Going Gone Read Free Page B

in that direction. Once the lieutenant hung up the phone, Cameron flashed his badge as he introduced himself.
    Clark frowned. “What interest does the FBI have in this?”
    Cameron pocketed his badge. “It’s strictly personal, sir. I’m involved with Laura Doyle, one of the passengers.”
    Clark’s expression cleared. “Ah. Sorry.”
    “Is there any news?” Cameron asked.
    Clark’s shoulders slumped a little more, as if weighed down by his responsibilities.
    “Not really. We have a general idea of where the plane most likely went down, but it’s snowing heavily up in the mountains today, so the search planes are grounded.”
    Cameron’s heart sank. “I want to help. Assign me to a search team. I have all the necessary training.”
    “I don’t—”
    “Please,” Cameron added. “I can’t just sit by and wait when I have the skills to help.”
    Clark eyed Cameron, who knew what the lieutenant was seeing: a big man, twenty-eight or twenty-nine, and obviously fit. He wasn’t the type to slow anybody down.
    “I brought clothes and equipment,” Cameron added.
    Clark relented. “Very well. We have cots set up in the adjoining room and a temporary kitchen beyond that. Find a place to bunk. You can go out in the morning.”
    Cameron groaned inwardly. So close and still he had to wait.
    “Yes, sir, thank you,” Cameron said, grabbing his gear.

Two
    T he snow stopped at midnight, but Laura continued to slip in and out of consciousness, unaware of her surroundings, alternately freezing and burning up with fever. Once when she woke up, she saw wolves standing in the doorway, snarling. Before she could panic, she passed out again. The next time she woke up, her sister was peering in through one of the small windows.
    “Wolves, Sarah. Run,” she mumbled, then slipped back into her mental abyss.
    The next time she came to, it was pitch-black, and her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth.
    “Water,” she muttered, and felt around in her bed until she found her stash, knowing she had to hydrate so her internal organs would not shut down.
    Her hands were shaking so hard she could barely hold the bottle, but she drank until it was gone.
    Easy, honey. Too much, too fast.
    She tried to sit up, but didn’t have the strength. “Cameron? Is that you?” When no one answered, she dropped her head and closed her eyes.
    “I’m lost, Cameron. I’m so lost. Please, find me.”
    She passed out with the empty water bottle still in her hand.
    * * *
    Cameron was up and dressed for the task ahead long before daybreak. When he went to the kitchen in search of coffee, the first thing he heard from the even earlier risers was that it had stopped snowing in the mountains. That meant the search would move into the air as well, which was a positive. Now they just needed to find the wreckage. He picked up a sweet roll and a cup of coffee, and sat down at an empty table to eat.
    Lieutenant Clark walked in and spotted him. He, too, got a sweet roll and a cup of coffee, then walked over.
    “Good morning, Agent Winger. I see you’re ready.”
    Cameron wiped his mouth as he stood.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “I have planes about ready to go up. You can go with the air search, or with a ground crew. It’s your choice.”
    “I choose ground.”
    Clark nodded. “As soon as you’ve finished, I’ll—”
    Cameron interrupted. “I’m ready now. Let me get my gear.”
    Once Cameron returned, Clark headed for the back door.
    “Follow me,” he said, and took a big bite of his sweet roll on the way out.
    Large four-wheel-drive vehicles were coming into the parking lot every few minutes to unload cold, weary searchers who’d been out since the day before. Two big trucks were loading up on fuel, while other vehicles were waiting to take new crews of searchers out.
    Clark flagged down one of the drivers, who was standing beside an older-model Suburban.
    “Hey, Wilson, got room in there for one more?”
    The driver, a heavyset woman with