Dusk (Dangerous Web #1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,49

Sparrow’s voice. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“We landed.” I looked around. “We’re in a valley within the canyon at the far west of Mason’s property. We don’t have a cell signal.”

“What did you see?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I admitted. “Fuck, it could be nothing. It’ll take us some time to get to the coordinates. If there’s a signal there, we’ll call. If not, we’ll report back as soon as we get back to the plane.”

“There are capos about forty-five minutes out. I’ve sent them to the coordinates you sent.”

A sigh resonated from my chest. “I fucking hope this isn’t a wild goose chase, Sparrow.”

“It’s the most we’ve had. Call as soon as you can.”

“We will. Out.”

I flipped the switches, cutting all power to the plane. When I backed out of the copilot’s seat, Mason was there.

“Ready?” he asked.

“You have a first-aid kit?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He walked around to a cargo hold and opened the door. When he handed it my way, he asked, “Wishful thinking?”

“Like Sparrow said, it’s the most we’ve had.” I looked off to the south, covering my eyes from the afternoon sun. “This way.” When I looked back, Mason had water jugs. “Wishful thinking?”

“Thought maybe it might be a good idea not to pass out from dehydration before we report back.”

“Good plan.” I turned to the south. “This way.”

The ground under our boots was hard and packed. The grass was brown and brittle. The dry season was about ready to give way to the rains of autumn. In another month, where we landed and were walking could be a stream or raging river.

Above us the sky was blue with white clouds floating here and there. In the distance, the taller mountains glistened with their white snowcaps. We both pushed on, through the crunchy grass, up and down hills. The shine I’d seen before was nowhere to be found. Mason and I exchanged glances. Each passing minute and football-field length we traveled lowered our expectations.

“Maybe I imagined it,” I said, stopping to take a drink of water and wiping the sweat from my brow.

“We’re here,” he said, looking at his phone. “The coordinates connected to satellites, not cell towers. Let’s spread out and cover this area. The grass is tall in some spots.” He lifted his eyes to the horizon. “We need to be certain that we don’t miss anything before we turn around.”

I walked to our left while Mason went to the right. The plan was to go one thousand yards and then loop back toward one another. With each step, I scanned the ground in all directions. The dry grass and hard-packed earth were all fading together.

My feet stilled and hearing strained.

I waited.

Had I heard something?

It could have been an animal scampering to shelter from the hot sun or a bird searching for food. I looked up, scanning the sky.

The sound came again.

“Mason,” I called. “Come over here.”

“Did you find something?” he asked as he turned to come my way.

Once he was near, I lifted my hand. “Hold still and listen. I swear I heard something.”

The breeze that had tried to upend the plane whistled in our ears as we both slowly turned complete circles. The topography of the canyon caused sounds to echo. Maybe I was hearing my own breaths, my own steps on the hard ground, or simply the wind.

Nerves tingled my skin. Every receptor was on full alert.

“P-lease.”

Mason and I froze, our eyes speaking volumes.

He spoke first, calling to the wilderness, “Is someone there?”

Nothing.

“Hello? We’re here to help you,” I called louder than Mason.

“H-help.”

We both began to run toward a clump of large rocks. This time of day, the far side was a small amount of shade in the vast sunshine. Mason and I both came to a dead stop as we saw her.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled as I went closer. “Araneae.”

It wasn’t a question. I knew her identity.

Despite the sunburned skin, matted hair, bleeding feet, and tattered clothes, there was no doubt of her identity. We’d found Araneae Sparrow.

I knelt down beside her and lifted her head as Mason handed me the water. “Araneae,” I spoke softly.

Her swollen eyelids fluttered as soft brown orbs came in and out of sight.

I scanned her prone body searching for injuries while confirming her baby bump. Other than the obvious dishevelment, she appeared unhurt. “Araneae, can you drink?”

Her head bobbed as her dry, cracked lips parted.

I inclined the bottle, bringing the liquid to her lips. After a few seconds of her swallowing, I pulled it away.