Page 50 of DFF: Delicate Freakin' Flower

I flipped him off over my shoulder and disappeared inside. When I returned—wig twisted into a neat bun, black cap low over my brow, and my oversized round sunglasses in place—Webb and Eddie both turned to look at me.

Webb gave a low nod of approval, but Eddie stood slowly, brushing off his jeans. “You feel it?”

Webb’s eyes were scanning the trees now. “Yeah.”

I stilled and focused on what they were talking about. I could feel it—there was something in the air. Something tight and quiet. Like the whole bayou was holding its breath. And whatever it was, it was coming.

The midday sunhad climbed high by the time we got everything ready. The drone case was slung over Webb’s shoulder, and Eddie had packed a pair of binoculars and some snacks into a battered canvas satchel like he was prepping for a nature walk. We set out through the woods, following an overgrown trail that ran along the edge of the bayou, all of us quiet and alert.

Birds chirped in the trees, and frogs croaked in the reeds, but underneath it, all was that same tension we’d all felt earlier—something wrong was humming low under the surface.

“This the spot?” I asked as we broke through the brush into a small clearing dotted with cypress knees and old mossy logs.

“High ground,” Webb said, already pulling out the drone and setting it on a dry patch of dirt. “Gives us enough range to cover the ridge line, the water, and the east edge of town.”

Eddie stood a few feet back, scanning the horizon through his binoculars. At the same time, I dropped down next to Webb and watched him power everything on.

“You’ve done this before?”

“Plenty.” He handed me the controller without looking. “You’re flying.”

My brows shot up behind my sunglasses. “Oh?”

“You’re the only one here who spent six months obsessively watching aerial footage of mountain ranges on YouTube,” he explained, smirking just enough to make my stomach twist in a good way.

“Touché,” I muttered, adjusting the thumb sticks.

The drone lifted off with a soft whirr, rising above the trees in a steady arc. I guided it up and out, letting the camera pan across the vast sprawl of trees, lazy waterways, and weather-worn buildings scattered in the distance.

We watched the monitor in silence for a while, the drone drifting over narrow trails and thickets, scanning for anything that didn’t belong. A flash of movement had all three of us tense, but it was just a deer crashing through the underbrush, startled by the humming overhead.

“I still think we should’ve painted it neon pink,” Eddie murmured, crouching beside me. “No one would suspect a drone that ugly.”

“We want people to think we’re bird nerds, not blind,” I shot back.

“Same thing.”

Webb leaned over my shoulder, pointing to a split in the trees near a long-abandoned barn. “There, get closer.”

I shifted the drone left, lowering it just enough to get a good view. A car sat tucked under the trees—a black SUV, its dark paint blending into the shadows. Dirt was still kicked up around the tires as if it had pulled in sometime during the night and hadn’t moved since.

“Zoom in,” Webb ordered, his voice low.

The drone cam tightened on the image, and Eddie let out a sharp breath behind me.

“No plates,” he sighed.

“And that’s not a local vehicle,” Webb added. “There's no mud or dents. It’s new.”

I hovered there for a moment longer, scanning the area. There was no movement around the barn and no sign of anyone.

“Think they’re inside?” I asked.

“Or nearby,” Webb hedged. “Watching and waiting.”

I pulled the drone back slowly, rising higher in case someone was down there listening. We drifted farther west, sweeping the edge of town, but the SUV was the only hit.

Eddie stood and stretched, keeping his eyes on the trees. “Well, now we know they’re definitely here. Still think we should just let ‘em make the first move?”

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