Page 2 of Touchdown

Of course, it didn't hurt that we already knew we couldn't see the complete circle of surrounding ocean from the house. The island didn't even have to be an island. It could be a peninsula, with a guarded gateway to keep out unwanted trespassers.

I was pretty confident of the island theory though. If people can walk in someplace, they will walk in. Also, if we were attached to the mainland, we probably would have seen more aircraft.

As in, we would have seen at least one.

The only way to be this off-grid was to be in the middle of an ocean. Sure would be nice to know which one.

“Why are we doing this?” Noah suddenly asked. “This stupid-ass trail-blazing.”

For a minute, I figured it for a rhetorical question. “Mmm?”

“I mean, why do we have to take this stupid-ass deer track? Why isn't there a road?”

He was right. We'd circled the entire house before our departure. And there just wasn't one.

It was odd. Made you wonder how long ago the house had been built.

The place looked like new construction, maybe even one of those vacation places built specifically to cater to the vacation rental market. Those places had to sign agreements that they weren't using spy cameras and baby monitors to peep at their guests during their most intimate moments.

That explained the lack of hidden cameras we otherwise had a right to expect in our bedroom.

“I've been thinking about it,” I admitted. “But I didn't want to dive into another paranoid rabbit hole.”

“It wasn't paranoid to go over the house for cameras. It was smart.”

Maybe so, but my neck tingled and my skin crawled. Classic signs of paranoia.

Unless it was a horror movie, in which case it was a classic sign of being watched.

If we're being watched, they know we're making a break for it. You can't assume they don't have monitors in the forest just because they don't have cameras in the house.

Trail cams were a thing. A cheap thing. Half the hunters on the bayou had hidden them all over the national forest. Ninety percent or more had them installed on their own property.

My skin crawled even more.

What was this place exactly?

The builders would need roads to bring up the materials, the crew, and the equipment. They must have undone the road again. Planted it with tropical shrubs. Artfully landscaped it to blend in with the rest of the wild.

Why?

I hated to say it, but I had to. “They've kept other people prisoner here.”

Chapter 2

Noah stopped, turned, looked me in the eye.

He was trying to determine if I was about to panic. I don't panic. But I do raise concerns.

Fake it till you make it, isn't a thing in football. You put up a real defense to their real offense, or you get run over.

“OK,” he said. “That's a valid concern. But I don't think so. Maybe that's what the place is going to turn into—some kind of safe house or private prison. I can totally see that coming. But if it is, we're the first.”

His hand dipped into his pillowcase. Came out with a can of sparkling water.

Hydration is always a good idea. I grabbed one that boasted about the health-giving properties of its acai-blueberry mix. We drank quietly for a moment.

Noah's Adam apple bobbled. I wanted to touch it.

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