THE TRACKER CHOSE TO RUN BEHIND US, UNWILLING TO GUESS AT OUR route.
Every now and then I would catch the edge of his thoughts, but never more than a few words, or a view of the Jeep. He followed on higher ground, in the mountains, unconcerned when it took him miles from the road. He could still see us.
I didn’t want to think about where Bella was now, what she might be doing and saying. It would be too distracting. But there were a few things left undone.
I whispered instructions to Carlisle and he typed messages to Alice’s phone. It probably wasn’t necessary, but it made me feel better.
“Bella needs to eat at least three times every twenty-four-hour period. And hydration is important. She should have water on hand. Ideally eight hours of sleep.”
Carlisle, still keeping the phone low, texted as quickly as I could speak. “And…” I hesitated. “Tell Alice not to talk about our conversation
before in the Jeep. If Bella has questions, deflect them. Tell her I’m very serious about this.”
Carlisle looked at me curiously, but typed my message. I imagined Alice on the other end, rolling her eyes.
She only texted back the letter y in acknowledgment. I took that to mean that Bella was still awake, and Alice intended to keep my instructions to herself. She must see an unpleasant reckoning if she ignored me.
Emmett was mostly thinking about what he would do when he had the tracker in his grasp. His imaginings were pleasant to watch.
When we had to refuel, I used one of the large gas cans Emmett had loaded into the backseat. In my pocket, Bella’s socks would leave the faintest trace of her scent in the air. I moved in a blurred rush, as if my only goal was to race away again, and I was pleased when the tracker came
closer to watch. For a moment, he was no more than a mile away. I wanted to take advantage, to flip this flight into an ambush, but it was too soon. We were still too near the water.
I didn’t try to be evasive about our route, driving in the straightest line the curving freeways allowed toward my destination. I hoped the tracker would interpret this the way I wanted him to—that I had a destination in mind, somewhere defensible, somewhere I felt safe. He knew little about us, but he knew this much: We had more physical assets available to us than the average nomad. Also, we were many. Perhaps he would imagine even more allies waiting in the forests to the north.
And I had considered running toward Tanya’s family. I was sure they would help. Kate, particularly, would be an excellent addition to our hunting team. But they were also too close to the water. The tracker might take one look at the five of them and break for the ocean. All he’d need to do to disappear was submerge. It was impossible to track someone underwater. And he could come out anywhere—five miles down the beach, or in Japan. We’d never be able to follow. We’d have to regroup and start over.
I was headed toward the national parks near Calgary, more than six hundred miles from the nearest open water.
Once we turned on the tracker, he would know that he’d been led astray, and Bella wasn’t with us. He would run, and we would chase. I felt confident I could outrun him, but I needed a course with enough length. Six hundred miles gave me some padding.
I wanted to finish this quickly.
We drove through the night, only decreasing our speed occasionally when I heard a speed trap waiting ahead. I wondered what the tracker made of that. He’d already guessed I had extra abilities. This was surely giving away more than I wanted to, but the other option was too slow. Let him see this—my giving up information about my advantages—as another sign that we were intent on some specific destination. A safe house? That would have to make him curious.
I wished I could hear the theories in his head, but he kept back just far enough for me to see only the sporadic glimpse. He must have formed a theory about my talents, and he probably wasn’t far off.
The tracker ran on, tireless, and from the little I could hear, enjoying
himself immensely.
His enjoyment irritated me, but it was a good thing. As long as he was content with what he was currently doing, it gave me time to get to my chosen arena for our ambush.
As the time passed, though, I got nervous. The sun was closer to the western horizon than the eastern. We’d done nothing interesting but stop to refuel a few times—always leaving hints of Bella’s scent. But would this long run bore him? Would he be willing to follow for potentially days and days, through the northern territories and into the Arctic Circle if we kept going? Could he abandon his chase before he was absolutely sure Bella wasn’t in the Jeep?
