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  CHAPTER 1

  Nikki Roberts's green eyes flew open. The morning sun was pouring through her bedroom window. She grabbed the alarm clock and frowned. It was Monday and already after seven o'clock. “Traitor. Of all the mornings for you to fall down on your job …”

  A door slammed downstairs. The tall blond girl let the clock fall on the bed and frantically pulled on her jeans.

  A voice carried from below. “Hurry up, Nikki. We're almost ready.” It was her dad, and his voice held a note of impatience.

  Jim Roberts was a well-respected outfitter and guide in the Wabash Mountains. The family-operated Tall Pines Hunting Lodge functioned as a headquarters for his guided elk hunts. It catered to people from all over the country and was always full in the winter, with a long waiting list.

  Now it was off-season. No hunting could take place in the summer, so there were no visitors. Nikki's parents were going to the city, several hundred miles away, for a week to help her uncle Joe, who was recovering from knee surgery.

  Nikki had convinced her folks that she was old enough to stay behind and take care of things. After all, she had been raised up here, and at thirteen she was mature enough to remember to feed the stock and keep an eye on the place.

  She took the wooden stairs two at a time and found her mom in the kitchen checking for the tenth time a list of things for Nikki to do.

  Nikki peered at the list over her mother's shoulder. “Don't worry, Mom. Everything will be fine. You'll only be gone a few days.”

  Her mom put the list back on the refrigerator. “I know. But if there is a problem, you'll get on the phone and call for help, right? The CB base radio doesn't have the range to get out beyond the mountains. “She knows all that.” Nikki's dad winked at her over the top of her mother's head. He picked up the last suitcase. “You've been over it with her at least a dozen times. Now come on. We told Joe we'd be there before nightfall.”

  Nikki walked them out to the pickup. Her mom looked around anxiously at the woodland that surrounded the lodge. The river, peaceful and reassuring, tumbled playfully under the log bridge a few yards in front of them. She sighed, hugged her daughter, and got in on the passenger side. “I put Uncle Joe's number right beside the phone.”

  “I know, Mom. And on the microwave, the TV, and the bathroom mirror. I won't lose it, promise.”

  Nikki's dad put his arm around her. “Stay close to home, kiddo. No long horseback rides or canoe trips, okay?”

  “Dad, you're as bad as Mom.”

  “Can I help it if I want my head wrangler and chief cook in one piece when I get back?”

  “What could go wrong? All I have to do is feed the horses, take reservations, and lie around and eat popcorn.”

  Her dad stepped into the truck and laughed. “Well, at least go easy on the popcorn.” He started the engine. “We should be back by Sunday.”

  “Good-bye, Nikki.” Her mother waved. The truck rumbled down the dirt drive, and they were gone.

  Nikki watched them cross over the bridge and disappear down into the valley. A funny feeling of excitement came over her. She picked up a rock and threw it as far out into the river as she could. It skimmed easily across the glimmering surface. Nikki smiled. Then she turned and raced back to the house to begin her first day of independence.

  CHAPTER 2

  The horses were fed, and there was nothing worth watching on television. Nikki had straightened the entire house, and it was still before noon. She pulled on her riding boots and wandered back out to the barn. Goblin, her favorite horse, put his head over the corral fence, and Nikki stroked his sleek black neck.

  “Dad didn't say I couldn't go riding, you know. He just said not to take long rides.” Nikki patted him between the ears. “Anyway, what's long to some people is really not very long to others. Have you ever noticed that, Goblin?”

  The horse blinked his big dark eyes at her. She ruffled his ears. “I'm glad you're so agreeable.”

  Nikki brushed his smooth coat, slid on his bridle, and lightly tossed a blanket on his broad back. She grabbed her saddle, moved to Goblin's left side, and swung it up. When everything was in place, she pulled the cinch tight and stepped up.

  In minutes she was heading up the north trail toward Sugar Loaf Ridge. There were some dark clouds in the distance, but it would take a few hours for them to get here. In the meantime, she would take a leisurely ride and check on the elk herd. Then she would come back, make an embarrassing amount of popcorn, and pig out while she watched movies on TV.

  Nikki wound her way up the narrow trail, working Goblin into an easy canter. Giant pines lined the trail on both sides. Every so often a rabbit would dart out of the brush and race alongside Goblin, then disappear back into the undergrowth. Goblin whinnied playfully each time. He seemed to enjoy the game.

  Several miles up Nikki topped out on a small peak overlooking a grassy meadow. To her right were beautiful snowcapped mountains. It was peaceful here. She stopped and took a deep breath of the fresh air.

  In the meadow below a movement caught her eye, and she slid the binoculars from the saddlebags.

  Bighorns.

  A large band of bighorn sheep was passing through from the salt licks on its way up to the high mountains. The big rams marched like royalty with their curled horns held high. The spring lambs jumped over their mothers, chased one another, and butted heads with an unending supply of energy.

