Mac acted on pure instinct. He slid his pack off his shoulders, hoping it would divert the big cat. He swung his cane in a waist-high arc ahead of him until it hit the immobile trunk of a tall tree. Ignoring the hooked branch that tore at his face, he rushed forward to slide behind the tree trunk, placing its girth between himself and the giant feline.
It was not a moment too soon. Just as he dashed behind the tree, he heard the weight of the cat's pounce and it landed on his backpack, the fabric tearing under its ripping extended claws.
A pistol shot rang out in the darkness, near enough to MacGyver's ear that for a few moments he could only hear an echoing ring. He could smell the acrid powder from the bullet.
Footsteps pounded past him down the hill and there was another gunshot and the falling of the heavy body.
"Oh shit," said the first man's voice.
"What is it?" asked the second man.
"A backpack," replied the first, kneeling beside Mac's torn gear.
"Forest Service?" asked the second.
"Nah, too fancy. Not an outfitter either," said the first, and Mac's limited vision was suddenly washed white with the beam of a flashlight shining full on his face.
"Who are you?" challenged the first man, and Mac heard the ominous sound of the hammer being drawn back on the Colt.
Dropping his walking stick, but retaining his cane loosely against his thumb, Mac raised both hands, palms open toward the two men.
"Name's MacGyver," he said calmly, squinting against the searing light. He wondered how many times he'd used that calm voice while being held at gunpoint. Too many.
"What are you doing up here?" demanded the second man, but before Mac could answer, the first cut in.
"It's the guy who was asleep!" he said disbelievingly. "Back in the camp with the girl."
The flashlight left Mac's face, evidently playing over his jacket and the cane still dangling from his raised right hand. Mac's eyes, in response to the bright light, flashed greens and purples in his head.
"Wait, you're not…" began the first man.
"Blind?" finished Mac wryly, thinking how ironic it was that this conversation happened predictably even in the tension of gunpoint.
"You're hiking around out here blind?" the first man asked with a laugh that sounded almost like a snort. The tension in the air eased and the hammer of the gun clicked back into place, now lowered at the man's side.
"Fuck yeah, he's blind," countered the other man. "He's a liar."
The flashlight shone again in Mac's eyes, making him suck in a breath against the pain. They must have been satisfied by the white layer over his irises because the flashlight was dropped, and the man only said, "Huh."
The other snort-laughed again. "Now I seen everything."
"Better come with us," said the second man, firmly taking Mac's upper arm and turning him toward the cave. The other picked up Mac's pack with a grunt.
With his eyes still sparkling and his heart still racing, Mac had no trouble stumbling and tripping while the man shoved him uphill toward the cave. He wanted to appear helpless, but right at the moment it wasn't much of an act.
The arch of stone at the cave's entrance was low enough that he grazed his forehead, adding to his current misery. He was roughly shoved to a sitting position against a rocky outcrop and his hands were tied with a length of sisal rope. The men then returned to the fire and Mac's pack, which they began unzipping and rifling through his stuff.
Next to Mac, he heard a wriggle and a small hopeful "ungh?"
"Christy?" he whispered.
With his tied hands, he awkwardly dug into his right front pocket and fished out her inhaler, holding it up to show her. Then he reached out toward her, slowly, carefully and quietly so as not to attract attention.
He first felt her boots then ankles tied, then her pants. He hated having to feel up her leg but she seemed to understand his intent and lay still. Her hands were tied behind her back and she lay on her side. He carefully scooted until he could gently lower the cloth tied around her face and place the inhaler between her lips.
The men, intent on examining his pack, were not paying attention, as far as he could tell, and when one made a noise, he carefully squeezed the canister, delivering a puff of the medicine into her mouth. She breathed in and held her breath for a moment then exhaled.
"Again," she whispered and he administered another dose.
He left the gag around her chin, giving the appearance of being in place but allowing her room to breathe freely. He sat back in his place beside her feet, thinking.
"Lay down," ordered the first man. Mac obediently lay on the ground next to Christy, his bound hands cupped around the inhaler. The man tossed Mac's sleeping bag haphazardly over them both and returned to his own roll near the fire, which Mac could now dimly see.
Mac felt immensely pleased. He had barely been tied, which he attributed to their perception of his helplessness. Well, that was their mistake!
With the sleeping bag shielding his movements from the two men, he gently set the inhaler on the ground so that his hands were empty to feel in his pocket again for his knife. It was still there and he snapped open it's familiar sharp blade. In no time, he had cut through the ropes that circled his wrists, and he quietly rolled toward Christy. Since her wrists were tied behind her back, he had a harder time reaching them, but she helpfully rolled toward him so they were nearer, then once they were free, pulled her ankles toward him to cut those cords too.
He wondered if there was enough light for Christy to see a gesture. He felt around the cave for a couple of larger, fist-sized rocks. Up here, away from the river, the rocks were jagged pieces of granite basalt, square and heavy with sharp corners. He set one in Christy's now-free hands, after giving her the inhaler she badly needed. He decided to assume gestures were a no-go, since the fire had died down again, so when he handed her the rock, he tapped the back of her head. She nodded in understanding, and they both rose to a crouch as soundlessly as they could.
