Chapter 8 - The Ghost of Clear Creek
""Keep moving!"" Kane barked, hauling Rachel back to her feet with unforgiving strength. ""If Danny went down, your grief won't keep the boy alive!""
They crawled out through an old drainage culvert half a mile down the ridge, tumbling into the freezing waters of Clear Creek. Dawn was just breaking over the mountain peaks, casting a slate-gray wash across the dense forest.
Kane collapsed onto his knees in the shallows, gasping for air. Blood was seeping through his bandages in dark crimson blossoms. His lips were turning blue, the cold water rapidly driving him into hypovolemic shock.
""Sit down on that boulder,"" Rachel commanded, her voice hardened by necessity. She ripped strips of cloth from her own uniform undershirt, packing his wound to stop the internal tearing. ""You pushed your body past the limit, Kane. You're bleeding out.""
""Doesn't... matter,"" Kane wheezed, leaning his head back against the stone. ""In the culvert... there’s an iron box buried under the third pillar. Daniel's hard drive.""
Ethan stood nearby, shivering in his wet clothes, but he didn't cry. The boy’s eyes were locked on the thick black plume of smoke rising from the ridge behind them. ""Daddy stayed in the fire, didn't he?""
Rachel felt her throat constrict. She walked to the culvert, plunged her hands into the freezing mud, and pried free a sealed, military-grade pelican case.
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""He's a survivor, Ethan,"" Rachel lied softly, clutching the cold drive against her chest. ""He always finds a way.""
Before she could return to Kane, the mechanical thrum of low-altitude rotor blades vibrated through the canyon walls. A black tactical helicopter crested the ridge, sweeping a blinding searchlight directly across the creek bed.