  Staying in the shadows of the tall trees, Nikki urged Goblin forward until he was right at the edge of the meadow. Silently she stepped off her horse and tied him loosely to a branch. She slowly crawled closer, using the tall grass for cover.

  The lambs were still romping about. One of the mothers got tired of being hurdled and butted a little one end over end. The tiny lamb tumbled to the ground in a woolly heap. Nikki nearly laughed out loud.

  From nowhere a rifle shot cracked the morning and echoed through the valley.

  The band of sheep scattered, but it was too late. A large ram fell to the ground.

  Nikki froze.

  Poachers.

  Through the tall grass she watched two camouflage-colored four-wheelers drive up to the ram. Two rough-looking men jumped off and went mechanically to work, slicing and hacking at the throat of the dead animal. They were after its head. Within minutes it was severed. Carefully the poachers wrapped the beautiful curled horns and tied the ram's head on the back of one of the four-wheelers.

  Nikki held her breath. No telling what they would do if they found her there as a witness.

  One of the men suddenly looked in her direction. He had cold blue eyes and a pointed red beard. She tried to sink lower into the grass. The man began walking right at her. He passed so close he almost stepped on her hand.

  A horse whinnied. It was Goblin. He had s
omehow gotten loose and decided to join Nikki in the meadow.

  The man with the red beard grabbed the horse's reins. “Someone's out here, Frank. They probably saw the whole thing.”

  The man called Frank finished tying the ram's head and wiped the blood off his hands. “Quit worrying. It's just a loose horse. You've been jumpy all day.”

  The bearded man scowled. “I'll quit worrying when we close down this operation. We've got too much at stake to get caught.”

  “We're not going to get caught. No one lives in these mountains. There's one old hunting lodge and no people around for miles.”

  “Then where did he come from?” Red Beard looked at the horse.

  “Like I said, he got loose. Probably threw a greenhorn somewhere down in the valley. Give him a swat and send him on his way. We've got more important things to worry about.”

  The bearded man tied the horse's reins together and hit him hard on the rear. Goblin jumped forward and raced through the trees.

  “Don't just stand there,” Frank snarled. “Let's get this one back to camp and measure the horns. If it's as big as I think it is, we'll only need three more to fill our order.”

  The two men climbed on the four-wheelers and drove away, leaving the animal's carcass lying in the grass.

  Nikki waited until she could no longer hear their engines before she stood up. Her shoulders slumped. Goblin was nowhere in sight, and it was a good four miles back to the lodge.

  Thunder rolled from the east, and lightning crashed behind it. The dark clouds had moved in while the poachers had kept her captive in the grass. Dime-size raindrops started falling.

  Nikki shivered, pulled up her shirt collar, and ran.

  CHAPTER 3

  Goblin was waiting patiently by the barn when Nikki got home. By the time she unsaddled him and made it to the house she was thoroughly drenched. Water ran off her hair and clothes and made puddles on the floor.

  The lightning was worse now, striking every few minutes. Nikki looked out the narrow window next to the front door. Another flash popped near the barn, and the ground turned a ghostly white.

  Nikki leaned against the wall to catch her breath, wondering what to do about the poachers. “The sheriff,” she whispered out loud. Leaving a wet trail, she headed for the kitchen and picked up the phone.

  It was dead.

  “Oh great.” Nikki brushed a piece of long blond hair out of her eyes. She snapped her fingers. “The CB.” It didn't have great range, but it would be worth a try.

  She ran to her dad's office and had just turned the doorknob when she heard the radio squelch. A garbled voice crackled through the static.

  “… please anybody … fire … need help, over.” It was a child's voice, a boy's, but it shook with fear or pain. “Can you … me … near the bend in the river. Help us … over.”

  Nikki stayed off the radio, waiting to hear a response, not wanting to interfere with an emergency. There was no answer.

  “… lost … fire coming closer … anybody hear …”

  Still no response.

  Nikki picked up the handset. I'll wait a second longer, she thought. Maybe someone will call him.

  “We … help … sister's hurt … please …” The voice was torn by static.

  Nikki listened intently, but there were no other transmissions. There would be no help for them.

  “I can help you. I'll get you out.” Nikki found herself yelling into the microphone. “Can you hear me?”

  Except for the buzz of static, the radio was silent.

  They hadn't received her.

  Nikki tried again. “Can you hold on? Can you tell me where you are? Over.”

  “… white rocks … can any … help us …”

  The speaker suddenly went dead, as if someone had unplugged the radio.

  The poachers would have to wait. Nikki raced upstairs and checked her survival bag. It was always kept packed with dried food, extra clothing, and other gear so that when her father needed her on short notice, she would be ready. She made an attempt to dry off, changed her clothes, and slipped into a raincoat.

  By the time she got outside, the weather had begun to clear. The wind still whipped, but the brunt of the storm had moved on.

  She started for the barn to resaddle Goblin but changed her mind.

