The phone rang at Nick's parole officer's desk. It was a little after ten in the morning and the officer had been filling out paperwork about his missing parolee. He lowered his legs from the filing cabinet, where he'd had them propped, and stared at the phone. A thrill of hope that the caller might just be Nick ran through him - after all, he'd come to be quite fond of Nick. He didn't reallywant to be the officer that hauled him in and finally locked him behind bars. He reached for the phone, fingers tingling.
"Officer Mead speaking."
"Hello... er..." An uncertain, young male voice filtered through the phone. "Officer Mead. Are you - are you Nick Carter's - er - parole - um - officer?"
Officer Mead felt a rush of frustration. The press had been bugging him about Nick Carter since the story had released that he'd been arrested and put on probation. "I have no comments," he said pointedly and was just about to hang up when the voice rushed on -
"I'm Baylee Littrell, Nick's friend's son."
The officer hesitated. "Yes? Is everything all right?"
Baylee got quiet a moment.
"Do you know where he is?" Officer Mead pressed.
"Don't you?" Baylee asked, his voice obviously incredulous.
Officer Mead hesitated. "Confidentiality laws," the officer muttered.
"I'm not really looking for Nick anyway," Baylee replied, "Mostly just my sister."
"Big fan is she?" Officer Mead asked dryly.
Baylee chuckled, "No... Well, see..." he paused, and Officer Mead got the feeling that he was trying to work out how to word his response. Finally Baylee said, "Have you seen the news?"
"The news?" In all honesty, Officer Mead had spent the day before with his children and had been just too tuckered to look at any news programs. This morning, he'd leafed through a three-day old newspaper while drinking his coffee, and he'd come into work hurried after hitting a traffic jam on the interstate. "Why?" he asked without directly admitting he hadn't been keeping up with current events. Somehow a clueless cop didn't seem... right.
"My mother's leveling claims that my sister, Bree, was kidnapped," Baylee responded, "She was last seen with Nick... But I know he didn't kidnap her, Nick's not like that. But -- I do need to find them."
Officer Mead was staring at the wall, shock plainly written all over his face. "Kidnapping?" he mustered after a long moment.
"He didn't do it," Baylee persisted.
The office seemed to spin around Mead. "The last I knew," he said, "They were northbound to Colorado."
"Colorado?!" Baylee exclaimed.
"Boulder City, to be exact."
Baylee's voice crossed the line in a relieved tone - "Ohhhhh --"
"He didn't call last night," Mead confessed.
"Thank you!" Baylee's tone was practically euphoric now.
"You're welc--" but Officer Mead stopped there, because Baylee had already hung up the phone. Mead stared at the humming receiver for a moment, returned it to the cradle, then lifted his paperwork on Nick. He stared down at it, the fullness of what Baylee had just told him sinking in. Nick had kidnapped a girl?
Mead's fingers flew over his computer keyboard a moment later, opening the brightly colored website for Pop Stuff Online.
Bree stood on the edge, peering down into the watery misty air below. The white, swirling mass met the base rock and shattered the glassy prism of surface violently. She clutched the harness in her fingertips and felt a light sheen of sweat moisten the palms of her hands. She drew a deep breath, and stepped forward.
The world flashed before her - images, pictures, sounds. It was like a blazing swirl of color, a vortex she was being swallowed alive by. Everything real seemed so out of focus while every dream she'd ever had seemed to come sharpy into focus. The rope tightened and she bobbed like a cork at its end point, her body swinging loosely through the air.
Her heartbeat rang loudly through her veins, like it was singing... and the image of the deer filled her mind. She smiled, a warm sensation coming over her as she watched the deer coming closer through the woods, only to become her father, who wrapped his arms around her and...
"Bree, wake up."
Her eyes snapped open.
She was laying on the ground, leaning against her pack, under a pine tree. Nick was hovering over her, a bemused smile on his face. Bree realized she'd been asleep, that she'd been dreaming. She'd taken the plunge in reality just a few moments after Nick had - encouraged to go second by Pat and Nick himself, and had gone and she'd fallen asleep under the tree, waiting for the others to go.
It had long been a defensive mechanism for Bree to fall asleep when she was nervous.
"Sorry," she muttered, wiping her eyes. She realized as the backs of her hands swiped them that she had tears pooling. She looked away, focusing on her hands as she pushed herself up from the ground so Nick wouldn't notice. Bree's heart rate was still high, she could still see the deer, still see her father. It had felt so real.
"It's okay, Pat just wanted to head out is all..." Nick replied. He smiled, "So...how do you feel? You did it." He motioned to the footbridge.
Bree smiled, "I got to admit, it was pretty cool. I still can't picture my dad doing that, though."