“Ask Alice if she sees the hunter quitting before we’re set.” Carlisle complied quickly.
A few minutes later, the letter n. That settled my nerves.
The sun moved slowly closer to the western mountains as we neared my target. I wanted to get him close enough for me to hear him. I needed to do something to interest him.
We were on a small freeway that led to Calgary. We could have continued to Edmonton, waited for full dark, but I was getting more and more anxious. I wanted to stop running away and start hunting.
I turned off onto a small side road that led into the southernmost end of Banff National Park. The road did curve around eventually back to Calgary, but it wasn’t the fastest way to get anywhere. It represented a new behavior we hadn’t exhibited up to this point. That would have to pique his interest.
Carlisle and Emmett knew what the change meant. Both were suddenly tense. Emmett was more than just tense—he was thrilled, eager to get to the fight.
This side road took us quickly away from the barren, early spring farmlands that lined the road to Calgary. We’d started climbing immediately, and now we were surrounded by trees again. It looked quite similar to home, but drier. I couldn’t hear another mind anywhere nearby. The sun was on the other side of the mountain we were climbing.
“Emmett,” I breathed. “I’ll buy you a new Jeep.” He chuckled once. No worries.
We could pretend to stop for gas again—it was nearly time—but this
change of pace would have the tracker on edge. We’d have to move fast. “On my word,” I told them, waiting for the first touch of the tracker’s
mind.
Emmett’s hand was on the door handle.
This road was much rougher than the last. I hit a rut that had the Jeep jolting out of our lane. As I worked to control the vehicle, suddenly the tracker’s voice was there.
… must have a place close…
“Go,” I snarled.
We all three threw ourselves out of the speeding Jeep.
I landed on the balls of my feet, and I was sprinting toward the sound of the tracker’s thoughts before the others had got their balance.
Oh ho, a trap after all!
The tracker did not sound either upset or frightened by the sudden reversal in roles. He was still having fun.
I pushed myself, blurring through the trees we’d just driven past. I could hear Carlisle and Emmett behind me, Emmett charging through the underbrush like a rhinoceros. His louder attack might cover some of the sounds of my own. Maybe the tracker would think I was farther back than I actually was.
It was a great relief to run, to move under my own propulsion, after the long drive stuck inside the Jeep. It was a relief not to have to rely on road, but just to take the shortest route toward my target.
The tracker was fast, too. It didn’t take long before I was glad I’d given myself six hundred miles to catch him.
He curved west toward the far-distant Pacific as we climbed higher into the eastern edge of the Rockies.
Carlisle and Emmett were falling farther behind. Was that the tracker’s hope? Separate us and take us out one at a time? I was on my guard, waiting for another sudden turnabout. I welcomed the idea of his attack. Part of me was full of fury, another part was just anxious to finish this.
I couldn’t hear his mind—he was slightly out of range—but I could follow his scent easily enough.
His path turned northward.
He ran and I ran. Minutes passed, then hours. We veered northeast.
I wondered whether he had a plan or was just running aimlessly to throw me off.
I could barely hear Emmett’s charge through the forest. They had to be several miles back now. But I thought I could hear something ahead. The tracker moved quietly, but not silently. I was gaining on him.
And then the noise of his progress was gone completely. Had he stopped? Was he waiting to attack?
I ran faster, eager to spring his trap.
And then I heard a faraway splash at the same time I crested a snow- dusted ridge that broke off in a steep cliff.
Far below, a deep glacial lake, long and narrow, almost like a river. Water. Of course.
I wanted to dive after him, but I knew that would give him the advantage. There were miles of bank where he could emerge. I would have to be methodical, which would take time. He had no such impediments.
The slow way was to run the perimeter of the lake, looking for traces of him. I’d have to be careful not to miss his exit. He wouldn’t walk up onto the bank and start running again. He’d try to leap out, to put some distance between the water’s edge and his scent.
