The Viking's Rampage MC: Hard Riding

Chapter 2 Episode 2

As an independent contractor for the state of Arizona, I usually got a call for a missing person only after local police had searched and failed to locate them. That meant my searches turned gruesome more often than not. Finding missing people alive out in the Sonoran Desert became the shining beacon of hope I held onto. It got me through the bad days and recoveries of dead bodies. Without me and my two Search and Rescue canines they’d likely all die.

“Hello?”

“Seek. It’s Sheriff Winston. We need your help.” His voice was deep and weathered and his face popped up in my mind. He was older, in great shape, and had a mustache. He put me in mind of Sam Elliot.

“How long?” It was always my first question. How long had the person been missing for? I wished they would call me in immediately. It would raise the rate of live finds versus bodies, but they had a procedure they had to follow.

“Three hours.”

My eyebrows shot up and my spoon clattered into the bowl as I dropped it. Dread was like a leaden weight in my stomach. There was only one reason they would have called me after only three hours of someone being missing.

“It’s a six-year-old boy,” Tommy said, confirming my worst fears.

No one messed around when there was a child involved. “Where do I need to go?”

“Picacho Peak,” he said. “My guys have been searching for the last few hours. Parents said they noticed the child missing almost immediately, but they haven’t been able to locate him.”

“I’ll be there in forty minutes,” I told him. Despair for the parents was an ache deep in my heart. I wished I could get there sooner, but I had to grab my supplies, load up my dogs, and it was still a bit of a drive from where I lived in Marana. At least I wasn’t deep in the heart of Tucson. Marana was located on the northern fringe of the city. Sometimes it was a blessing and other times a curse when a search was happening south of the city. Today it would save me time. Picacho Peak was north of me.

We hung up without another word. Tommy Winston and I had been working together for eight years and we both knew the drill by now. He’d been one of the first law enforcement officers that’d given me a chance when I’d stepped up and approached the local police departments about helping with Search and Rescue. I’d been twenty-two at the time and had been laughed out of more police stations than I cared to admit.

Now, they all clamored for me when they needed help. The only agency I didn’t work with was Border Patrol. They had their own canines and hundreds of agents available for their own search teams. The local police and Sheriffs had far fewer resources. Not to mention the Border Patrol didn’t deal with US Citizens as often. They had a different mission. And the feds out here weren’t very keen on independent contractors.

That was fine by me. It left me available to help local law enforcement and the people of my city. I moved around my home in quick, efficient movements, grabbing my Camelback and filling it with water. A Camelback was a must in the desert. It was a small backpack with a three-liter water bladder in it and pockets on the front. Enough to keep me hydrated for a few hours and to stock some essentials inside.

I double checked my equipment once a week and again anytime I went out on a search, so I knew I had everything I’d need inside the small pack. I just needed to let the bladder inside the largest pouch fill with fresh, clear water. I didn’t bother with ice, it would melt before it was really useful.

I filled the canteens hanging from the webbing on the front of the camelback. Checking my phone’s weather app, I saw it was supposed to get to one hundred and five today. Too hot for a small child to be lost and alone.

Shoving the thought out of my head, I screwed the lid on the bladder and zipped up my pack. I grabbed all of my gear and went to stow it in my truck.

Auron was watching me from his bed with dark, solemn eyes. He’d known the minute he’d heard the second phone ring what it meant. He knew the difference in the ring tones. I swear this dog was more human than canine. He was waiting to see if he’d get to play today. At eight years old, I was beginning to transition him out of work and he was getting close to retirement.

The only thing I was waiting on was the puppy to finish his training. Jecht was ‘the puppy’ and at two years old his training was almost complete. The two Malinois couldn’t be any more different and it often amused me. Auron’s attitude closely resembled the video game character I’d named him after. Steady, wise, stalwart, and kind.

Jecht was a goofball and matched his video game name as well. His energy and puppy brain usually drove his actions and he made a fool of himself more often than not. Both dogs were phenomenal at their jobs, though.

I loaded one, then the other into their crates in the back of my truck and started the drive. The speed limit wasn’t even a passing thought as I floored it, moving down I-10 at a breakneck speed. Tommy would have given DPS a head’s up. If they got behind my rig they’d soon see the license plate and let me go. Most of the DPS officers knew my vehicle anyway and didn’t pull me over. I never took advantage of the favor and always stayed at the speed limit unless I was responding to a missing person. It was our silent agreement.

By the time I pulled into the Picacho State Park camping area, my heart was beating a fast tempo against my ribs. Fear and exhilaration were riding me hard. I had to pause and take a deep breath. Talking to parents of missing children was always the hardest scenario and I could see where they were standing near Tommy.