Nick hesitated. "Well..." he said quietly - guiltily.
"Well what?" Bree eyed him. With his continued hesitation, her jaw dropped. "Nick," she said in an accusatory tone, "My father didn't do it, did he?"
Nick's cheeks reddened. "Well, he didn't exactly, no," he admitted.
Bree raised an eyebrow.
"He actually sat in this very spot while me and Amanda did it. He - he got about a quarter of the way across the bridge then bolted back to land like a rocket was atttached to his behind," Nick laughed in spite of himself, then bit his lip.
Bree shook her head.
A smirk spread across Nick's face. "But you did it."
Bree laughed, "You're sneaky."
FWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!
Pat's whistle sliced the air from right behind Nick and he jumped, startled. Bree laughed more heartily. Pat's voice followed the shrill ring of her whistle. "Okay group," she shouted, "Let's saddle up and move out!" She shouldered her own huge bag and stood waiting for everyone else to do the same.
Nick let out a sigh, then offered his hand to Bree to help her stand up. "She's a slave driver," he hissed under his breath to Bree, who giggled.
Once their packs were shouldered, the group herded on through the woods until they came to a steep wooden staircase that had been built running down the height of the gorge wall. With Pat in the lead, the group moved down the stairs. Nick followed along behind Bree, looking around at the trees and various other plants that lived in the forest around them.
When they reached the bottom, Pat led the way along a trail that led to the river and the group unshouldered the packs to help inflate the rafts for the final leg of the journey. Nick found himself thinking absently thinking about this portion of the adventure last time he'd done this. Brian had fallen out of the raft and Nick, overcome with worry, had leaped into the water after him...
The water had been icy cold, the kind of icy cold that stung and made every muscle ache and recoil. Nick had been forcibly reminded of the time that they'd played BSB on Ice backstage and had dared each other to stuff their faces into an ice cooler with cans of Pepsi and Mountain Dew floating around in it. The water had enveloped him though, not just his face. He'd swam to Brian, fighting against the strong current, and caught hold of him. They'd waited for Pat to pull them back aboard and Brian had been shaking, breathing in short bursts. "It's okay, Frick," Nick had said in his best friend's ear as Pat made their way toward the Boys. "I got'cha. It's all good..."
Brian had smiled, a weak smile but a smile nonetheless, and replied, "You always do, Frack."
Now, Nick looked at Bree, who was staring out at the river and he felt his heart tighten. In a way, he thought, I still do.
Amanda parked in the lot next to the waiting shuttle bus. She leaned against the trunk of her car and waited. She wondered what he'd say, what he'd do. She wondered what she'd say, how she'd explain what had happened, why she was here. She wondered if he'd heard about the accusations flying through the news about him and Bree, if he'd be mad. She kicked at the ground with the toe of her sneaker, nervous excitement building up inside of her. A part of her couldn't wait for them to arrive back to Lost Paddle, the other part dreaded the instant when he first laid eyes on her.
Despite history's track record, the ride back to Lost Paddle had gone quite smoothly, though Nick had insisted on keeping Bree very close to him the entire way. She'd looked around and appreciated the smells and sights and sounds of the river excursion. When they'd reached the Lost Paddle landing site, Bree felt a pang of sadness jolt her. It had been the most amazing experience she'd ever had, and a part of her almost didn't want it to end. She wondered if this was it, if now Nick was going to bring her home and their adventure was going to end.
At the landing point, Pat and Nick and a couple other guys jumped out of the rafts and pulled them ashore. Bree and the others in the group climbed out and they stood collectively on the beach. Pat stood importantly to one side, her voice carrying over the group, "Thank you for visiting us today and we hope you enjoyed your excursion... Please visit us again sometime."
They all carried the equipment into the Lost Paddle building, shedding packs and tents and things until all the company's stuff had been returned to them. Pat thumped Nick on the back enthusiastically. "Hope you had a good experience, Carter," she said in her booming voice. A flash travelled through Nick's mind - a moment sixteen years ago when he and Brian had laughed talking about balls and whether Pat had them.
"Thanks," he said. "Great; even better when nobody falls out of the raft," he joked.
"Sorry about your friend," Pat replied. "He was a good egg." She nodded firmly. "Too bad the other one couldn't make it," she added.
"Yeah, well... she works in Boston now."
Pat gave Nick a funny look and opened her mouth to say something, when a girl called out, "Patricia, you have an urgent call on hold."
Pat nodded and turned back to Nick, "Have a safe trip; nice meeting you," she added nodding at Bree. She turned away.
"You're right," Bree admitted as Pat shoved her way to the desk, "She was a lot scarier than she seemed at first."
Nick pantomimed blowing a whistle, and Bree let out a stream of laughter.
