Page 31 of A SEAL's Protection
I take a breath, aim at the pine, and fire.
Chips of wood explode from the tree.
“I got it!”
“You did.” He nods appreciatively.
My heart pounds, adrenaline surging through my veins. I don’t know if it’s because of the gun—or because of the man beside me.
“Keep it loaded,” Marcus instructs. “Use it if you have to.”
I tuck the gun into my pack. It’s the heaviest thing I’ve ever carried.
Marcus rolls his shoulder before he heaves his pack back on. “We need to keep moving. I want to find somewhere to camp before it gets dark.”
I nod, shouldering my pack again. Marcus leads us onto a deer path off the main trail.
As we walk, he keeps his phone in his hand, checking it every twenty minutes. Marcus doesn’t like being cut off from the outside world.
I keep imagining wildlife watching us, a bear coming around the corner.
But the bears are the least of our concerns.
14
MARCUS
The light is fading through the forest canopy when I find a place to set up camp for the night. It’s a small clearing deep in the forest. There’s not much space here, but the thickets provide shelter to camouflage the tarpaulin, and the thick canopy should shield any smoke from a fire.
I set a grueling pace today, and Allegra rolls her shoulders when she slides her pack off. Her face is dusty, her hair sticking to her skin with perspiration. But she doesn’t complain. She’s dusty, stubborn, and still pushing forward despite the setbacks. Most people would have folded days ago, but Allegra is determined to get that sample. I have to admire her for that.
I set up our shelter, dragging shrubs over it so that it’s hidden from view. I doubt anyone followed us this far into the woods. I haven’t had that prickly feeling on my neck again, and I’ve been zigzagging our course, avoiding the main paths and the river. That means all we’ve got for water is what’s left in our canteens. But for one night, it will do.
While Allegra gets the fire going and heats some food, I set the perimeter sensors. It’s hard to get a clear line between them on the thick forest floor, but I plant them as best I can. Like a lot of things right now, it will have to do.
I scout deeper into the forest, widening the perimeter, looking for any inconsistencies in the lay of the land. But we’re well out of the animal routes here, and everything looks calm.
When I come back to camp, Allegra has the fire going. She’s perched on a log, hunched over her laptop. She has the case popped open, but the screen is blank. The frown on her face tells me everything.
“Any luck?”
She shakes her head. “It won’t start.”
She lifts the laptop and carefully turns it over, showing me the smashed base. I can only hope it’s just the casing. I can’t tell whether the hard drive is damaged or not.
“Someone might be able to pull it and recover the files.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. At least I’ve got the camcorder.”
The camcorder sits on a log, plugged into the solar panel that’s charging in the thin light that comes through the canopy.
A thought occurs to me. “Let me see the footage from today.”
Her brows knit, then understanding crosses her face. “You want to see if I captured anything.”
The viewfinder is small, so we sit close together as she rewinds to today’s footage. Her face fills the screen—bright-eyed, smooth skin, looking a little road-worn but still beautiful. In the background is the ridge. That’s where I keep my attention.
Allegra talks about the waypoint, its importance, and what she is testing for here. And then I see it.
