Page 116 of Tracked
“And they just gave him the information?”
“Well ... yeah.” Calder winced. “The guy who owns the company is an amateur storm chaser and a huge fan of Callum’s, so when he explained why we needed the information, he sent over the delivery coordinates. There were two. One matched the Wilderness Within building, and the other was about another mile ahead on this road, but the compound is deeper into those woods.” He pointed out my window, catching my eyes on the swivel.
I sat up straighter. “How far?” I squinted like I’d be able to see it.
“Eight miles, so we have a bit of a hike.”
Thankfully, my coffee was only on the way to my mouth, not inside it, or I would’ve choked. “Eight miles?”
“This road is the last place the delivery truck could reach. I’m guessing the panels were off-loaded into Matthew’s Jeep or some kind of four-wheeler to get it to the compound buildings. Eden probably thought it isolated him, too. Controlling the final delivery.”
“Did one of Callum’s drones locate it?”
Calder gave a slow nod. “Last night.”
“I thought it was too risky with the lightning?”
The whiskers of his beard fluttered. “I made it worth his while to take the risk, so we could have answers,” he said, and then continued talking like I couldn’t read between the lines. I knew how expensive and custom that type of equipment was, so whatever Calder had promised to pay or reimburse if the drone got struck by a bolt of lightning had to have been significant.And he’d done it for me.
“And it was able to see—get images in the storm?”
“It was a thermal drone. They’re smaller and faster, and nighttime is ideal to pick up heat signatures and go unnoticed.” Calder paused when one of the tires spun in the mud, making us swerve for a split second before finding traction again. “Now that we have the location, he sent out another drone this morning for imaging. By the time we hike close, I’ll have an idea of what we’re looking at.”
“So, we go to the drop-off location and then hike to the compound?”
He frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Well, that was the plan.”
“Was ...” Ahead of us, a huge tree had fallen from the storm, the trunk spanning the width of the road.
Calder slowed and then angled his truck off the shoulder. “Looks like we’re hiking from here.”
Chapter 29
Calder
Rule #6: Information is as vital as water. Know your terrain, your target, and your limits before you set foot on a trail.
Eden’s Children had chosen the drop site with precision—a nondescript clearing where the unpaved forest service road ended in a turnaround. Beyond, there was nothing but eight miles of arbor-laden wilderness between the road and the compound.
“You okay?” I turned as soon as I heard her stumble. I frowned when she sank all her weight on her right foot for a second.
While I was glad that Lara and Colby wore the same size shoe, my sister’s hiking boots had been broken in for her, not for Lara, so our eight-mile trek was bound to cause some discomfort.
“Yeah. Fine. Just caught my foot on a rock.”Finehad a very broad definition, given how she limped a little on her next step. It wasn’t serious, but it still could’ve merited a break, had she wanted one. But if there was one thing Lara Crane never seemed to give herself, it was a break.
Not in school. Not when it came to taking care of her mom. Not when it came to her work. And not now, when all she wanted was to save her sister.
“I’m good, Wild Man,” she insisted, worried I’d slowed my pace because of her.
I wanted to insist we stop for a minute, but I held back. If she needed to stop, I wanted her to trust me enough to tell me. I wanted her to let me in, and to do that, I couldn’t keep her at arm’s length.
For as long as I could remember, that was how I’d kept the people I loved safe. By directing their safety from a distance, keeping them far enough away so I could never be distracted by my own feelings. But with Lara, just the thought of keeping her away from me was more dangerous than any other distraction.
We walked another quarter mile, her slightly uneven pace haunting mine over the rugged terrain.
“How do you know which way to go?” It wasn’t quite a request for a break, but I’d take the opening.
Slowing next to the nearest towering pine, I made sure we stood shaded from the high afternoon sun as I pulled off my pack. Sixty pounds—no more, no less—and everything we’d need to survive out here for weeks, rather than a single night or two, as was my plan.
