Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
We didn’t even bother setting up the second tent the next night.
My anxiety spiked when we finally reached the ranger station. I knew I would have to talk about what happened that night. The ranger working the front desk looked horrified at the sight of my dad’s bruised face, and her reaction only intensified as we told her the highlights of our story.
We might have left a few things out…
The ranger called an ambulance, and we were taken to the nearest hospital. There were more questions there, as doctors examined our wounds and park police from the Investigative Service Branch of the National Park Service showed up. Dad’s wounds were worse than mine. I managed to get out of this with just a few scrapes and bruises, mostly from my naked run through the woods. Even my altercation with Duke on the tower hadn’t resulted in more than a split lip that had pretty much healed on the hike back to the station.
We told the park police what had happened, including the parts about them forcing us to have sex with each other. I knew they were going to want to collect evidence from our bodies and I didn’t want to risk them finding my dad’s semen and thinking the worst.
I was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of people fluttering around us, taking my dad’s vitals and asking us the same questions, over and over again. Dad had to stay in the hospital for a few days because the doctors were concerned about his head wound, plus dehydration and exhaustion. I slept in a chair beside his hospital bed. No matter how hard he tried to convince me to get a hotel room, I refused to be apart from him. I was still scared, even though I knew that the men who had hurt us were all dead. The park police had recovered their bodies within a day of our report—
Well, most of their bodies. Apparently, all they could find of Martin was a single hiking boot floating in a hot spring.
Strangely, I didn’t start to really feel ashamed until I saw the looks on the hospital staff’s faces. How disgusting, they must have thought. How traumatic to be forced to have sex with your own father. The fact that I refused to leave his bedside seemed to confuse them. I saw more than one of the nurses giving him side-eye, as if they didn’t believe he could have physically performed the act unless he wanted to hurt me. Never mind that he was also a victim.
After four days, the hospital finally released him, and the park police gave us the okay to return home, warning us that they might call if they had further questions. At first, it had seemed as if they didn’t fully believe our story. But something my dad overheard the men saying about other victims in Death Valley had helped point the investigators to another unsolved murder case, plus a slew of similar disappearances in parks around the country.
The thought that we could have met a similar fate if my dad hadn’t done what was necessary to save us gave me the strength to endure the looks of pity as I dozed in a chair beside the man who had fought and killed for me.
We made the eight-hour drive back to Washington in my dad’s car, arriving in Walla Walla just as the sun was going down.
That first night, I tried to sleep in my bedroom, but I tossed and turned. Every bump in the night was Duke trying to break in. Every shadow, Zeb’s ghost, coming to choke me again. I knew they weren’t really there, but it still didn’t feel right to be by myself, not when my dad was asleep on the other side of the wall. I tiptoed into his bedroom, the only place where I felt safe. I slipped under the covers and slept in his arms.
Nothing else happened between us that night. We were both exhausted and emotionally raw.
The next morning, over breakfast, he suggested that we both look into seeing a therapist to help us work through our trauma. After telling our story a dozen times to the police, I wasn’t ready to relive it all again so soon. But I promised I’d think about it because I knew my dad was worried about me.
“It would be good for you to talk to someone before you leave for school,” he said.
My piece of toast froze halfway to my mouth. On the long drive home, I decided for myself that I wasn’t ready to jump into full-time coursework, especially if it meant living so far away from my dad.
“Actually, I was thinking I’d defer until next semester, and maybe look for a school closer to home.”
“Why would you want to do that?” He squinted at me as if I were a complicated logic problem.