Chasing Fate (Sentinel & Guide)

Chapter 55

No one would know, no one would suspect. It was too late for her.The sentinel carefully took down her bow, folding it reverently. Then the sweater, then the skirt, until she was exposed to the crisp morning air. 

The body that was once a bikini model's envy was covered in scars and burns, each one methodical, placed for maximum pain. The sentinel clicked his teeth at her state. "You never did learn."

He folded the clothing in perfect order, then placed the set in a vaccum bag before putting it away in the depths of his hiking bag. Marina's eyes focused desperately on the skyline. There was nothing she could do now. She had accepted her fate long before now.  

As the glint of metal interrupted her view of the sky, she desperately hoped that the letter she'd slipped into the mail those months ago had worked. She hoped the wheels were turning somewhere, anywhere, to find the clues she'd scraped together. With the very last thread of her consciousness she prayed that she'd be his last victim. 

Along the plains, tired coyotes raised their snouts again, scenting fresh blood in the west and rain approaching in the east. The young pups started to trot towards the outcrop where the delicious scent of fresh kill was wafting along, but they were stopped with a sharp bark. The pack leader was an old beast, wise and haggard from years struggling to survive. 

He knew what predator smelled like. And this kind was more than a bear or a mountain lion. Their pack tactics would not get even a sliver of meat while he stalked the area. And the coming thunder would wash the rest away. 

No, if his pack wanted to live, they would not pursue a human sentinel's kill. 

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Around midday at the Moxo Prairie Reserve, Bernard Wiggins was busy helping a handsome middle-aged man dry off. There were tons of campers in the lodge, hiding from the sudden rain that had come up the prairie. His guidewife Elise was busy brewing a washpot of coffee and hot cocoa to warm everyone up. 

This young one seemed to have the worst of it. The sky outside was a black as night when he got in, despite it being nearly noon. He was soaked through to the bone from walking at least a few miles in the muck. Luckily Moxo Prairie had a resort component, which meant there were plenty of towels and a shower right around the corner. 

Now he was sitting comfortably in a change of clothes as he waited on his own to dry. When he'd dragged himself in Bernard had thought he was a kid, but he could tell now that this young buck had simply taken good care of himself. A sentinel then. He was still as big and strapping as a man in his early twenties, but the salt in his chestnut brown hair made his age harder to place. He'd shaved off his five-o-clock shadow in the bathroom and looked like one of those venture capitalist techie types that loved to spend their four day weekends out in nature. 

A city yuppie. No wonder he'd stupidly gotten stuck in the rain. More experienced sentinels had headed out last night when they got whiff of the big storm coming. They didn't much like having their guides out in weather like this. Too dangerous. Usually it was only nulls that had to seek shelter. 

Well, life was full of learning experience, even for sentinels as strong as this one. 

"You just couldn't outrun the storm huh?"

"Yes suh," he said in a rather thick southern accent, "Smelt it but couldn't haul out fast enough. Dropped my phone in a creek tryin' ta jump it." 

Bernard chuckled, a rookie mistake. It was probably in his pocket and not his pack. 

"Will you be able to get back to your plane and all that? I know these days all that is tied up on your phone." 

The young sentinel nodded, "Yes suh. I got my ID and wallet still. Just gonna be a little bored till I get a replacement." 

Bernard only shook his head, laughing, "You kids and your phones. Raised on em! Act like they're air and water. When i was your age-" 

Bernard was comically interrupted by the ring of his own phone. He held up a finger for the sentinel to wait a moment while he took it. 

"Bernard Wiggins, Moxo Reserve." 

"Hey Bernie, this is Lenger down at County. We just got a real tough file sent over from Upstate. Gonna need you to round up the boys and get ready to comb the place." 

"In this rain? We won't find anything." 

"That's what I told him. It's a cold case but we've got the Hammonds looking at it, so it needs to be as soon as possible." 

"The Hammonds? Whew. What about the NOGS?"

"They can't be far behind. Missing case is a guide, unbonded. Upstate says this isn't the only one."

Bernard let out a low whistle, "Well hell. It's too slick to even go out the front door, but the minute this clears i'll get the rangers out here. You sending forensics?" 

"Yea. Weather report says it'll clear in about an hour or so. In the meantime, get me the visitor logs for the past five years" 

"Some of those are still paper you know."

"Yea, it's gonna be a long night." 

Bernard made a sympathetic noise before hanging up the phone. 

"Sorry about that," he apologized to the young sentinel who was clearly listening in, "You'd be surprised how often stuff like this happens. Someting about these wild spaces make folks disappear."

"Yea, I worried I would go the way of my phone for a while out there," the young man smiled, his eyes crinkling into crows feet. Bernard made a decision that he was in his late 30s, and should really stop being so reckless. He should settle down, find a guide to take care of instead of mucking about in the wet and cold. 

But he was an old man, and it wasn't his place to tell the youth how to live. 

"Well, I've got to get those files down to county. You go get soem coffee. This rain will roll out in an hour and you can catch the shuttle straight to the airport if that's where you're heading,"Bernard reached out to shake the young sentinel's hand," It was nice meeting you uh-"

"Pace. My name's Breton Pace."