Nature didn’t care about plans and she didn’t care about your survival, so planning for the worst was always the best move.
I handed her the canteen of water and then reached for my phone. There was no cell service out here, but that wasn’t what the phone was for. I opened the screen to the advanced map app that showed watersheds, topographical and elevation data, and had cost a small fortune but was priceless in practice.A shortcut,Cassius would say, knowing he’d taught us all to memorize that data when we had access to it before a hike and how to read the landscape when we didn’t.
“Here is the location of Eden’s Children.” I tilted my phone and pointed to the green pin that marked the coordinates I’d entered.
Having the location of the compound was only half the battle. Even with a pretty pin, it wasn’t like I could just ask for walking directions through the mountains.
“High elevation. Low elevation.” I indicated the different colors, yellow and green. “The compound is positioned at the end of this valley between these two ridge systems.” The peaks of which were marked in yellow, the valley bordered by the low green lines. “Given the terrain, there are three viable approach routes. The first is this.”
Tapping on another filter, a pale-blue haze descended on part of the map.
“This is the most obvious path from the drop point. It follows the watershed and given its relative flatness, probably the route they most commonly use, and therefore the riskiest for us to take.” I flipped off the watershed filter. “The second route over the western ridge is the shortest, but not only would we be exposed and visible for miles, it would take us longer to reach the site because of the change in elevation.”
“So we’re going this way.” She reached in front of me, her hand laying gently over mine as she traced a line from our red dot, through the deepest part of the valley, and then up to the green mark.
“A maze of deadfall and boulder fields. Not easy hiking, but shielded by the forests on each ridge and a path they’d probably consider impassable.”
The forest was dense along the ridge, the trees a natural canopy that would shield us from observation and the sun. Hiking straight through the peak of the afternoon wasn’t ideal, making it one more factor I’d taken into consideration when planning our route.
“What’s that?” she asked when the red dot marking our location flashed purple.
“Satellite transmission. Never hike alone unless you absolutely have to.”Rule #2.“Callum is tracking our progress. We’ll make camp here.” I indicated a spot in the ridge almost directly below the location of the compound. “And then I’ll turn on the satellite link and Callum will send over the drone images.”
“And then we’ll hike to the cult?” She handed me back the water.
“One step at a time, Tomb Raider.” I brought the container to my mouth, the liquid almost hitting the wrong pipe when she swiped her tongue over her bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth with worry.
I didn’t take much time to think before I palmed her neck, pushed her chin up with my thumb, and covered her mouth with mine. The kiss was to quell her worry. To crimp the fuse before it ignited agitation in her mind. It wasn’t because I’d been starving for a taste of her from the moment I’d left her in my bed. And it definitely wasn’t because her voicemail from the hospital had opened an unwelcome can of worms in my mind.
Her sister might have been here, but the rest of her life was in Phoenix. And now wasn’t the time to think about what that meant. So I kissed her like it could root her. Not to a place, but to me.
With a moan, Lara’s lips parted, our tongues instantly tangling. My mind already had the topography of her mouth burned to memory. The paths to stroke her pleasure higher and the places to make it simmer low. There was one destination, but the paths to get there were as numerous as the time I wanted to take exploring them all.
I kissed her deeper. Harder. I lost myself for a moment in the ache I had for her before the caw of a hawk above reminded me where we were—what I was doing.
“Trust me,” I murmured over her lips, not as a command but a plea.
Trust me to find her. Trust me to take care of you.
“Okay.” Her eyes were still hooded, her head still angled for more, but if I gave it to her, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
“We need to keep moving,” I said as I pulled my head up, my gaze roaming over her upturned face one more time before I stepped back and hefted my pack back onto my shoulders. “Ready?”
“Are you?” She countered with a husky voice.
For the wilderness? “Yeah.”
For her? Never.
For the successive three miles, we moved at a decent pace along the east ridge, using what shade we could. When the trees thinned into a screefield—the unstable, jagged rocks too treacherous and too exposed to cross—I led us down into the valley and along the stream.
About a mile along the bubbling water, a large Douglas fir had recently fallen across the stream, branches still protruding and sap still seeping from the destroyed bark.
“We’ll cross over the trunk but I need to remove some of the branches first,” I told her. Sliding my pack from my back, I unzipped the top pocket, pulled out a protein bar, and handed it to her, along with the water bottle. “Eat this and hydrate.” When her brows rose, I let my voice sink low. “What is my rule?”
At the reminder, she obeyed, her cheeks stained with a blush.
Sliding my CRKT knife from its sheath on the strap of my bag, I went to work cutting through the branches all the way to the other side. When I’d finished, I turned back to find Lara hoisting herself onto the tree with my sixty pounds of gear on her back.
