But strange enough that my skin prickles with unease.
It’s hard to place exactly what it is.
Not quite animal. Not quite human.
Something in between.
The air changes around us.
I feel it before I understand it.
Taylor slowly straightens.
Jax lowers the drone controller.
Even Maya looks unsettled.
Miles goes completely still. Every trace of easy humor disappears from his face.
“What was that?” I whisper.
No one answers.
Because no one knows for sure.
The canyon falls silent afterward in this horrible, heavy way that makes me aware of how alone we actually are out here.
My pulse kicks hard against my ribs.
Another crack echoes somewhere in the distance.
Closer this time.
I laugh nervously before I can stop myself. “Okay, nope. Nope. Absolutely not.”
But nobody else is laughing.
Miles lifts one hand to signal silence, eyes scanning the canyon walls. Focused. Alert. He makes a sign with his hand that the others clearly understand. I’m left clueless.
“I wasn’t in Panama, Adler. What the fuck does that mean?”
He shakes his head—not smiling—and waves for me to follow him.
Taylor looks psyched. Jax is frantically ensuring his gear captures the audio. Maya has the same determined look as usual, albeit with a bit more satisfaction. They all know this is their hard work paying off.
What I know is something is lurking in the shadows, and I’m just a girl.
My mind races, questioning every documentary I’ve seen and how I wrote it off as editing. And for the first time since arriving—for the first time since this whole ridiculous assignment started—something cold slips down my spine. Because suddenly this no longer feels like fluffy editorial content. It feels like standing at the edge of something uncharted.
chapter
six
MILES
By the time we get back to the Machine, the desert has gone blue.
It’s the in-between hour where the heat finally breaks and everything softens at the edges. The cliffs in the distance fade into shadow while the first stars start punching through the sky one by one.