This Fearless Girl (St. Clary's University #2) - E. M. Moore Page 0,111
if there is someone watching us, being without cell service isn’t ideal. Plus, I’ve been worried about Stone all night and dying to know what Cole found.
Wyatt shrugs. “I’m fine with it if you are.”
I close my eyes and sigh. “Yeah, let’s pack up. We have no idea who’s out there, how many people they have with them. We know nothing.” I swallow at the sudden thought that forms in my head. What if whoever is out there has been working with Lance for a while? Maybe he hired them to do something to my dad? It never made sense that he came up into the mountains and went missing. Not Clark Wilder. If that’s the case, I’m really going to be pissed that I didn’t just fucking shoot Stone’s father in the chest when I had the chance.
Lucas, Wyatt, and I trek back to camp. Wyatt pours water on what’s left of the burning embers of the fire while I head into the tent to start packing up our stuff. I pull out my cell on a whim and sigh when I don’t have any service. I shove my cell back in my pocket—forgetting I’m not wearing jeans yet. The phone falls to the floor in a loud snap.
I jump, and my foot kicks a hard object, setting off another loud snap.
“Dakota!” Lucas calls.
I stare down at the metal traps near my feet—angry, spiked teeth clasped together. One of them has a hold of my phone, the iron teeth sheering right through it.
“Dakota!” he yells again, and I hear him rushing toward me.
“Stop!” I call out. I stand still in the middle of the tent. The traps were hidden by our discarded clothing, but I have no idea what’s outside either. “Everyone stop moving.”
“What is it?” Wyatt asks. They’re both close. If I had to guess, they’re several feet away.
“Animal traps,” I breathe.
“What the...what?”
“Huge animal traps,” I tell them. “Grab something solid and poke where you want to step. These fucking things could’ve taken my foot off.”
I peer around the tent and grab the metal detector. Turning it upside down, I start poking it around the floor near the entrance. Lucas and Wyatt make their way inside once it’s clear.
“Fuck,” Wyatt groans, staring at the jagged metal teeth. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I swallow, trying to get my heartbeat back under control. If I’d gotten my foot stuck in one of those, it would be the end for me. We have a first aid kit with us, but nothing equipped to take care of an injury like that. I would’ve bled out before these guys could’ve carried me down the mountain to get help.
Wyatt takes point, poking an old piece of wood over anything that looks like it could have a form. A loud snap sounds again, and teeth shred right through my sleeping bag, breaking his stick. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Check yours, too,” I advise. Sure enough, each one of our sleeping bags was hiding a huge animal trap. If two of us had been hurt, there’s no way we would’ve all gotten out of here alive. One person can’t carry two people.
After we’ve thoroughly checked the rest of the tent and triggered all the traps, we line them up outside so Lucas can take pictures on his phone. Once we have what we need, we pack up the camp more carefully than we would have before.
Wyatt finds a plastic bag and places two traps inside before shoving them in his pack. “We’ll have someone analyze these,” he says. “The plastic should keep them preserved in case there are finger prints.”
We make sure all the traps fit in our packs before we start trekking back down the mountain. “Stay vigilant,” Wyatt warns. “If one of us gets hurt—”
“We’re fucked,” Lucas finishes for him.
The trek takes longer than it usually does. I’m fuming from the fact that someone was at our campsite. They were right next to us, fucking with us. They knew we’d find the handprints and used them as a distraction to set those traps. How could they be so callous, go to such extremes? It’s sickening. It’s not like there’s not enough to worry about in the Superstitions that now we have to worry about manmade dangers, too.
The three of us approach the ledge that we need to carefully climb down. The sun is fully out now, and all I’m looking forward to is getting the fuck out of these mountains.