Jeff stepped back and surveyed their surroundings. “We can’t go back the way we came. Obviously, someone isn’t happy we’re investigating the contamination.”
Tessa dropped to her knees and dug through her bag. “Ranger Harris gave me a map of the area.” She tugged the folded map out of the pocket she’d stuffed it in.
Jeff knelt down beside her to help unfold the map. He pointed to a spot along the lakeshore. “This is where our boat is.” He moved his finger in a straight line through the forest section and stopped. “We’re probably about here.”
They’d gone approximately three hundred feet. She studied the map. “Look. There’s a fire road here.”
“That’s about twenty miles west.”
She glanced to her right to where the nasty substance marred the forest floor. “The same direction the toxin’s flowing from.”
He nodded. “We’ll either come across the source of the pollutant first or the fire road.”
She had an awful suspicion that finding the source would be detrimental to their well-being. “And when we get to the road, then what?”
“We follow it back to civilization.”
“And help.” She was glad she’d worn her older, broken-in boots, though she hadn’t counted on a trek in the woods. Remembering she had a compass in her duffel, she dug the small device out to verify the direction they needed to travel.
He stood, his body tense as he looked from her to their surroundings. “We have to pay attention to signs of life, human and animal. We don’t want to go tramping into a cougar habitat or come upon a pack of gray wolves unawares.”
“This isn’t my first foray into the woods, you know.” She’d been trained in wilderness survival techniques. Not that she’d ever had to use them.
He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure those situations weren’t like this.”
She folded the map and stowed it away in the pocket of her duffel. “No, they weren’t. Most of the fieldwork I do is with teams responsible for the protection and restoration of fish habitat management. I rarely venture far from the water’s edge. And I’ve never been shot at.” She quaked, recalling how close those bullets had come. After tucking the flare gun inside the bag, she zipped it up and stood.
“Here, let me take that.” He reached for her bag.
She hesitated. Part of her wanted to let him carry her load. But that wouldn’t be fair. She’d brought the duffel; she should be responsible to carry her bag. “I’ve got it.”
His expression hardened. “We need to move quickly. It’s only going to slow you down.”
Accepting his rationale was easier than accepting his help. She relinquished her hold on the duffel. “You’re right. Thank you.”
He settled the strap across his body. “Why didn’t you bring a team with you to the lake?”
She shrugged, trying to downplay the truth. “I felt a strong urging that I needed to get to Glen Lake quickly.”
For expedience’s sake, she’d advocated traveling to Glen Lake alone to assess the damage and then decide if a full team would be required to make the trek to Washington State. She’d hoped the fish kill was something simple, something that could be easily contained.
Unfortunately, that clearly wasn’t the case. Once they returned to the ranger station, she’d report in. By then the team would have been assembled and ready to move.
“You listened to your gut feeling.” He sounded approving. “In my line of work, that could make the difference between life and death.”
If what happened earlier was any indication of the type of situations he alluded to, she was glad she worked with fish, not criminals. She admired and respected men and women who put their lives at risk for others. It took courage and commitment. And apparently faith.
“Has it?” she asked. “I mean, has your gut feeling saved your life?”
He held her gaze. “Yes. Though I prefer to think that God was prompting me rather than it having anything to do with me.”
“Interesting.” She wasn’t sure what she thought about his statement. Had God ever prompted her? Until today it had be a long time since she’d thought about faith. She couldn’t honestly say where she stood with God.
Needing to put them back on track, she said, “We should go.”
After a heartbeat, he looked away, releasing his hold on her. She filled her lungs with deep breaths as if she’d been deprived of oxygen. Shaking off his effect, she put one foot in front of the other and moved forward.
Jeff gestured to the trees. “See the patterns of the woods? The areas of light that seep through the canopy of tree branches? The dark places are where an animal would be most likely to hide. If we pay attention, the forest can tell us a lot about the creatures that live here.”
Apparently, he’d had some wilderness training, too. She glanced around. Though she still saw the ecological environment that could be broken down into fascinating individual pieces, she also saw the complex system of living organisms and an ecosystem that held dangers as well as secrets. “So in addition to running for our lives and keeping an eye out for more bad guys, what should we be looking for?”
“The obvious is footprints. The ground closer to the runoff will be softer and will show more, but we can’t rely on just the obvious.”
A cold knot formed in Tessa’s stomach. “If an animal drank from this liquid...”
“We might come across a sick or dead animal.”
She shuddered at the images that rose in her mind. A sick animal could be more dangerous than a frightened one. The beast wouldn’t have the good sense to avoid them. Most wild animals preferred to steer clear of humans unless provoked. An injured or sick creature might feel threatened and attack. Danger lurked in every direction. She moved closer to Jeff. “What other signs?”
“Feeding signs, like clipped vegetation or buried carcasses. Sleeping places. Some animals, like the fox, sleep curled beneath a bush, which would flatten the ground cover.”
They moved deeper into the forest. Keeping her gaze alert, Tessa had to double her steps to keep up with his longer stride.
He brushed back the branches of a bush for her to pass through a thicket. “Rub spots, hair or feathers. Scat. Travel routes, places where the vegetation is packed down and bruised, or spots where the leaves have been disturbed or berries of a bush have been stripped or twigs broken or grass bent.”
On the plane over from Utah, she’d read up on the national park. There’d been numerous sightings of cougars this past spring. As well as black bears and wolves. One report sighted a grizzly bear roaming the forest.
These woods covered thousands and thousands of acres across two countries. The likelihood that they’d run into a wild beast was slim. But not impossible.
Tension tightened the muscles between her shoulders. “How do you know so much about this stuff?”
“Through the U.S. Search and Rescue Task Force training.”
“Is that normal for a border agent?”
He shrugged. “Not mandatory. But essential when covering acres of forestland. My job requires I know how to track humans through the woods.”
She’d heard stories of people trying to enter the country illegally through the forests that separated the U.S. from Canada. Jeff’s obvious commitment to his job, to his country, was admirable.
He held out a hand,