Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 140803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Rubin inhaled, once more letting his senses flare out to scan the night. There was no sound to alert him. Nothing that would tell him he was being hunted, but like the elk, he was suddenly uneasy. He eased into the deeper foliage and went perfectly still, fading completely into the dark of the shrubs. He was so quiet and stealthy, the elk never looked his way, as wary as the animal was.
Again, Rubin took stock of his surroundings, letting the wind talk to him, bring him information. An owl flew silently overhead. Shrews scurried under leaves and cones in an effort to stay hidden as they fed in the dense foliage, protected by the trees and brush. A family of raccoons chattered back and forth farther downstream, scolding a skunk that didn’t care one way or the other, oblivious to whatever the elk seemed leery about.
It wasn’t raining, but the wind was by turns gusting or still. The clouds were stacked overhead across the night sky, towers rising high. Occasionally Rubin could see flashes of light in the purpleand-black-laced edges, forked tongues like snakes lashing out at the restraining barriers holding the electrical energy in.
Several tree frogs serenaded back and forth, uninterrupted. Salamanders skittered through the leaves and debris on the forest floor near the stream bed. The night insects sang. Still, Rubin didn’t move. Now the hairs on his body reacted, telling him something unseen was in motion. Something was coming toward him from his left and behind him. Low to the ground. It was in one of the tunnels foxes and other animals used to navigate quickly through heavy brush.
Rubin relaxed the fist that had been around the hilt of his knife at his waist. He stayed where he was, his hand still on the knife. That was no fox in that small tunnel. That was a small woman, a little lightning bug that could move fast and track just as well as Diego. If she was already coming after him, there was no doubt in his mind that his brother was as well. So where was Diego? Was he tracking Jonquille? Or him?
So much for any of them getting sleep. He thought about closing his eyes for a few minutes. It would take Jonquille another fifteen minutes at least before she made it to him, and that was if she didn’t slow her pace, which she would if she didn’t want to get caught. Diego was another matter altogether. Diego was a huge question mark. To reach him as fast as she had, Jonquille must have started after him almost as soon as he’d left. That meant Diego was already out of the cabin or she couldn’t have gotten away safely.
If Diego had come after him first, he might not know Jonquille was tracking him as well. Rubin puzzled it all out in his mind. He liked puzzles. Diego was better in the woods than Rubin. There was no doubt about that. Rubin was good, but Diego was pure animal. He’d been good as a kid, but once Whitney had enhanced him, he’d gotten better. Not just better. Weirdly better.
Diego could track anything through any kind of terrain. He was quiet about it. Never talked about it. Few knew, even on the teams. They had elite trackers on their team, so Diego and Rubin didn’t say much about either of their little-known gifts. It wasn’t necessary and neither preferred the spotlight. They both were the type to fade into the background when at all possible. If they were needed, they came forward, but not until.
Another flash overhead, sizzling and bright, lighting the long series of clouds as if the bolts were igniting one another. The lighted forks were dazzling and then gone, leaving the woods even darker and more threatening.
Rubin didn’t let his guard down because he had spotted Jonquille and knew Diego was close. The elk hadn’t alerted to either of them. Something else was prowling around the stream very close to Rubin. He kept all his senses alert, hoping Jonquille was doing the same and not concentrating solely on him.
The small figure in the tunnel had ceased to move and was curled up in a little ball. His breath caught in his throat as he realized the activity overhead in the thunderclouds had to be a magnet for the electrical charges in her body. The overhead lightning was looking for just one lead stroke to carve a path to earth. She was doing her best to keep from responding. She wasn’t out in the open, which was what had kept her from drawing the lightning to her.
Rubin studied the clouds. The weather was conducive to a thunderstorm, yes, but this one was much stronger than seemed warranted. The clouds rose higher, stringing in rows across the sky as if seeking a target … He turned that over in his mind. Was it possible that Whitney had developed a weapon to track Jonquille? A way to call to the electrical activity in her? Why would he do that? She said the members of the others tracking him had strange weapons that she had never seen before. They were interested in lightning as weapons. They had attended the conferences he had attended. Was it possible they did know about Jonquille?