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Emmy, the park ranger

I stop my UTV at the edge of Delphine’s Grove. Inside the copse, the trees thin out, their dead limbs scattered like bones. Here, on the east side, the emerald canopy is thick and low, making it impossible to see what hides inside the trees. Or who.

I hop out of my car, scouring the terrain, plotting my next move. The wind stirs the branches, fanning them like arms. Otherwise, the grove feels alarmingly still, but it’s the stillness of prey, frozen and waiting. I know Travis is in there, on high alert. I lost sight of Cassie and the other woman. I don’t hear them or sense them here. Only Travis. And Travis isn’t prey. He’s John Smith, the man stalking the school group. The man who brought two sleeping bags to a reservation for one. The man who could hurt Cassie and her already injured friend if I don’t stop him.

Softly, so as not to alert him, I take a step toward the nearest pine. Step by step, I inch closer. My left foot crunches on dead twigs, and I freeze. Every cell in my body is attuned to my senses. The pepper of the pine. The crackle of the wind. The dewiness of dawn. The taste of violence in wait. When none of these sensations alert me to Travis, his potential movement, I unbutton my holster, disengage the safety, and take my first step into the woods.

Mona, the PTA mom

The wind makes it easy for us to plod along in silence. We keep trudging forward, toward the coast. A few hundred feet ahead, I see a reddish metal sign. A trail marker. It lists the path we’re on—Smuggler’s Road—and a shortcut through Delphine’s Grove. Cassie steers us down the path to the trees, which is hardly a path, just matted grass.

“No.” I panic. We need to stick to the main path.

“It’s okay. It will cut a third of a mile off. And it’ll give us a break from the wind.”

I try to argue with her, but she’s already guiding me toward a small cluster of trees nearby.

The trees grow larger as we near them, and I can see that it’s just a few large trees with dead branches on the ground. They look like pines with wide, flat tops. As we step around the first tree, something stops us cold. We both sense it. The presence of another person.

“Javi? Lei?” Cassie calls.

When no one responds, we walk a few steps farther, freezing when we see someone crouched beneath the limbs of a tree, huddled in a ball. Ahead, a woman gingerly steps along the trail, searching behind the thick trunks. Her hair’s in a sloppy bun, but she’s wearing a ranger jacket. This must be Emmy Carter. She’s the only female ranger working the island this weekend. I know. I checked. On her hip is a holster, her hand hovering over a gun.

Cassie and I take in the scene, frozen in fear. The man on the ground stares up at us. We both startle when he brings his index finger to his lips.

“Travis,” Cassie whispers. Her attention remains on the ranger as she approaches us, fingertips centimeters from the gun. Why would a ranger have a gun? Why would she be ready to use it? Cassie peers over at her brother, who mashes his index finger into his lips, demanding we stay quiet. Emmy’s eyes continue to roam the trees until they land on us.

“Have you seen a man up here?” she calls.

“Cassie,” Travis hisses as he slips around the tree, where he’s further hidden from Emmy’s view. I could call to Emmy, tell her where Travis is. A day ago, I would have done this without thinking. Karma. Justice. I don’t need to insert myself here. Whatever Travis has done, whatever reason Emmy Carter is pursuing him with a gun, he’s not going to get away with it.

Cassie is frozen, dumbfounded. Emmy Carter keeps approaching us. Her hand has moved away from her gun and looms at her side.

“Did you come across a man?” she asks again.

The branches rustle, causing us all to startle. Emmy rests her hand on her holster again and signals for me and Cassie to remain in place. She tiptoes toward the tree, watching as Cassie motions toward the sound, her brother beyond. Emmy pulls her gun out of its holster and aims it at the pile of dead trees.

She keeps her gun trained on the branches that are so still I wonder if Travis has somehow managed to escape. Emmy steps over a branch and angles herself between us and Travis.

“Sir, please come out now.”