Scramble on the high desert. Paperback! / Kindle!
“Mike?” Fred yelled.
“Uh…”
“Mike, are you alright?”
“I think so.”
“Let’s get outta here!” Fred said.
“Wait.”
“I ain’t waiting for nothin’.”
“Stay put,” I cautioned.
“You’re crazy if you think those freaks can’t see us under this stupid blanket. They know exactly where we are. Let’s run for it.”
“Fred, hold…”
“Follow me. I got you, buddy!” Fred threw off the blanket and jumped up.
“Fred, wait a…”
Fred resorted to what he does best: run. Fight or flight? Fred can do both. He’s like Superman or something. He’s got it good.
“Come on! Don’t be a sittin’ duck,” Fred called as he ran into the darkness.
“Fred, we can’t get separated. Wait!”
It was no use.
Man, that guy is quick. I rose to chase him—yeah, right, like I had a chance. Then, I vaguely saw him crouch behind a sagebrush.
“Hurry!” he called.
Like that scrawny plant can hide that big dude. Funny how you can still laugh in a crisis. Does he realize how ridiculous he looks?
Bam!
Another fireball ripped through our two-man tent. The searing heat singed my eyebrows, my brown hair hanging out of my Denver Broncos stocking cap, and my four-day, prematurely gray-speckled stubble. Fire raged in front of me.
I was stunned for a few seconds, tops. It couldn’t have been longer than that. I swear. I checked the skies. All clear. I scrambled out of camp, but in confusion, I ran the wrong direction—away from Fred, who probably couldn’t see me through the flames. I crossed fifty yards of crackling sagebrush under my boots and climbed the next hill, scampering on all fours, staying low. Get away. That’s all I could think about. I reached the hilltop.
Bam!
Another fireball slammed into the blanket that covered us a few minutes ago. Flames soared thirty feet into the air. I dropped to the ground. My face pounded into the dust. Luckily, the spring dirt was still soft, even spongy. By June or July, the sun bakes this ground as hard as concrete. I watched the campsite burn. That’s just great. There goes our electronic gear, up in smoke.
Just as I feared, Fred and I had become separated. He probably thinks I’m dead. Fred’s a smart guy. He won’t return. It’s not safe. He’ll keep moving and find a way to call Black Wolf. That’s his number one priority. It’s the by-the-book move, too. Then he’ll return to help. That is, if he thinks I survived. If not, he’ll leave it to the clean-up crew. I don’t blame him.
I laid motionless for what seemed like an hour, but it was probably about ten minutes. The night was quiet again. In an instant of bravery, or stupidity, not sure which—okay, definitely stupidity—I stood up, making myself an easier target. I didn’t care anymore. Last August, I committed to stop those freaks, and, at least symbolically, on this hill, I decided to make my stand. I owed it to Meg.
“Here I am, you freaks! You gonna do something about it?” I called, concealing the twitching in my right leg. I shook my fist defiantly. “Come back and fight,” I yelled, all the while hoping they wouldn’t. I realized this could be a hill to die on, literally. I lowered my fist. Stay cool. Ten more seconds passed. Nothing happened. I was still alive. They’re probably gone. “Cowards,” I said, softly.
Brilliant, beautiful stars hung frozen like diamonds, an illusion of peace shrouding an unseen menace high in the atmosphere. Out here, away from the glow of the city lights, that sky can take your breath away.
“Now what?” I asked, wondering what the freaks might do, and what might happen if we can’t warn Black Wolf.
I gazed at the stars.