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“I’m going out first,” Diego said. “I’ll put eyes in the sky before I go.” He didn’t look at Rubin, knowing his brother would object.

“Diego.”

“I’m better than you out there. You’re still not one hundred percent. Try to reach Jonquille while I’m sending the birds.” Diego refused to look at him, but began to make his way to the front of the very narrow tunnel.

The entrance leading outside by Huntington Falls was natural. This was how Luther had first discovered the cave system. The tunnel sloped gently uphill, and all three of them had to stoop as the roof overhead was low. Rubin’s and Diego’s shoulders scraped on the walls of either side. There was a rock blocking most of the entryway, with grasses growing over and around it.

The vegetation was thick in the area and particularly right where the rocks were. Grasses grew from every crack, creating a seemingly impenetrable wall. If anyone did look at what appeared to be a small hole, they might think it was an animal’s den. Luther had encouraged the brush to grow and added the appearance of small animals living in the area. Nothing big enough to hunt, but if anyone was curious, it would explain the cozy little nest in the dark space. Very few would explore beyond that. Rubin couldn’t help but marvel at the man’s ingenuity.

He watched as Diego sent his birds into the air to find the leader of the soldiers as well as to find the location of as many of the other soldiers as possible. Diego had switched from the early morning songbirds to hawks. He sent the sharp-eyed raptors into the air from several locations.

While they waited for the information, Rubin composed a short sequence of notes to Jonquille to let her know he was aware of the code. He wanted her to know they were close. Waiting. She wasn’t alone.

He had to be careful. If any of the others shared the pathway because they shared her genetic makeup and he touched them, they couldn’t realize someone was communicating with Jonquille. She’d been very cautious. He had to be equally cautious. He followed the psychic footprints leading to her, sending little flicks and strikes very gently and softly, a melody of lightning using one of the actual refrains from the song she loved. He waited, knowing he was right but still worried that his woman was out there with a number of men and perhaps helpless.

A few flicks answered him. The relief was tremendous. He had already composed the next line. You right. He chose actual lyrics so he could use the notes, flicking them with ease. When he needed to, he would compose a detailed message, using the sequence, but for now, he’d find out if she was being treated humanely.

She let a few moments go by while his heart thudded in reaction to the wait. Yes. Delaying them.

She was giving them time to set up to find a way to retrieve her. He took his time trying to figure out the best thing to ask next. Gunthrie’s? They had talked at length about Luther Gunthrie at the Sawyers’. Would the squirrel men risk talking in front of her? Or, like those she feared would be able to hear them speaking telepathically to her, could she hear them?

The little flicks came after what seemed forever. Time seemed to be rushing past. He had no idea how close the elite soldiers were, but if they didn’t take out the ground crew, they would be overwhelmed with sheer numbers. It would be impossible to get Jonquille back. Heard kill old man twice coming from someone there. The leader here objected. The one there said it was done.

For some reason hearing that, even though he already knew it, sent a spark of anger through Rubin all over again. These soldiers had no idea Luther was anything but a gentle old man protecting his home and his still. The orders were very clear to hunt him down and kill him. That was why there was so much activity. They wanted him found and out of the way. And the team leader here had lied to the one in the field. Luther wasn’t dead. The ground crew was still hunting him. Why did that man want him killed?

Arrival?

Just before dark.

She answered that immediately and then fell silent. He had the feeling she wouldn’t respond again. It made sense that the soldiers would bring in a plane just before dark. They would want to ensure it would be when few travelers would be on the road. The plane would be small and would fly only Jonquille and a couple of the elite soldiers out with her. The others would go by road. They wouldn’t want to be seen. Once the plane was in the air, they would wait for nightfall and they would leave, taking their equipment with them. Luther would be dead, but what was the death of one old man? If they buried him deep, they would expect that no one would look too hard for him.


Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal