Betrayed by Blood

Thanksgiving weekend was just around the corner, and as an intern ranger, I was preparing for what my supervisor, Mark Thorne, called a "mandatory exploratory survey" to Devil's Gulch.

But this seemingly routine assignment was a meticulously planned death trap, set by the man I worked for and the sister I loved.

The rock bit into my back, a sharp pain, then nothing as my climbing rope went slack, sabotaged, as I plummeted into the cold darkness of the crevasse.

Mark's chilling, empty smile was the last thing I saw above me on the narrow ledge, my sister Emily looking away, silent, complicit, as I fought for air.

Killed.

By my own supervisor and the only family I had left, betrayed for reasons I couldn't comprehend as my life vanished in an instant.

Then I jolted awake, not in a freezing abyss, but in my familiar bunk, the comforting scent of pine from my cheap park-issued mattress filling the air.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I touched my face, my arms, realizing there were no broken bones, no blood.

The calendar on the wall screamed at me: three days before that fateful Thanksgiving trip to Devil's Gulch.

I was alive.

It was a memory, vivid, terrifying, but now it was also a warning.

A second chance.

This time, I wouldn't be the naive one; I would protect myself first, and if I could, protect my sister from him and from herself.

I could still stop this.

And I would.

The rock bit into my back, a sharp pain, then nothing.

Thanksgiving weekend. Mark Thorne, my supervisor, called it a "mandatory exploratory survey."

Devil's Gulch. A place nobody went.

My sister, Emily, tagged along. She wanted adventure.

Deep in the canyon, Mark said a rockslide cut off our route.

He pointed. "No signal here. Standard radios are useless."

Then he smiled, that charming, empty smile.

"But my personal sat phone works. And I have extra supplies."

He named a price. A high one. For each of us.

Emily was already on his side. She always resented me, my rules, my worry since Mom and Dad died.

She created a distraction, a shout, a sudden run towards a side path.

Or maybe Mark told her to.

I went after her. "Emily! Stop!"

Then Mark was there. Above me on the narrow ledge.

He didn't say anything. He just moved fast.

My climbing rope went slack. I felt the carabiner slip. Sabotaged.

I looked up. His face was the last thing I saw.

Then I was falling.

Darkness. Cold. The crevasse swallowed me.

I jolted awake.

My own bunk. The familiar scent of pine from the cheap park-issued mattress.

Sunlight streamed through the small window of the intern cabin.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

The fall. The cold. Mark. Emily.

It was a memory, vivid, terrifying.

I touched my face, my arms. No broken bones. No blood.

I looked at the calendar on the wall.

Three days.

Three days before the Thanksgiving trip to Devil's Gulch.

I was alive.

A second chance. The thought hit me like a physical blow.

I could stop it. I had to stop it.

"Sarah? Can I come with you on the Devil's Gulch survey?"

Emily stood in the doorway of my cabin, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Her eyes were bright, eager. Just like before.

The words caught in my throat.

The memory of her, looking away as Mark prepared to kill me, was too fresh.

"No, Emily." My voice was flat, cold. Colder than I intended.

Her face fell. "What? Why not? You said I could if I finished my chores."

"That specific canyon system, Devil's Gulch, it's... dangerous. Extremely dangerous. More than they let on."

"You're just being overprotective again!" she flared. "You always do this! Ever since Mom and Dad..."

I saw it then. A new smartwatch on her wrist. Sleek, expensive.

"Where did you get that?" I asked, my voice sharp.

Emily flushed. "I bought it. With my savings."

Savings? She barely had any.

Mark. It had to be Mark. He was already working on her.

"You're not going, Emily. That's final."

She glared at me, tears welling in her eyes. "I hate you!"

She spun around and ran out.

The smartwatch. The unusual insistence.

It wasn't just a kid wanting adventure.

He was already pulling her strings.

My resolve hardened. This time, I wouldn't be the naive one.

I had to protect myself first. And if I could, protect her from him, and from herself.