Endangered (9781101559017) by Pamela Beason Read Free Book Online

lower voice, “Nobody else knows.”
    â€œA poodle, maybe. But a cougar taking a kid?” she said. “It’s not likely.”
    â€œNot likely,” he agreed. “We’d have found remains by now.”
    Sam shuddered at the thought. Her mind switched to another track. “Zack might not even be in the park now. If the man at the end of the path wasn’t Fred Fischer . . .” She couldn’t bear to finish the sentence.
    â€œThere’s only one exit from the valley, and we had that gate closed ten minutes after the parents called. The gatekeeper said that nobody had driven out for forty-five minutes, and we’ve checked every car since then.” Kent set his cup on the picnic table and yawned. “So, until there’s evidence to the contrary, we’ve got to look for Zack in the park.
    â€œThere’s a little kid lost out here somewhere.” He yawned again. “He’s probably cold and terrified, and all I can think about is breakfast. A Denver omelet. Ham and cheese.” He shook his head and then tilted it back, covering his eyes with dirt-encrusted hands. “I’m bad.”
    She put a hand on his arm. “Real bad.”
    A van pulled into the gravel parking space alongside the campsite, followed by a station wagon. Teenagers, adults, and dogs piled out in a frenzy of shouting and barking. The humans wore blue T-shirts with an Explorer Scout insignia on the front and SEARCH AND RESCUE printed on the back. The dogs sported the same designs on their blue packs.
    A sharp whistle interrupted the commotion. Thompson positioned himself beside the troop leader. The superintendent’s gray hair was matted at the crown from wearing a park service helmet all night. Beside Sam, Kent reached up to feel his own hair.
    â€œYours is okay,” Sam murmured. “And I don’t want to hear a word about mine.”
    â€œThere are around twenty volunteers coming in from Las Rojas, too. They should be here any minute,” Kent said. He stood up. “I’m taking off.”
    â€œFind that omelet.”
    â€œFind that kid.” He retreated with a trio of uniforms to a park-issue vehicle and drove away.
    A stack of posters lay on the table under a flashlight. She helped herself to one. The chubby-cheeked laughing toddler stared out at her from the yellow paper. MISSING. In the grainy photo, dark blurs of clothing surrounded the child. A woman’s hand lay protectively on Zack’s shoulder. A hasty enlarge-and-crop job.
    Sam studied the cherubic face. The little boy looked so happy in the photo.
    â€œPlease be okay,” she whispered.

4
    SAM’S search assignment was the valley campgrounds and trailhead parking lots.
    â€œBut those places have already been searched,” she pointed out.
    â€œHumor me,” Tanner told her. “The Explorers can beat the bushes. We need adults talking to campers, assessing the possibilities down here.” The woman looked around to make sure nobody was listening to the exchange, then lowered her voice a notch. “I heard about your encounter with Zack in the parking lot, about the unidentified man. Worse things happen to kids these days than getting lost.”
    Sam was unsure of how to respond. “I’ll keep my eyes and mind open.”
    â€œYou do that.” Tanner gave her a slap on the shoulder that sent her staggering from the campsite.
    The scouts from Rescue 504 fanned out onto the hillsides. Their singsong calls chimed across the valley as they worked through their assigned sectors. From the western rise, a female voice yelled “Zachary!” A male voice echoed from the east: “Zack!”
    She started her own search with the trail where she’d last seen Zack. Taking the left fork, she walked to the river, across from where Kent had sighted Apollo’s prints. The muddy soil was crisscrossed by hundreds of prints from boots and dog feet. There was no way