  A canoe would be faster.

  The boy had described white rocks near a bend in the river. That could only be one place—Deadman's Drop.

  The rapids.

  Nikki ran to the boat shed and pulled a fiberglass canoe off the rack. She carried it on her shoulders to the water and then went back for paddles and a life vest.

  She threw her survival pack in the middle, slid into the canoe, and pushed off.

  CHAPTER 4

  As Nikki paddled down the rushing mountain river, she searched the horizon for a sign of the fire. Sure enough, a thin gray haze hung just over the top of one of the mountain ridges downriver. She thought she could smell the smoke.

  Her dad had been called upon many times in the past to help fight fires in the area, and she had learned that lightning was usually the cause. She was hoping that there had been enough rainfall in that area to keep it from spreading too far. Nikki breathed a sigh of relief when she thought about home. The lodge had just received a good soaking. It would be safe for the time being from spot fires.

  A loud noise brought her attention back to the river.

  She felt it more than heard it. From just ahead came a slow, constant thundering sound.

  The first white water.

  She reached it in seconds. This small set of rapids wasn't considered too difficult. Nikki had run them many times with her father. Together they had traveled the north fork of the river all the way to Harrison.

  Once through, she straightened her back and dropped her knees to the floor of the canoe. Readjusting her grip on the paddle, she began looking ahead for rocks.

  The frothing white water tumbled and was loud enough now to block out all other sound as it crashed over the large rocks and curled under in eddies.

  The speed of the canoe increased, drawn by the current. The canoe seemed to hang on the edge of a rapid for a second.

  Then it shot up.

  Nikki could no longer see the river in front of the canoe. Water rolled and splashed over her. The hull grated on a rock. She screamed at herself for not seeing it sooner.

  Despite her best efforts to stop it, the stern of the canoe started to turn. In a matter of seconds the small craft whipped around and plunged blindly backward.

  She tried to push against passing boulders to turn it back, but the current was too strong.

  Then it hit hard.

  The canoe scraped its hull against a huge rock and lurched to a stop. A rip could fill the craft with water almost instantly. Nikki quickly inspected it for leaks. She ran her hands over the sides and up and down the bottom, feeling for even the tiniest tear. She found none.

  “Okay.” Nikki used the paddle to push free from the snag and continued downstream. “Let's get it right this time.”

  The water in front of her was calmer for the next mile or so. Occasionally the current tugged at her, but she guided the little canoe through with no more problems.

  The smoke was easier to see now. It was boiling black from just beyond the next hill.

  Nikki let the canoe drift close to shore. The river forked here, and Deadman's Drop would be coming up. She could take her chances and maybe get to the kids faster by trying the dangerous rapids, or she could pull the canoe out now and go overland.

  “It won't be faster if I'm dead,” Nikki said out loud. She stepped out of the canoe onto the pebbly river bottom and pulled the craft up to the shore, then secured it to a tree with the bow rope.

  Quickly she took off her life vest and shrugged out of the thin raincoat. Slinging the pack over her shoulder, she headed toward the smoke.

  Nikki wished she had some way of knowing exactly where the boy and his sister were.
Since he had mentioned the river, she decided the best thing to do was stay close to it. Maybe they would be waiting somewhere near the rapids.

  It hadn't rained here. The brush along the shore was dry and brittle. There would be nothing to slow the fire. It was free to burn in any direction it chose.

  A tangled mass of clawing brush tore at her clothes. She worked through it as fast as she could, the sharp leaves drawing blood from her hands, When it got too thick, Nikki waded in the water to avoid it.

  Around the next twist in the river, a wall of pale gray smoke—silhouetted in solid black— rose from the trees just a few hundred yards from her. The underside of the smoke was illuminated in an eerie reddish glow. For a moment she stood transfixed, fascinated in a way she couldn't explain.

  Nikki shook her head and bolted blindly through the brush. A mixture of fear and uncertainty flooded over her. One thought ran through her mind: Find the children and make it back to the canoe before the fire cut her off.

  She started shouting. “Hey! Are you there? Can you hear me?”

  The smoke was a thick black cloud sweeping toward her just ahead of the raging fire. An orange tint settled in the tops of the trees. Nikki tried not to look at it.

  She would face the fire soon enough.

  “Please, please let me find them,” Nikki prayed. She cupped her hands and yelled as loud as her voice could carry, “Where are you? I'm here to help. You have to answer me.”

  After a few more yards Nikki stopped. She had gone as far as the shore would allow. There was a sheer drop of a hundred feet in front of her. Though she had never been down this fork, she knew exactly where she was.

  Deadman's Drop.

  The roar from the rapids drowned out her shouting. The air was hot, and pieces of soot flew around her.

  Think! Nikki tried desperately to concentrate. If you were a frightened child trapped in a forest fire, what would you do?

  She stood on the edge of the cliff and watched the crashing white water below.

  A tiny hand reached up and touched her shoe.