Atmospheric static answered him. He tried three more times before Lucy broke in. “I told you. Her radio’s out. They found that hiker, so everyone is heading your way now. Any idea which way she went?”
“None. It’s like she was beamed out of here.” That meant he needed to stay put until the others arrived. Coordination in a search was essential.
“She’s probably all right, Craig,” Lucy said almost gently.
He didn’t need gentleness, he needed action. “Yeah. But I’d like to see for myself. How long since she tried to talk to you?”
“An hour, maybe a little longer.”
“Hell.” An hour. Easy enough for her to have walked three or four miles in almost any direction. And with every minute he waited, she could be going farther. Or she could be coming back. Regardless, someone had to be planted right here until she returned or others arrived.
He looked at the sun, realized that in little more than an hour or so it would sink behind the western peaks, dimming the light, making it harder.
The only thing going for her right now was that he was certain she had good navigation skills. He didn’t know if she had a compass, but she knew how to mark her own trail so she could follow it back. All the military training would stand her in good stead, even if this turned out to be nothing but a stroll.
Damn, she must have been propelled by the sense that someone was in serious need of help, because he could count at least a dozen reasons not to go haring off alone in what might be a dangerous situation.
Then he remembered the gorge she had told him about discovering. That meant she had gone into these woods alone before. Maybe he needed to have a good talk with her about the dangers out here. This wasn’t Iraq and it wasn’t Tampa. Something as simple as a twisted ankle could kill someone who was out here alone.
Dusty started grazing on the greened-up grass and Craig squatted, waiting, using his binoculars, surveying the area all around for any sign of her passage, an indication of which way she might have gone.
He found nothing.
* * *
Sky heard the cry again, and she could make out the word: help. It sounded fainter, weaker, but it pulled her directly to that gorge she had discovered the day before yesterday. In the thick woods, she might be mistaken about the source of the sound and she knew it, but it was the only direction she had. She tried the radio again, but couldn’t get a decent signal.
Damn. Well, to the gorge and no farther. Craig would probably have plenty of words for her about doing this solo, and she wouldn’t blame him. But she couldn’t ignore that cry, either. Mountain lion? No way. Somebody was hurt.
But she was also aware that she was no woodsman and had no illusions about her ability to find a single person in such a large area with such heavy growth. There was just so far she could take this. If she didn’t find anything by the time she reached the gorge, she was going to have to head back and hope that Lucy had summoned help.
She heard water rushing ahead of her now and realized she had almost arrived. She quickened her pace, intending to stand on the edge of the ravine and call loudly to see if anyone answered. The roar of the water, the river engorged by yesterday’s rain, would probably make it difficult for her to be heard even a few feet away, but she had to try it. Besides, she might see something.
She reached the edge of the ravine and put her hands to her mouth, calling, “Hello? Hello?”
The roaring water deadened the sound, preventing even an echo. Regardless, she tried a couple more times.
She was just about to turn around and head back when something caught her eye. It looked like orange fabric, the kind a lot of people wore in the woods so they wouldn’t be mistaken for a deer—probably a wise thing even when it wasn’t hunting season, given what Craig had said about poachers. She was willing to bet people tried to hunt all kinds of things out of season here.
She walked a few more steps to a place that looked like she could climb down without too much trouble. Turning around, she hooked the radio on her belt, then knelt and backed up until she could feel