On the seventh morning after leaving the Rhone River camp, Karina was up early, stirring up the fire and knocking brown ice from the coffee pot. At first she didn’t notice anything different about the camp, but then she heard a muffled noise. She glanced around and saw the weapons container lid was open.
“Uh oh,” she whispered.
The noise came again, and she looked toward the horses and saw something strange: A man’s arms were pulled around a tree, with his hands duct-taped together. She dropped the coffee pot and ran to the tree. It was Joaquin!
“What happened?” she asked as she pulled a strip of duct tape from his mouth.
“Lojab!”
“Sarge!” Karina yelled as she freed Joaquin’s hands.
Joaquin rubbed his wrists. “Me and Lojab had 2 a.m. guard duty. I never thought about watching out for
