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Talia notified Mason and the other squads who were behind them of their new findings, having no doubt the information would give everyone a new life on the search.
As she and her team members fanned out, Talia said a small prayer.
Please God, let him be okay. Please.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Huh?
Was the sound that hit Fleet’s ears the sweet cadence of Talia’s voice? Was he dreaming? He moved his hand slightly—something he’d been working on—and manage to poke himself.
Nope.Not sleeping.
Talia had come to find him.
He opened his mouth and attempted to call out, but leaves sifted in and no sound emerged.Damn.He couldn’t even cough, which sucked. What if Talia walked right by without seeing him? What could he do to gain her attention? His pinky fingers were now moving like mad with his rising agitation, and his hand actually…
There.A wrist-flex. Fleet gave everything toward concentrating on that one hand.Move, move, move,he told it, and in response, he heard the glorious rustle of leaves.
Yes!
He could do this. Talia’s voice was getting closer. Very slowly, but he was certain she was moving toward him. Still he had no idea how deeply he was buried under the detritus that continued to sift up into his nose.Dammit. It was possible she could walk right the hell by, and he’d be left to his own, pitiful devices.
Hell, no.That wasn’t an option.
He could hear the crunching of many feet on the forest floor now, and knew he needed to up his game. And thinking of it as a game helped. Since when had a physical challenge he’d ever attempted gotten the better of him? Not once in his adult life, because he always worked damned hard to reach the exact outcome he wanted. So… This fight wasn’t going to defeat him, either.
He bent his hand up slowly, only succeeding in raising it to what he thought might be a ninety-degree angle at his wrist. But still, it was better than nothing. He began flapping it up and down in the leaves, and was heartened to hear himself making noise. But was it enough to be heard over the footsteps and voices approaching?
He wiggled his hand as if his life depended on it… Because it did.
* * *
The mic inTalia’s ear came to life.
“Spires,” Mason barked.
“Spires up,” Talia answered, then raised a hand to signal everyone should come to a momentary stop.
“Harvé and Muddy are now on site,” Mason’s voice clipped. “They’re headed in to your location.”
“That’s good.” She breathed a little easier. “He can take a long sniff of the tarp that Welker is bagging up. We’re close, Chief, because our perp wouldn’t have carried Fleet far, we’re sure. But we’re taking it very slowly, so we don’t miss anything. Muddy’s nose will be invaluable at this point.”
Mason said something else, but a slight rustling up ahead that sounded nothing like the breeze that had been wafting through the trees, hit her ears.
“Chief. I hear something. We may have him. Spires out.” She cut her connection and headed for the odd crinkling she heard.
“Probably a goddamned animal,” Doug grumbled from behind her.
“Shut it,” Cisco told him before Talia could respond, and how about that? Cisco stepping up.
If the situation weren’t so dire, she might have felt pretty warm and fuzzy that Cisco finally had her back. She’d known he had it in him. Was he still combative and caustic?Yes.But she was beginning to see that his poisoned-dart comments were often helpful; pointing more toward thinking outside the box, than naysaying. That wasn’t a bad thing.
The leaf crunching sounds became louder, and it now gave an accurate direction in which to head. Without conscious thought, Talia began to run until…
Holy Mother of God.Her flashlight beam silhouetted the paleness of a hand sticking up through the leafy ground-cover.
“Got him!” she yelped over her mic, stumbling the last few yards toward what looked to be a shallow depression in the ground. Abe’s squad and hers were right behind, with Cisco, and Doug by her side.
