CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Emmett Swan peeled away from the parking lot at the trailhead for Park Butte like a bat out of hell, the tires spinning and kicking up dirt as he bounced down the road. The shocks on the truck were bad and in need of replacement, so the entire frame shook with the exertion, the rumbling of the engine like ominous thunder.

As his fingers drummed the steering wheel impatiently, he figured the drive would take about an hour or so and the hike up to the lookout maybe another two or three. He'd be able to get out and back within the day, although the hike back to his sister's lookout might need to occur in the darkness. The strange, tumbling sort of fear in his chest made him think that the hike - although strenuous - would be worth it. Anything would be worth it to keep his baby sister safe.

Emmett took his big brother duties seriously. This, of course, entailed a healthy dose of good-natured bullying to toughen her up as a young child and, as they grew, he exerted himself over actual bullies, over boys who would push her on the playground. Unbeknownst to Bella, he had even threatened Jake when they first started dating. And while he did not follow through adequately when their relationship ended with him dumping her for another woman, he still intended to make the kid's life a living hell eventually. This, however, would be unlike who he was in the past - he would plan, he would be cunning this time.

As he drove, he considered the lies he told his sister to keep her safe. The lies that he could fight the boogeyman. That the light would chase away the darkness. That he believed their father was still looking down on them.

It was just him and Bella now. He knew that.

His latest lie - and this one was again done in good faith that he would be able to keep her safe from what he believed to be the truth - he had told Bella that he would go straight to the Forest Service.

This was a big lie. He knew this. She would never forgive him if she found out… But, not wanting to worry her more, he had an inkling that something was wrong with the man on the other end of the two way radio and, true to Charlie Swan's memory, he would find out for himself.

Because the truck could not go past fifty some miles per hour, the drive ended up taking much longer - including the time it took for Emmett to stop and fill up the gas tank, although the stop to grab pre-packaged, sugary food from the gas station was helpful to his focus.

After what felt like days, the red truck pulled over at the trailhead and Emmett stepped out, grabbing his daypack, the sun slipping behind clouds in the late afternoon. The trail was marked strenuous, but he prided himself on working out and felt confident that he could overtake the supposedly grueling switchbacks.

Just within the first two miles - as the conifer trees began to thin around him - the trail climbed two thousand feet and regardless of the amount of weights he lifted, his breathing was labored and his brown curls were soaked, sticky with his sweat.

At four miles, the hike through Sourdough Creek helped to cool him off, and the trail varied between thinning forest and wildflower meadows growing in the ashes of the wildfire from the year before. Emmett considered how strange it was to set someone out here on the peak overlooking an area that was so recently damaged - it would be difficult for a fire to catch and plow through so soon.

Eventually, Sourdough Mountain Lookout loomed in the distance atop a relatively flat outcropping - all shutters closed on the outside, like their great eyes had winked out. The churning in his stomach told him that he knew instinctively that someone had been lying to his sister - that no one was really stationed here at all. Emmett began the ascent of the last few switchbacks, his shirt sticking to his body, still somehow hoping...

His breath was ragged as he summited, wiped his brow with his shirt. The views atop the rock - for this lookout had no deck - were breathtaking - much like his sister's, but this building overlooked the jagged peaks of the Picket Range with Diablo Lake, cast in deep shadows in the late afternoon sun, nearly a vertical mile below him. He should have felt like he was on top of the world, but, instead, he felt very small.

Shoving open the rickety door of the historical lookout, Emmett found an empty, dust-strewn and darkened room. He strolled in, yanking opening drawers and cabinets just to make absolutely sure. There was nothing on the cot - nothing on the desk provided except a fine layer of dirt. Beyond a few nicknacks left over throughout the years, he found nothing of note. Nothing to suggest that anyone had ever been here this summer.

Everything to suggest that his sister was in danger. He vaguely wondered if there was a stalker, some type of serial killer on the loose, as he closed the cabinets and stood to his full height.

Angry and frustrated and with the fear still clutching at his chest like a bear with its claws ripping at his skin, Emmett turned around with the intent to hike back down to the truck and go pick up his sister. They'd laugh about this tomorrow while sitting on the old sofa in their blue-painted living room over a large pizza with extra cheese.

Emmett looked up, a small smile ghosting his features as he thought about the future wide open in front of them both, only to find a dark figure standing in the doorway, red eyes staring back at him.

A/N: Sorry, I love Emmett so this one hurt. But y'all knew something was coming...

Heading to WA myself to hike Olympic (couldn't convince my spouse to do the North Cascades this trip, but all of these are real places and I'm just itching to go!), so it might be another week and a half before I write and post the next chapter. Though I do blindly hope for good WiFi on my flight and my row to stay empty...

In the meantime, I look forward to reading your thoughts!