“Granite!” Echo came off the porch, running to her animal.

“Echo!” Peyton ran after her. “Stop!”

Echo raised her gun again, searching for a shot. “He’s not going down!”

Suddenly, the bear fell on all fours and fled. Bellowing, scared, possibly hurt, but most importantly, away from her dogs.

Echo grabbed Granite before he could follow. “Here!” She handed him to Peyton, who’d run out behind her, the light from her headlamp illuminating the worst.

Holly lay in the snow, bleeding, her leg broken. A gash in her side flayed open her skin, and she was crying loudly.

No, no—

Echo shoved the gun into Peyton’s hand, then whipped off her fleece and wrapped it around the dog. She picked up the animal, trying not to struggle under the weight. Holly, miraculously, didn’t fight her. “Help me get her inside.”

Peyton followed her in, the capture gun trained on the darkness.

Echo put Holly down on the floor. Blood saturated her beautiful white fur, and she whined, in serious pain. A flap of her skin had been half sliced from her body, and her leg hung, bloody and broken. Echo pushed the skin back over the wound, holding it there. “Get my pack. There’s a sedative there and first aid gear. But we need a rescue flight in here, pronto.”

Peyton grabbed the pack and brought it to Echo.

“Hold her wound.”

Peyton took over for Echo, who then pulled out a syringe and a bottle of Novocain. “This won’t be enough but at least it’ll help.” She drew out the liquid and inserted it near the wound, another shot on the other side. Holly continued to whimper.

Echo finished administering the sedative.

“She’s starting to clot,” Peyton said.

“She needs ice on the wound. I’ll get that. You get on the radio to Copper Mountain and see if they can send a chopper.”

Peyton was digging through her pack, one hand on Holly, as Echo grabbed a bag and headed outside. She packed snow into the bag, then returned to the cabin and set the bag on the wound.

Holly whimpered under hand. Echo stroked her neck. “Hang in there, sweetie.”

Granite crept up beside Holly, nudging her with his nose.

Peyton was still trying to connect to base.

Please. Echo just couldn’t bear to put Holly down. Not yet. Not if she still had a chance.

Echo picked up the gun, reloaded it, and headed back outside. The dogs were still on alert, barking, growling. She went to each one, knelt and soothed them, talking in low tones, running her hands along their bodies. Maverick’s was taut, every muscle corded and ready. He growled, his eyes focused on the darkness.

“He’s gone, buddy. And he’ll be asleep for a while. Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”