“Arlie and Clem.” She struggled against the fog in her head to explain, memories returning piece by piece, along with an awareness of every part of her body that hurt—her head, her left shoulder, her right ankle. “Escaped cons. They came to my campsite. They shot me. What if they find us?”
Fear slithered up her spine, made her pulse spike.
The man took her right hand in his, brown eyes looking intently into hers, the strength in his gaze settling the rapid thrum of her heart. “You’re safe now. We’renotgoing to let anyone hurt you. What’s your name?”
Relief washed through her as his words hit home. “Naomi Archer.”
“How old are you, Naomi?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Can you tell me where they shot you?”
“My shoulder.” She tried to raise her left arm, but it hurt too much. Besides, it was all but pinned to her side by a space blanket.
“Lupine Command.” He had a hand-held radio.
There was a burst of static, and a woman’s voice answered him. “Lupine Command, go ahead.”
“All incoming units be advised the victim says she was attacked by two armed assailants who might still be in the area, break.”
“Go ahead.”
“The victim is conscious and oriented. She says two men named Arlie and Clem came to her campsite with a firearm. She says they’re escaped convicts. She has a gunshot wound to her left upper arm.”
Naomi’s eyes drifted shut, the man’s voice sliding over her.
From beside her came a dog’s whimper, and a cold nose nudged her cheek.
She opened her eyes and turned her head to the left to see a big gray dog sitting beside her, paws tucked under its chin. “Hey.”
“Shota found you.” A woman Naomi hadn’t noticed until now ruffled the dog’s fur. “I’m Winona. That’s my brother, Chaska.”
Naomi wanted to pet the dog, but she was just too tired.
“Naomi, do you know what day it is?” The man—Chaska—had put his radio down for now.
She tried to think. It was now morning. Yesterday had been Monday. “Tuesday?”
“Do you remember where you are?”
“Colorado.” She’d come here for a vacation. She’d come to keep a promise to herself. She’d come to relax, to photograph wildlife. And now…
“Is there anyone I can call for you—your family, a significant other, an employer?”
“No.” The last thing she wanted was for someone to call Ruth and Peter. She’d done everything she could to get away from them. She wouldn’t turn to them to save her own life. “No one.”
“Can you tell me what happened, Naomi?”
She did her best to remember, to tell him everything, but it wasn’t easy. Her head ached, and she was so sleepy. “I didn’t know they’d shot me at first. I ran, but it was dark. I fell and hurt my ankle. I couldn’t stand or walk. When it started to rain, I crawled in here. I tried to stay awake but …”
She was trembling now, memories of the long, dark night chilling her to the bone. “I was afraid they’d find me. I was afraid they’d kill me.”
“They can’t touch you now.” There was sympathy in the man’s eyes, but steel in his voice. “If they were nearby, Shota would warn us. I doubt even escaped convicts would want to tangle with him.”
He spoke into the radio again, relayed what she’d told him to others.
Naomi looked up at Winona. “Is he a police officer?”