scraped lichen… I could see why the guys lost the trail, but it wasn’t hopeless. I pictured myself being chased up this canyon, looking in desperation at the rocks before me. It was a puzzle so I fiddled with the pieces until something clicked. Okay, I thought, if it was me I’d run straight for that crack, chimney climb it to the top and take off running. I walked up to the crack and began my ascent. Maybe there would be tracks at the top. I was nearly to the top when Landon noticed that I was climbing and rushed to the bottom of the rock.
“Cassidy, what are you doing?”
“I’m taking the easiest route. The guys we are after didn’t have ropes so they climbed out of here without them. If I find the trail up here I’ll let you know.”
I finished climbing the crack and paused, knees locked at the top to get a look at where the men would have come out. Bingo. I didn’t see tracks but I saw definite marks that looked like a person had scrambled up the loose dirt at the top. I looked down and spotted loose dirt on the rocks below. I was sure I could pick up a trail somewhere around the top of the canyon. I climbed over the top and found the first set of tracks. The gravely soil up here didn’t help at all. I looked closer. Damn. I cast around in a broad arc around the top of the rock. Oh damn it again. I could only find one set of tracks up here. I started around the side of the top of the canyon finding a spot where the other guy could have come up. I didn’t find any sign so I tried the other direction examining closely the dirt around the top of the canyon. No sign. These guys hadn’t tried to hide their tracks before so I doubted they would start now. Nope, only one guy had made it over the top. Should I follow him? Should I concentrate on the more present danger? I was just lowering myself into the crack to rejoin the group and get some advice when I saw a slight motion to the side of the canyon. I stayed up top, eyes glued to the spot. I didn’t know what to do, I needed some advice but Jacobsen would be put in line for a bullet if I asked him to climb up to me. And if I climbed down I could lose my visual.
“Jacobsen, 10-66, eight o’clock,” I called out. Suspicious person behind you at eight o’clock. I saw them all freeze and find Jacobsen’s eight o’clock. I had a clean view of everybody from up there. I felt the gun on my belt. Could I shoot the guy if I needed to? I knew I could hit him, but could I bring myself to shoot him? Shit yeah, I could do it. If I had to protect my team, I could do it. Please, I thought, please be unarmed. I found cover and aimed my gun at the suspect, ready in case I was needed. Jacobsen hadn’t spotted him yet. I saw the guy get up like he was going to run but he fell almost immediately. My mind was working a mile a minute piecing together his actions. Then I realized the guy was hurt and hiding out in the brush. He couldn’t climb the rocks and had been left behind. If he had been abandoned in the chase and was armed, he would be forced to shoot. No, I thought, please don’t! I changed my hiding place to keep the guy in sight. Jacobsen noted my movement and followed my line of site, down my arm, down the barrel of my pistol and down to the floor of the canyon. There was brush between the team and the suspect. They fanned out, surrounding the area. The suspect backed away, a desperate look in his eye. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gray object. My vision narrowed to the object. Gun? Nope. If I didn’t know better I’d say that thing looked an awful lot like a hand grenade. What would a civilian be doing with a hand grenade? And what kind was it? There were all kinds of hand grenades these days. Teargas, stun grenades, explosive devices that sent shrapnel flying in every direction… He reached for the pin and instinct took over. I pulled the trigger and felt the gun jump in my hands. I saw the suspect jerk upwards and then fall backwards.
“Get back! Hit the dirt!” I yelled. I hit the dirt too. If the guy was going to blow himself up I sure as hell didn’t want to watch. After several seconds an explosion rocked the mountain and caused a couple of small rock slides around the little canyon.
After the noise subsided, the team stood warily. A stark silence told us our suspect was no longer a danger. Victor Gomez and Mike Townsend cautiously parted the branches and Victor signaled to the others that it was safe to move about.
“Cassidy, are you okay?” Landon called up the cliff.
“Yeah,” I replied, “I’m okay.”
“Get down here!” barked Jacobsen.
I lowered myself into the crack and worked my way back down.
“Discharging your firearm without permission?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I replied, “I’m glad you get to write it up. I didn’t want to have to do it for you.” A short pause. I really needed out of here. The thought of what I had just done was sneaking up on me. I needed action. I needed to put the scene in the canyon behind me and fast. “There’s a trail up top. Do you want me to follow it?”
I waited while everybody got their orders straightened out. We had to call in reinforcements to investigate the scene in the canyon, and that meant splitting up our group. Jacobsen and I, followed by Landon and the three other officers, set out. I climbed the crack again, a little shakier this time, and waited at the top for the group to catch up. I found the tracks and settled into tracking mode again. Our suspect definitely had a destination in mind.
The ground was hard in this part of the forest. I could see why the team had given up. Tracking was slow. I puzzled over the ground gathering all the clues I could find.
“Can you give me a description of our fugitive?” I asked, making conversation. “From the trail I know he’s young, slender, lightly built.”
“Latino, black hair, brown eyes, black t-shirt with a rock band logo on it, blue jeans, tennis shoes.”
“Skater shoes,” I corrected. “Any weapons?”
“We’re supposed to consider them armed but so far the grenade is the only confirmation of that.”
The tracks were puzzling. If we weren’t in a hurry I would have found them interesting. It would have been a fun challenge. With an armed fugitive out running us it was just plain frustrating to slow down.
“This guy could be home watching a ball game by the time we see where this trail goes,” I complained.
The forest thickened. The soil changed from rock and hard pack to something more porous. At the same time the vegetation in the area grew up and shed leaves and pine needles obscuring the ground completely. Large trees loomed overhead, blocking the light and making it even harder to distinguish tracks. We startled a deer resting in the underbrush and I wished I’d been alone so I could try stalking it. I’d rather stalk deer than fleeing suspects.
I kept to the trail until something cued me in to look at my surroundings. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Something triggered a memory. An almost forgotten memory and I looked around suspiciously. What it was, I still couldn’t say. It was so faint.
“What is it, Cassidy?” Landon asked.
“I don’t know. Something is familiar to me in a bad way. Something doesn’t feel right.”
I continued on, looking around more carefully while I tracked the footprints before me. Landon was wary. He’d never quite seen me like this but he seemed to trust my instincts.
The feeling came back. A smell? Was it a smell I was perceiving? I licked my finger and held it up to the breeze. The footprints were leading into the wind. I sniffed the breeze like an animal but I still couldn’t quite identify it. Something was niggling at the back of my mind.
“Cassidy,” Jacobsen said, drawing me from my thoughts.
“Wait,” Landon told