The woman’s face was as pale as a sheet and she was wringing her hands together. I couldn’t imagine what she was going through right now. Kids were rascals, they always seemed to be able to slip away at a moment’s notice. This happened far more than I liked, but the lucky thing was that children often didn’t wander far.

I got out of the truck and began preparing my things. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tommy say something to the parents and then come over.

“Thanks for coming so quickly, Seek.” His smile was dimmed by worry. No one ever wanted to get the call that a child was missing.

“No problem, Tommy,” I said, returning the smile with one of my own. My name was actually Jamie, but no one ever called me that at work. They’d nicknamed me Seek, because I played Hide and Seek for a living.

“Who are you taking out today?” he asked.

“Auron.” I didn’t miss the relief in his eyes. Jecht was an amazing dog and he had a long and successful career ahead of him, but Auron was proven. In a time where a young boy’s life hung in the balance we all wanted the veteran out there searching.

“Can I speak to them?” I asked.

“Of course. Her name is Susie and his is Dash.”

I paused and frowned at Tommy. “His name is what?”

Tommy chuckled. “He’s a part of a motorcycle club. Apparently, they were out here celebrating a brother coming home with a camping trip. They’re almost all military veterans and said they like to be out in the desert. Too damn hot out here for me, but to each their own.”

I nodded and peeked over to where the parents were standing. Now that Tommy wasn’t there with them, a group of huge, muscular men had circled around the couple. I swallowed as nerves took flight in my belly. They were an intimidating group and suddenly I didn’t want to approach at all.

I locked down the feelings and strode over to the group. They turned as one to watch me approach. Tommy caught up to me and introduced me as we came forward.

“Everyone this is Seek… Uh, Jamie Simmons. She’s the Search and Rescue expert I called in.”

I saw doubt on their faces, but everyone murmured a subdued hello. Turning to the parents, I gave them a friendly smile. “I’m here to help find your son.”

Out of the corner of my eye one of the men caught my attention. He was older, with a little bit of silver in his hair and short beard. He had bright blue eyes that harbored an intense stare that was glued to me. It stirred unwelcomed feelings inside of me. I needed to concentrate and this burly biker was breaking it. Irritation flared to life as I struggled to ignore him. He wasn’t even doing anything but listening, but it was distracting.

I ran through what my procedure was, trying to give them comfort. “What’s your son’s name?”

“Dex,” the father responded.

“How long has he been missing?”

“Four hours and seven minutes,” the mother replied, desperation barely contained.

I’d bet my next meal she knew the exact number of seconds that’d passed as well. A sick feeling coated my stomach. I needed to find this boy. Unfortunately, I had to do this part of my routine before I could start my search. “What’s been done to try to locate him?”

“We have various former military members here and we all went out to cut sign to see if we could find him,” another man spoke up.

I pulled out my small notebook and took down notes. ‘Cut sign’ was slang that trackers used to look for signs of footprints. If they were using the lingo it meant they knew what they were doing. That was good. It also meant that pros hadn’t found the boy yet. That was bad. “What’s your name?” I asked the man who’d spoken up.

“Lockout.”

Glancing up, I blinked at him for a moment before I noted it down. You’d think with a nickname like Seek I’d be used to oddball names, but that wasn’t the case.

“Hush got the farthest on the trail before he lost the sign,” Lockout informed me as he pointed to the large man who’d caught my notice earlier.

Fantastic. The word was snarky in my mind, but I wasn’t sure why. That meant I was going to have to have him show me where he’d lost the trail. What was it about this man that instantly put me on edge? It wasn’t that I was scared to go off alone with him, just the opposite, something was drawing me to him. I didn’t care for that. There wasn’t time for whatever interest had been awakened by him.

These men clearly had skills, which meant they’d be useful to me in my search. I didn’t like to start at the beginning if the search teams had found the tracks of the person further down the trail. There were so many hard packed areas out in the desert though, that it made it hard to follow. Many people thought of deserts being full of nothing but sand, but the monsoon rains often packed that sand down into hard terrain and a full grown man's footprints wouldn’t appear, let alone a child’s.

“Tommy?” I asked.

“My officers didn’t get as far as these men did,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “Trail just disappears.”

“Did you mark it?”

“I did,” came the gruff, rumbling reply. His voice wrapped around me, flowing like thick, smooth honey. Why was a southern drawl so sexy?

My eyes locked with Hush’s and the breath caught in my throat. He really was drop dead gorgeous. Mentally, I berated myself. There wasn’t time to be drooling over a sexy biker. Especially since the entire crowd of people surrounding me were sick with worry and watching my every move.