Free Alphas in the Wild by Ann Gimpel Page B

stakes were too high. Jake tucked Mitch’s arm back into the bag, straightened, and started out the door. She called him back. “We have plenty of warm things in here. HQ said we could have a fire—”
    Jake’s braying laughter drowned out the rest of her words. “Damn straight of them,” he sputtered after he could talk again. “Jesus Christ himself couldn’t get anything to burn out there. ’Sides, even if the snow let up, wind’s brutal.”
    A chortle bubbled up from somewhere deep in Moira, followed by another. She tried to hold them in, but failed. Soon she was howling just like Jake had been. The whole situation was black humor at its finest. The storm, the birds, the lost trail crew. Permission to light a fire under impossible conditions.
    “I’ll be fine, really I will. Got to get some air,” she managed. Moira stepped outside. Snow blew in her face, effectively blinding her. She raised her hands to wipe it away and realized she’d left her gloves in the tent.
    Christ! I’m really losing it.
    Feeling disgusted actually had a salutary effect. The craziness left as quickly as it had come. She inhaled deeply, letting the chilly air clear her mind.
    Just before she let herself back inside, she heard a raven caw, and her blood congealed in her veins.

Chapter Six
    T im dug through the EMT kit, a nearby candle lantern providing a thin beam of light. “Who the fuck packed this? An extra from Catch 22?” He held up a steri-pack that contained an intravenous needle and another with tubing. “What good are these without saline?”
    “I think they only pack that when they expect to have a paramedic along.”
    “What are you? Doesn’t the Park Service require you to have some medical training?” Judging from the bitten-off tone of his words, he was having a hard time controlling his frustration.
    “Yes, but I’m only an EMT with a Wilderness First Responder certification.”
    “Oh.” He sucked in a breath. “Sorry I was short with you. I might be able to save this man, if I had what I needed.”
    Turning away from her, he extracted a tube and squeezed it into Mitch’s mouth. It was probably the glucose paste they used for diabetics. The stove was going, so she pinned the door flap open a few inches for better airflow. Hopefully, the raven she’d heard wouldn’t take it as an invitation. Tim pulled poly bottles out of Mitch’s sleeping bag, refilled them with hot water, and tucked them back next to the comatose man.
    Now that she had time to think, Moira couldn’t figure out what had happened to the rest of the trail crew. Only some of them were newbies. Everyone else would’ve known to turn tail and run once it started snowing hard. Which meant they should have been back hours ago. It was only about six miles to the Muir Trail Junction. If what Jake told her was accurate, the crew had been working just a couple of miles from camp. For an ugly moment, she pictured the dead mule and wondered if Ryan was deranged enough to send his bird hit squad after her people. It made sense, in a sick sort of way, for him to pick off anyone who might help her protect herself.
    She swallowed hard, fury battling with horror. If he’d really done something like that, she’d see him hung from the nearest yardarm.
    “Goddammit. No, you don’t,” Tim yelled. Moira twirled to look at him. Tim pounded on Mitch’s thin chest. He tilted his chin, fished a plastic protector out of the EMT kit, and started rescue breathing.
    “Need help?” Jake was by the cot in an instant.
    Tim eyed the other man. “Do you know how to do this?”
    Jake shrugged. “Sort of. We all had to take a basic first aid course to be Park Service workers.”
    “Okay. You do the breathing. I’ll do chest compressions. He looks like he has osteoporosis. Got to be careful. If I hit him too hard, I’ll break a bone.”
    Moira bit her lower lip until she tasted blood. Mitch had been close to worthless on two other crews she’d overseen, but