The slightly faster way was to split the distance with Emmett and Carlisle; we could cut the perimeter into thirds.
But there was also the fastest way.
Emmett and Carlisle were getting closer. I ran back to Carlisle, my hand stretched out in front of me. It only took him a second to understand what he wanted. He tossed me the phone. I turned again and ran with them, texting Alice.
Tell me which one of us finds the trail.
We reached the overlook of the long lake.
“Emmett,” I breathed almost silently. “You decide to take the south bank from this point and then follow it around to the east. Carlisle, decide to run the north along this bank. I’ll take the far side.”
I pictured it, committed to it, diving into the dark blue water, shooting across to the opposite shore, then running north to meet up with Carlisle at the far tip of the lake.
The phone vibrated silently.
Em, she texted. Southern tip.
I showed them her text, and then handed the phone back to Carlisle. He had a waterproof bag to protect it. I dove, and heard Emmett push off behind me. I held myself straight as a knife, determined to cut into the water with as little sound as possible.
The water was very clear, and just a few degrees warmer than freezing. I swam several yards below the surface, invisible in the night. I could make out the sound of Emmett behind me, but he was nearly silent. I couldn’t hear Carlisle at all.
I slipped out of the lake at its southernmost point. The only sounds behind me were the drops of water falling off Emmett and hitting the stony bank.
I took the right, and Emmett the left.
There was a ripple as Carlisle emerged. I glanced back. The phone was in his hand again, and he was motioning to Emmett. I’d chosen the right way. Sure enough, only a few yards farther and I caught the hint of the tracker’s scent. It was above us—he’d leaped into the branches of a tall lodgepole pine. I scaled the tree and found his trail leading off through the branches of the surrounding trees.
And then I was on the chase again.
I fumed as I flew through the branches. We’d lost enough time with the lake that he was many miles ahead now.
He was doubling back the way we’d come. Would south be his choice? Back to Forks to find Bella’s trail? It was a solid seven-hour trek, if run straight. Would he want to give me that long a chance to catch up to him?
But as the endless night wore on, he changed direction a dozen times. He moved predominantly west, easing his way toward the Pacific, I imagined. And he kept finding ways to build his lead, to slow us.
Once it was a wide cliff. We each decided the directions we would search at the base, but Alice just kept texting n n n n n. Her view of the tracker was so limited, she could only see how we reacted to his trail. It took too long for me to see the damage in the cliff face where he’d broken his fall halfway down and then scaled sideways across the stone.
Another time he found a river. Again, we exhaustively imagined the routes we’d go searching. He stayed in the water for a very long way. We lost nearly fifteen minutes before Alice saw that Carlisle would find the tracker’s trail thirty-six miles southwest.
It was maddening. We ran and swam and swung through the forest as fast as we were able, but he just toyed with us, constantly building his lead. He was very practiced and, I was sure, quite confident in his success. The advantage was entirely his now. We’d keep lagging behind, and eventually he’d be able to lose us completely.
The thousands of miles between Bella and me kept me always anxious. This plan, leading him away, was turning out to be no more than a minor delay in his real search.
But what else could we do? We had to keep chasing after him and hope we could somehow catch him out. This was supposed to be our big chance to stop him without endangering Bella. We were doing a pathetic job.
He confused the trail again in another miles-long glacial lake. There were dozens just like this, all raking north to south through the Canadian valleys as if a giant hand had gouged its fingers down the center of the continent. The tracker took advantage of them often, and each time we had to imagine and decide, then wait for Alice’s C or Em or Ed, a y or an n. We got faster at the mental part, but every pause put him farther ahead.
The sun rose, but the clouds were thick today and the tracker didn’t slow. I wondered what he would have done if the sun was shining. We were on the west side of the mountains now, and running into human towns again. Probably he would have just quickly slaughtered any witnesses if he’d had to.
