with it. If Cap knew where she was, then maybe he’d killed her.
Except that somehow that didn’t add up. If Cap had killed her, he wouldn’t want to lead them to her body. So maybe she was still alive, hurt or trapped somehow. As possibilities ran around inside his head, his senses ratcheted to the highest alert level he had felt in a long time. Sort of like entering a cave in Afghanistan.
He wanted to hear what they were saying, but periodically they’d turn and scan the whole area and he had to duck. Good practice, even when conducting a search. Nothing that could itself be called unusual.
Except that Cap was out here, and he was wondering what the hell Cap hoped to gain. Did he want to look like a hero, hoping it would divert suspicion from what he and his guys were doing? Hell, that sounded more like Buddy than a guy who’d managed to get himself on a watch list.
But why pick on Sky? She hadn’t done a damn thing except sit on the side of a mountain and paint. And take photos, which wouldn’t disappear just because she did.
Why not go for him? He was the one who had gone over there to talk to Buddy and then prowled around the perimeter of Buddy’s land. He’d be the obvious one to eliminate.
And maybe that was the problem. Maybe they figured that was too risky. Knocking out a federal ranger usually resulted in enough law enforcement presence to be like a suffocating blanket.
Okay, that made it unlikely they’d come after him or one of the other rangers. But why in the name of all that was holy had they picked Sky?
With angry, worried questions buzzing around in his head like furious wasps, he almost got too close. He dropped to the ground just in time as they paused to scan around the area again. He noted that they had stopped calling for Sky. That was about the most informative thing they’d done yet.
Certain now that they knew where she was, and that they were probably somehow involved, the question became whether to keep following them or confront them. He decided to follow, because there was no guarantee they’d simply tell him where she was. No, they’d probably deny all knowledge.
They started moving again, making no attempt to be quiet. They certainly seemed to feel they were alone out here, as he could hear laughter from time to time. That laughter scorched his soul, and a chilly, killing rage came over him, unlike anything he had felt since the war.
The ice, though, clarified his head. It drove away the angry wasps of thought, and focused him intently on one goal: to follow them to Sky.
* * *
Despite the growing chill, perspiration dampened Sky’s skin by the time she made it to the hollow in the cliff face. Water loss was not a good thing. Still, if she could scrunch herself into that niche at least half of her would be protected, and the rock should capture her body heat, eventually reflecting some of it back. It certainly wasn’t likely to drain her as fast as the air as long as she didn’t press right up against the stone.
She rested a few minutes, allowing her skin to dry, studying her scraped and bloody palms. That crawling had done her few favors. She suspected that her elbows weren’t doing much better.
She’d saved some strips of her undershirt in case she needed them for the splint, but now she wound a couple of them around her hands before she attempted to contort herself into that niche. She took another bite of the power bar and looked longingly at the stream, so close and yet so far. No, she couldn’t afford to drag herself over there, nor would it probably be wise to drink icy water, which would only cool her down more. She had a day or two before thirst should become a serious problem. If she wasn’t found sometime in the morning, she’d have to crawl to the stream. Simple but important choices.
She just wished she was sure she was thinking clearly. Given fatigue, a blow to the head, hunger and now thirst, she couldn’t be sure. She had to count on training she hadn’t needed in a long time to carry her through.
As soon as she felt the handful of calories from the energy bar start to hit, she began the painful process of twisting herself into that niche.