Page 60 of The Search

Sarah felt sick as she looked at the young woman’s desperate expression. “Did you tell her how hard we’ve been trying?”

“She says we’ve been looking in the wrong place for her child. He wasn’t in the village. They were walking down the mountain after visiting Ming Na’s grandparents. A flash flood took him away from her and swept him down the mountain to the creek that runs beside the village.”

“How old is her baby?”

“Two.”

“The chances of his surviving a flash flood are practically nil.”

“She said he did survive. She saw him thrown up on the bank and crawling away. She tried to run after him, but the mudslide came and she couldn’t get over to get him. She heard him crying.”

“It’s been four days,” Sarah whispered. “If he survived the flood, who’s to say he would survive the exposure? You’re grabbing at straws.”

“Hell, yes, I want that baby to be alive.” His lips twisted. “I want a miracle. After these last few days I need a miracle.”

She could see that in his face. She needed a miracle too. You never knew when you’d find one, so you kept trying. “I’ll go take a look.” She got to her knees and put Monty’s halter on. “Ask her if she’ll take me to the place where she heard the baby crying.”

Logan turned to the woman and spoke to her in rapid Taiwanese. She nodded and answered. He turned back to Sarah. “She’ll take us.”

“Us?”

“I’m going,” he said firmly. “I promised her I’d bring back her baby.”

She shook her head.

“I want to do something besides pull corpses from beneath that goddamn mud. I want to find that baby . . . alive.”

She opened her mouth to protest and then closed it. She understood his desperation and weariness; how many times had she felt the same way? How many times had she tried to fool Monty into thinking there was life in a sea of death? “Come if you like. But if you can’t keep up, I’m not going to wait for you.”

“I’ll keep up.”

“Over there.” Logan pointed over the lake of mud to the rocks on the other side.

“The child was thrown on the bank there?” Sarah asked.

Logan nodded, then moved toward the boards that bridged the mud. “Let’s get the kid.”

“Let Monty and me go first, give him a head start.” She and Monty carefully picked their way across the narrow bridge to the safety of the rocky ground on the other side. She took off the leash and let Monty run down the mountain.

She tried not to look over her shoulder at Logan but couldn’t resist a glance before she started after Monty. He was okay, she saw with relief. Though God knows how he was keeping his balance on the wet boards with that bum leg. “Don’t try to hurry. Monty may come back to me a dozen times before he gets the scent.” She set off after the dog. “If he gets the scent.”

Monty was running around in circles as he tried to pick up the cone. The rain had increased in the last few minutes and she could barely see him.

“Monty’s not picking up anything,” she told Logan when he was beside her. She watched the retriever barrel down the bank.

Logan limped ahead of her to follow Monty. “Let’s go.”

She saw his expression and felt a ripple of shock. He was tense, totally absorbed, completely driven, and desperate.

I want to find this baby alive.

Oh, God, I hope you do, Logan.

Monty wasn’t picking up the scent. He was running around in circles.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Logan’s tone was harsh. “Can’t you do something?”

“He’s doing the best he can.”