I was certain he was heading for the ocean and a clean getaway. We were much closer to Vancouver now than to Calgary. He didn’t seem interested in moving south, back to Forks. There was a slight northern trend.
Honestly, he didn’t need any more stratagems. He had enough of a lead to just race flat out to the coast with no chance of us catching up.
But then the trail led into yet another lake. I was ninety percent sure that he was toying with us simply for his own entertainment. He could have escaped, but it was more fun to make us jump through his hoops.
I could only hope that his arrogance would somehow backfire, that he’d make a bad choice that would put him within our reach, but I doubted it. He was too good at this game.
And we kept following. Giving up didn’t feel like a valid option. Midmorning, Esme texted. Can you talk?
Is there any chance he’ll hear me? Carlisle wanted to know. “If only,” I sighed.
Carlisle called Esme and they spoke while we ran. She had no real news, she was mostly worried about us. The redhead was still in the area, but she wouldn’t come within five miles of Esme or Rosalie. Rosalie had done some scouting, and it appeared the redhead had gone to the high school in the night, and through most of the public buildings in town. She’d hadn’t gone north toward our house again, and she’d only gone as far south as the municipal airstrip, but she seemed to be hiding herself to the east, maybe keeping close to Seattle for a bigger hunting ground. She’d tried Charlie’s house one time, but not until he’d left for work. Esme had never been more than a few yards from Charlie throughout, which was impressive, since he had no idea she was there.
There was nothing more, no clues. She and Carlisle exchanged pained I love yous, and then we were back to the mind-numbing chase. The tracker was headed north again, enjoying himself too much to take the easy escape. It was midafternoon when we came to another lake, crescent-shaped and not as large as the others he’d used to slow us. Without having to discuss it, we each decided to follow our usual search routes. Quickly, Alice
responded Em. Backtracking to the south, then.
Once we had his scent again, it led us through a small town tucked into a mountain pass. It was big enough for a light flow of traffic on the narrow streets. We had to slow down—and I hated that, even though I knew it didn’t matter. We were too far behind for our speed to make any difference. But it soothed me to think that he’d probably had to move at human speed, too. I wondered why he would bother. Maybe he was thirsty. I was sure he knew he had time to stop for a bite.
We darted from building to building, trusting my senses to let us know if anyone was watching, running when we could. We were obviously not dressed warmly enough for the weather here—and if anyone looked closely, we were also soaking wet—and I tried to weave us around human vantage points to avoid catching any attention.
We made it to the outskirts of town without discovering any fresh corpses, so he must not have been looking to quench his thirst. What was he seeking, then?
To the south now.
We followed his trail to a large, rough shed in the middle of an open field, thick with thorny brambles that were still winter bare. The wide doors to the shed were propped open. The inside of the shed was mostly empty, just stacks of mechanical and automotive clutter lining the walls. The scent led into the shed and was more set into the ground here, as if he’d lingered for a moment. I could only think of one reason, and I searched for the scent of blood. Nothing. All I could smell was exhaust… gasoline.…
I felt sick as I realized what I hadn’t seen at first. With a low oath, I darted out of the shed and vaulted over the tall brambles. Emmett and Carlisle followed, back on high alert after the stupefying hours of failure.
And there, on the other side, was a long line of flattened dirt, rolled as smooth as possible, about two hundred feet wide, stretching at least a mile to the west.
It was private airstrip. I cursed again.
I’d been too focused on the water escape. There was an air escape, too.
The plane would be tiny and slow, not much faster than a car. No more than one hundred forty miles an hour, if it was in good condition. The slipshod little hangar made me think it probably wasn’t. He’d have to stop for gas frequently if he intended to go far.
But he could go in any direction at all, and we had no way to follow.
I looked at Carlisle, and his eyes were just as disappointed and hopeless as mine.
Will he go back to Forks to try to pick up her trail?
I frowned. “It would make sense, but it seems a little obvious. Not quite his style.”
Where else can we go?
I sighed.
Should I?
