Chapter 1 — Three Whistle Blasts
Alex stopped walking.
The first whistle blast echoed somewhere below the mountain overlook.
Sharp.
Distant.
Then came another.
And a third.
Alex turned toward the railing.
“Hello?”
No answer.
He stepped closer to the edge.
Far below, something bright red was caught against a cluster of mountain laurel.
A jacket.
Small enough to belong to a child.
Alex immediately pulled out his phone.
“There’s someone below Eagle Ridge Overlook. I heard three whistle blasts.”
Other hikers began gathering.
Within minutes, Ranger Cole arrived carrying a radio and rescue pack.
Alex pointed.
“Down there.”
Cole looked over the barrier.
Then toward a narrow wooden gate several yards away.
The gate blocked access to an old maintenance trail.
A red sign read:
TRAIL CLOSED — UNSTABLE SLOPE.
Cole immediately noticed something wrong.
The gate was open.
He walked toward it.
Examined the latch.
No broken wood.
No damaged chain.
No sign that anyone forced it.
Cole crouched.
“Someone opened this.”
A woman nearby whispered:
“Maybe the child did.”
Cole shook his head.
The latch sat almost five feet above the ground.
It required pulling a metal pin while lifting the gate slightly.
A small child would struggle to operate it.
Then Alex noticed one man quietly moving away from the crowd.
Middle-aged.
Gray hiking jacket.
Green backpack.
His hands were covered in mud.
So were his gloves.
The man saw Alex looking.
He quickly pulled off the gloves and tried stuffing them into his jacket pocket.
Cole stood.
“Sir.”
The man stopped.
“Don’t go anywhere.”
Everyone looked toward him.
Cole pointed toward the muddy gloves.
“Have you been below the barrier?”
The man’s face tightened.
“I can explain.”
Alex looked from the gloves to the open gate.
Then another whistle echoed from the mountainside.
Three blasts again.
Cole immediately spoke into his radio.
“We have a confirmed distress signal.”
He looked toward the man.
“And you’re going to explain very quickly.”