Page 57 of Tracked
A strangled cry tore me from sleep.My strangled cry.
Panic seized my pounding chest. If Calder heard—if I woke him again with my nightmares—I wouldn’t be able to escape his questions this time.
But there was no waking him ... because there was nohim. I looked at the bed beside me, the blanket practically pristine, and suspected he’d never been here at all.
Was it because of earlier? When he’d stopped me from falling, my heart had burst into my throat. Wild beats. Flooding heat. Rampant need. When was the last time I’d felt something like that? Something so consuming. So controlling. So aching.When had Ieverfelt something like that?
And why wasn’t I surprised that it was with him?
“Calder?” I whispered loudly when he didn’t appear after a minute.
Maybe he’d gone outside or to the bathroom. Maybe I should do the same.
There had to be a curfew exception to use the bathroom, right?
I slid from the thin camping mattress, grabbed the small flashlight provided by the bedside, and quietly slipped on my shoes. A quickpeek outside the tent revealed no Calder, so I started in the bathroom’s direction.
The closer I got, the more unreasonable that thought became. He was a Stone. A survivalist. The very last thing he needed in the wilderness was a hole for excrement dressed up as indoor plumbing.
Sure enough, I reached the bathrooms and saw both stalls were unoccupied.
Where was he?
I spun around. There weren’t that many places he could go. Bathrooms. Another tent. The communal area.
Maxwell’s RV.
No, he wouldn’t ... I breathed out a curse.He would.
Just as I turned, I heard the unmistakable crunch of footsteps nearby. A flashlight zipped over the ground. A steady, whistled tune to the piña colada song.
Ben.
I clicked off my flashlight and made a beeline for tent 7, ducking behind it to catch my breath.
Calder should’ve told me he was going to do this.Anger rather than caution instigated my next move.
Keeping my flashlight off, I started in the direction Calder had gone earlier, relying only on the pallid light of the moon to guide me.
Calder had said there was another path from the clearing—the Sanctuary—that led to Maxwell’s RV.
I couldn’t go back through the woods—I’d lose too much light. But he’d said the RV was along the periphery, so if I continued to follow the trees, I’d have to find it eventually.
I walked for several minutes, my pace slow to stay quiet, even slower as I paused at every rustle and crunch, worried Ben was following me.
Maybe I should’ve waited. Maybe Calder had had a good reason for not telling me what he was doing, where he was going. But before I could decide to turn around, the RV came into view, everything as still as a tomb.
What if he wasn’t here?
I looked over my shoulder and then back to the camper.
What if Calder went somewhere else? To talk to his brother? What if I assumed wrong?
My pulse felt like a gong ringing in my head as I sidled up to the edge of the trees, crouching into their canopy of needles. I squinted at the RV, looking for the slightest hint of movement.
Nothing.
What if Calder wasn’t here?What if there was something inside that could lead us to Rachel?I was already here; I should at least look.
