as well as dropping shreds of tissue and all the change from her pockets.

“It’s going to get cold tonight,” Jordan said, watching her for a reaction. “And I don’t have a jacket.”

Her recommendation would be to risk staying in the shelter of the warming hut and avoid the potential danger of hypothermia. But she said nothing.

“I need a good night’s sleep,” he said. “And time to recover from my injuries.”

Again, he assumed correctly.

Jordan asked, “How far to the warming hut?”

“A few hours if we stay under the trees. Less time if we step out in the open.”

“With your bright red backpack marking our location like a signal flare,” he said bitterly. “It’s a chance I’ll have to take. We’ll go by the most direct route.”

He tucked away the maps, rose to his feet and shouldered his backpack, flinching slightly as the strap brushed his wounded arm. His ability to endure painful injuries without a single complaint was impressive, but Emily refused to acknowledge any positive attribute in Jordan Shane. She didn’t want to like him and certainly wouldn’t help him.

He led the way from the aspen grove into a wide-open field of dried buffalo grass and weeds. With virtually no cover, they’d be visible from half a mile away. If there were search parties in the area, they’d be spotted.

Apparently, Jordan had realized the same probability because he came to a halt. He threw an arm in front of her. “Don’t move.”

Emily looked down. Three feet away, a snake slithered off a sun-warmed rock at the edge of the path. A snake! Adrenaline shot through her veins. God, she hated snakes! Oh God!

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