Page 76 of These Reckless Hearts

The cement block that’s been chilling in the bottom of my stomach hardens. I don’t like the “last resort” talk. Thankfully, Lucas calls out to interrupt my thoughts. “Found it!”

Lucas’s voice echoes as he explains the proximity of the carving. As Stone and Lucas continue up the valley, pointing out more symbols, it’s difficult to match them up. Years of growth and rocks falling have changed the cliff face. Not to mention, the etchings have dulled over time.

“Does it match?” Wyatt asks, peering over my shoulder.

“It’s hard to say, there’s a little jut out on the face there. I think it could be blocking it, but I’m not sure.”

Wyatt takes the map and looks for himself. “We might have to have them climb up and point it out.”

I frown at that. “I really don’t want to add rock climbing into the mix.”

“What are you two discussing?” Lance prods, moving closer. “Does it fit or not?”

“It’s hard to tell.” I turn to face him. “It’s called erosion and a century’s worth of natural damage. Sun, wind, storms. Growth. Things you would actually know to think about if you weren’t sitting up in your office and letting Stone do all the work.”

Lance charges me, but Wyatt intercepts him. The older man’s nostrils flare. “I think she needs a reminder of what she’s doing here. Maybe open up an old wound?”

Mr. Blade Happy comes at me. Wyatt does his best, but the leader pins him on the ground as his friend whips his knife out. “You shouldn’t be so snarky,” he admonishes.

I walk backward and trip over a rock, falling on my ass. I crab walk backward over sand and rocks. “You can’t tell me it doesn’t irk you that he’s the one giving orders.”

“Hey!” Stone shouts from above. “What’s going on?”

I hear a commotion—boots crunching stones—but there’s no way they’re going to get here in time. And even if they did, it wouldn’t matter.

“I don’t like it, but I’m not getting paid to be his friend.” He drops his knee into my side, and I cry out. Even the extra strength pain reliever isn’t going to mute this sharp pain. I snap my jaw shut and breathe through the flare. Stone and Lucas call out again, concerned voices stretching over the expanse of space between us. Mr. Blade Happy smirks down at me. “Don’t worry. Just the tip this time.”

He yanks the sleeve of my shirt, exposing my shoulder. Just as he threatened, he digs the tip into my shoulder blade. I dig my heels into the mountain floor and hiss.

“Get off her!” Wyatt screams.

As quick as he jabbed me, he pulls the knife out. Tugging me close, he warns, “Just fucking do what he says.”

Moments after he stands and walks away, a First Aid kit is thrown toward me, and Wyatt scrambles to my side. He’s vibrating with rage, but I grip his hand, closing my eyes and pretending not to feel blood roll down my skin. “Patch me up.”

“I’m going to kill them.”

I hold him tighter. “Tell Lucas and Stone I’m fine.”

He glares at me. I can tell he wants to refuse, but he calls out anyway. The cursing stops immediately. Wyatt patches me up with thin lips, taking extra time to do it as softly as he can.

Lance steps forward. “Now, can we proceed?”

I nod, and Wyatt helps me to my feet.

“Return to the carvings!” Lance calls out, throwing his hand in the air as if he knows exactly where they are.

Lucas and Stone search for me in the distance. When their eyes meet mine, their shoulders sag. Each of them is worse for wear, dustier as if they were rolling around on the mountain floor, and they very well could have been fighting the two guards with them. I’m sure those two men weren’t going to let them get to me.

When Stone finds his next carving, he yells out its location, and Wyatt and I get into place. That one, I can actually see through the hole in the paper.

“It’s working,” Wyatt whispers next to me.

Though my shoulder is throbbing and my midsection now aches despite the pain reliever I took this morning, excitement buzzes the surface of my skin.

There are three more markers on the map, and when they call out the locations, they’re either spot on or very near where the holes I made on the map are. I can’t see every single one of them, so to be sure, Wyatt digs out the binoculars and we peer through the holes to verify.

I study the ground at my feet. It’s just an inconspicuous stretch of gravelly sand. There’s nothing extraordinary about it. There’s no X that marks the spot. I don’t get chills when I stand here like I’m standing on the edge of a vortex, but this, this right here, is important. It’s another clue. It’s proof that we’re headed in the right direction.

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