I nodded. “Make the call.”
He pressed the redial button. It only rang once. “Alice?”
“Carlisle,” I heard her breathe.
I leaned closer, anxious, though I could already hear. “Are you totally secure?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“We lost him about a hundred seventy miles northeast of Vancouver. He took a small plane. We have no idea where he’s headed.”
“I just saw him,” she said urgently, and also totally unsurprised by our failure. “He’s headed to a room somewhere, no clues to the location, but it was unusual. Mirrors covering the walls, a gold band around the middle of the room, like a chair rail, mostly empty but for one corner with an old AV set up. There was another room, too, a dark room, but all I could see was that he was watching VHS tapes. I have no idea what that means. But whatever made him get in that plane… it was leading him to those rooms.”
It wasn’t enough information to help. The tracker could be planning to enjoy some downtime, for all we knew. Maybe he wanted to make us wait, make us stew. Ratchet up our anxiety. It seemed in line with his personality. I pictured him in an empty house somewhere random, watching old movies while we crawled out of our skins awaiting his return. This was exactly what we’d wanted to avoid.
The good news was that Alice was seeing him independently of us now. I could only hope that with continued familiarity, she would get a better line on him. I wondered whether there was any significance to the rooms she described that would tie back to us. Maybe it meant that we would eventually hunt him down to one of those places. If Alice got a better view of the surroundings, it was a possibility. That was a comforting thought.
I held my hand out for the phone, and Carlisle handed it over. “Can I speak to Bella, please?”
“Yes.” She turned her head away from the receiver. “Bella?”
I could hear Bella’s feet thudding as she ran awkwardly across the room, and if I hadn’t been so demoralized, I would have smiled.
“Hello?” she asked breathlessly.
“Bella.” Relief saturated my voice. The brief separation had already taken a toll.
“Oh, Edward,” she sighed. “I was so worried!”
Of course. “Bella, I told you not to worry about anything but yourself.” “Where are you?”
“We’re outside of Vancouver. Bella, I’m sorry—we lost him.” I didn’t want to tell her how he’d toyed with us. It would make her nervous that he’d gotten the upper hand so easily. It made me nervous. “He seems suspicious of us—he’s careful to stay just far enough away that I can’t hear
what he’s thinking. But he’s gone now—it looks like he got in a plane. We think he’s heading back to Forks to start over.” Well, we had no other theories, anyway.
“I know. Alice saw that he got away,” she said with perfect composure. “You don’t have to worry, though,” I assured her, though she didn’t
sound worried. “He won’t find anything to lead him to you. You just have to stay there and wait till we find him again.”
“I’ll be fine. Is Esme with Charlie?”
“Yes—the female has been in town. She went to the house, but while Charlie was at work. She hasn’t gone near him, so don’t be afraid. He’s safe with Esme and Rosalie watching.”
“What is she doing?”
“Probably trying to pick up the trail. She’s been all through the town during the night. Rosalie traced her through the airport.…” The airstrip to the south of town. Maybe we weren’t wrong about his intentions after all. I continued before Bella could notice my distraction. “All the roads around town, the school… she’s digging, Bella, but there’s nothing to find.”
“And you’re sure Charlie’s safe?” she demanded.
“Yes, Esme won’t let him out of her sight. And we’ll be there soon.” We were definitely headed there now. “If the tracker gets anywhere near Forks, we’ll have him.”
I started to move, loping south. Carlisle and Emmett followed suit. “I miss you,” she whispered.
“I know, Bella. Believe me, I know.” I couldn’t believe how diminished I felt apart from her. “It’s like you’ve taken half my self away with you.”
“Come and get it, then,” she suggested.
“Soon, as soon as I possibly can. I will make you safe first,” I vowed. “I love you,” she breathed.
“Could you believe that, despite everything I’ve put you through, I love you, too?”
“Yes, I can, actually.” It sounded like she was smiling as she spoke. “I’ll come for you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she promised.