He realized that Christy could see where to strike, but he could not. He closed his eyes in frustration, but as he did so, he felt Christy take his hand. Relief swept over him at her level-headedness. She had sensed his predicament.
Together they moved toward the two men whose backs were turned at the moment.
Christy closed three of Mac's fingers until he was pointing. Then she lowered his arm and held it in a position she apparently liked. At that moment, she let go and began tiptoeing to his right.
Mac didn't know how far he had to go, but he knew the element of surprise was his best ally at the moment. When he heard Christy move, he lunged forward in the direction she had made him point.
"What the…?" exclaimed the first man but the second didn't have time to cry out. Mac heard a dull crack as Christy's rock collided with his skull.
Mac's hand caught the man's stocking cap as he was in the act of lunging for his gun. The cap came off in Mac's hand and he tossed it aside. Dropping his rock, he grabbed at the man's shirt with his left hand. He heard a scrabble on the sandy floor of the cave and used his left foot to kick the gun away from the man's reaching grasp. In doing so, however, he was thrown off balance and the man shoved him backward. He recovered quickly and resumed his attack before the man could get to his gun again. This time, his right hand found a fistful of the flannel shirt the man wore and he swung a left hook toward the man's face. He connected and felt the satisfying pain race up his knuckles. This left the man dazed long enough for him to switch hands and throw a right hook this time. By the time he had done this, Christy calmly walked up to them and hit him with her rock. The man slumped to the floor.
"Nice work," complimented MacGyver. "Let's get my stuff and get out of here."
Christy agreed and together they repacked all the items from Mac's backpack that were strewn around the cave.
"Do you want to take their guns?" Christy asked.
"No," began MacGyver, but then had a second thought. "But hand them to me anyway," he directed.
She did, and watched him fill the chambers with sand.
"Hope they don't meet another mountain lion," she commented dryly, and Mac chuckled.
He hitched his pack up onto his back and asked to take her elbow so she could lead the way. She was taller than he'd expected, although he remembered that her file stated that her height was 5' 6".
"It's pretty dark out there," said Christy. "I don't think I'm going to be much of a guide."
"I didn't pack a flashlight," stated Mac with a smile. "Didn't think I'd need one."
"I suppose I could borrow one of theirs," said Christy. "Do you think they'd mind?"
"Probably," said Mac.
They started out through the dark woods. Christy shined the "borrowed" flashlight ahead of her, and Mac held to her elbow, following her movement as well as he could and fending off tree branches that never failed to surprise him.
"Who are these guys, anyway? Did you hear them say what they were doing?" he asked as they walked.
Instead of answering, Christy stopped and turned toward Mac. "How in the world did you find me?" she asked, suddenly realizing how miraculous it seemed that he was here.
"Turn out your pockets," he said.
She put her hands into the pockets of her jeans.
"My inhaler," she said, sounding puzzled.
"Look again," he instructed.
"Oh, the transmitter for the salmon!" she exclaimed. "You tracked that?"
"Yep," he said. "But why did those guys kidnap you in the first place?"
"I was walking along the trail by Bear Creek above our camp," she began, resuming her progress down the hill. "When those two guys came hurrying down the trail toward me. I said hello, just being friendly. You know. One guy had a dart gun in his hand and started babbling about doing research on the brown bears. The other guy told him to shut up and quit being an idiot, and some other stuff."
"Go on," said MacGyver, intrigued.
"Well, one of the guys asked me if I knew the way to Elevator Mountain. Apparently they had gotten a bit lost. I told them I didn't but if they wanted to wait, I could go get my map and also show them where the ranger station was. They got all nervous when I said that, and then the bigger guy, you know the one you hit? He grabbed me. They tied me up there on the trail, which seemed really dumb since someone coming along would know something was up. But then they hurried along down the trail again. When we got to our campsite, you were asleep but Puck woke up and started coming toward us. He wasn't growling or barking or anything, but the guy with the dart gun panicked and shot him."
"That explains it," mused MacGyver, half to himself.
"Then they hurried along again carrying me for what seemed like forever. They must have found the place they were looking for, because they put me down in the cave and built a fire not too long before you came."
"Did they say who they were? Call each other by name? Say what they were looking for?" queried MacGyver.
"Let me think. The smaller guy did call the bigger one Frank. He seemed to be in charge. He got all mad when the other guy said it and told him I'd overhear and tell the Rangers."
"You didn't hear the other one's name?" asked Mac.
"I don't think so," replied Christy.
"I wonder what they were doing that made them want to avoid the Rangers?" said MacGyver rhetorically.
"They kept saying they needed to find the cave," said Christy.
It hit MacGyver then.
"The cave! A cave on Elevator Mountain, he said," exclaimed MacGyver.
"You mean Randall?" asked Christy skeptically. "The legend? But that was just a story. One of the tall tales that people tell around a campfire."
"Maybe not," countered MacGyver. "Or at least maybe Frank and Company don't think it's just a story."