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sand.  She had freed herself?
    Standing up
as fast as I could, I looked around, failing to see her.  Forcing my feet
to move, I clambered to the top of the embankment.  Spinning through a
slow circle, I shielded my eyes from the wind and rain with my hand.  The
landscape was bleak, nothing more than sand, rock and scrub in every
direction.  And there was no movement.
    Turning back
to the water I tried to look for Katie, but it was still dark.  All I
could tell was that the river was very straight.  Too straight to be
natural.  It must have been a flood control channel for the water coming
out of Mountain Home. 
    Perhaps the
underground reservoir was full and it was being diverted?  Or maybe there
wasn’t a reservoir and Titus had repeated a rumor.  Regardless, the water
was running fast.  If Katie had gone back in, she’d be miles away by
now.  But I doubted she had.
    There was
still enough intelligence in there for her to loosen the sling loop and slip
her hand out.  That meant it was very doubtful that she’d make a decision
as bad as going back into the water.  And I was still alive! 
    I’d been out
cold, but she hadn’t attacked or killed me.  Why not?  Were there
still some memories in there?  Enough to override what seemed to be an uncontrollable
urge to kill?
    I’m
generally a pretty logical guy.  I don’t normally fall prey to unfounded
theories or suppositions, but the faint hope that Katie wasn’t completely gone
pushed all logic aside.  Right then and there I accepted the idea that she
was still capable of love and reason, otherwise why was I not a rotting
corpse.  Now I just had to find her so I could help her.
    Shivering in
the biting wind, water dripping from my clothing, I tried to think about how I
was going to go about locating my wife.  Where would she have gone and why
had she run off?  It didn’t make sense, but not much made sense at the
moment.  But how the hell was I going to track her?
    Tracks! 
That’s it!  Stumbling back down the embankment, momentum overcame my
exhausted body and I wound up falling and splashing into the water. 
Freshly soaked and shivering harder, I crawled to the point where I had dragged
her earlier.  The sand was wet and had taken prints that were easy to see,
even in the near darkness.
    It was a
jumble in the area where both of us had lain, but as I cast around I found a
clear set of prints heading up and over the embankment.  Slowly getting to
my feet, I followed them as best I could.  I stumbled and tripped over a
rock as I reached the crest.  Getting back up, I finally thought to check
for weapons. 
    I wasn’t
surprised that only the Kukri, sheathed at the small of my back, was still
attached to my body.  No rifle.  No pistol.  No Ka-Bar
knife.  Several full magazines were still secure in my vest, but without a
rifle they were about as useful as a rock.  Almost dumping them to shed
weight, I thought better of it at the last moment and began stumbling along the
path my wife had taken.
    Moving slow,
I followed her weaving trek.  The wind was getting stronger, working in
concert with my drenched clothing to sap my body heat.  I could feel
myself growing weaker with each step, but I stayed focused on the trail and
kept putting one foot in front of the other.
    I rounded a
low hill and had gone another fifty yards before realizing the path had
suddenly straightened.  Had she decided where to go or seen
something?  Standing there, I stared at the prints in the sand.  I
was so cold I couldn’t feel any part of my body, but it seemed as if the
shivering had stopped.  That was good.  Right?
    Walking
again, I trudged along following Katie’s trail.  My head was bent to look
at the ground, all of my energy focused on not loosing my way.  One foot
at a time, I kept going, failing to notice that the rain that had been falling
had turned to snow.  Wind drove it against the side of my face.  Where
it began to stick, I actually