It hurt to end the call, to disconnect from her again. But I was in a hurry now. I passed the phone back to Carlisle without looking, and then pushed my lope into a sprint. Depending on how difficult it was for the tracker to
locate fuel, we might actually be able to beat him back to Forks, if that was where he was going.
Carlisle and Emmett worked to keep up.
We were back in Forks in three and a half hours, taking the fastest route straight through the Salish Sea. We went directly to Charlie’s house, where Esme and Rosalie were on watch, Esme in the back of the house, and Rosalie in the tree in the front yard. Emmett went quickly to join her while Carlisle and I went to Esme.
Now that I was here to appreciate them, Rosalie was thinking bitter thoughts about how selfishly I was putting everyone’s lives in danger. I paid no attention to her.
Bella’s house was ominously quiet, though there were several lights on downstairs. I realized what was missing—the sound of a game from the TV in the living room. I found Charlie’s mind in its usual spot, sitting on the sofa, facing the dark TV. His thoughts were totally silent, as though he had gone numb. I winced, glad Bella didn’t have to see this.
It took only a few seconds of discussion, and then we scattered. Carlisle stayed with Esme, and I felt much better that he was there with her. Emmett and Rosalie did a sweep through the center of town and then searched the area around the airstrip, looking for an abandoned prop plane.
I ran east, following the redhead’s trail. I wouldn’t mind cornering her. But her scent only led into the Puget Sound. She wasn’t taking any chances. I swept the familiar Olympic Park on my way back to Charlie’s, just to see if the redhead had gone anywhere interesting, but she seemed to have
made a beeline for the Sound. She wasn’t the type to risk a confrontation.
Back at Bella’s house, I took over watch while Esme and Carlisle scouted north to see if the redhead had emerged from the water near Port Angeles and was trying to come at Charlie from another angle. I doubted it, but we had nothing better to do. If the tracker wasn’t coming back to Forks
—which seemed evident at this point—and the redhead had gone to meet him, then we would have to regroup and come up with a new plan. I hoped someone else had an idea, because my head was a blank.
It was nearly two-thirty in the morning when my phone buzzed quietly. I accepted the call without looking, expecting a report from Carlisle.
Alice’s voice erupted from the phone, trilling with speed.
“He’s coming here, he’s coming to Phoenix, if he’s not already here—I saw the second room again, and Bella recognized the sketch, it’s her mother’s house, Edward—he’s coming after Renée. He can’t know we’re here, but I don’t like Bella so close to him. He’s too slippery, and I can’t see him well enough. We’ve got to get her out of here, but somebody’s got to find Renée—he’s going to spread us too thin, Edward!”
I felt dizzy, dazed, though I knew it was an illusion. There was nothing wrong with my mind or my body. But the tracker had gone around me again, circling, always in my blind spot. Whether by design or by luck, he was about to be in the same place as Bella while I was fifteen hundred miles away from her.
“How long till he’s there?” I hissed. “Can you nail it down?” “Not perfectly, but I know it’s soon. No more than a few hours.”
Was he flying straight there? Had he been leading us farther away from her on purpose?
“None of you have gone near Renée’s house?”
“No. We’ve not set foot anywhere outside this hotel. We’re nowhere close to the house.”
It was too far to make running an efficient option. We’d have to fly. And a big plane was the fastest way.
“The first flight to Phoenix leaves Seattle at six-forty,” Alice told me, a step ahead. “You’ll need to cover up. It’s ludicrously sunny here.”
“We’ll leave Esme and Rosalie here again. The redhead won’t come near them. Get Bella ready. We’ll keep the same groups. Emmett, Carlisle, and I will take her somewhere far away, somewhere random, till we can figure out the next step. You find her mother.”
“We’ll be there when you land.” Alice hung up.
I started running, dialing Carlisle as I sprinted for Seattle. They’d have to catch up to me.
