Page 7 of Searching Blind

“I can’t predict what the mountain will do next. But moving away from this unstable area is the most sensible thing we can do right now.”

Joel nodded and swallowed hard.

“Is there a radio at the watch tower?” Theodore asked, taking off his glasses to try and wipe off some of the dirt smudging the lenses.

“There should be. As well as food, medical supplies, and everything else that we’ll need to ride this out until rescue arrives.”

“All right,” Bea said and clapped her hands together. “Let’s do this. Which way?”

Lucy looked at Sawyer again. What if this wasn’t the right call? Her instincts had been fucked since her encounter with the Shadow Stalker last year. She barely trusted herself to cook dinner, and now all of these people were relying on her to lead them to safety. The weight of it made her stomach churn.

What if her decisions cost them their lives?

What if it cost Sawyer his life?

Oh, God.

Sawyer, his pale blue eyes hidden behind the curtain of his wet hair, gave her a nod. “You got this, Luce.”

His words sent a warm shiver through her, chasing away her doubts for a moment. She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders back, and scanned the mountainside, picking out a relatively safe path that they could take.

“We go up there. Over the ridge and through that pass,” she said, indicating a narrow gap in the line of trees. “From there, it should be a straight shot to the tower. Stick close together and watch your step. If you see anything unusual, like water flowing over the ground where it shouldn’t be or new cracks in the earth, shout out.”

The group gathered their meager belongings and set off into the rain, following Lucy’s lead. She held her flashlight high, sweeping its beam over the slick, uneven ground. Theodore and Bea supported Joel between them while Chuck hovered close behind, glancing anxiously over his shoulder every few steps. Sawyer gripped Zelda’s harness and matched his steps to hers, trusting the dog to guide him safely through the treacherous terrain.

The rain seemed to intensify as they ascended the mountainside. Thunder rumbled menacingly overhead, and lightning split the sky in jagged forks, briefly illuminating the dark, dripping trees that loomed over them.

“How are you holding up back there?” she called over her shoulder to Sawyer.

“We’re managing,” he replied through gritted teeth.

Lucy could tell he was struggling. She longed to go to him, to offer a steadying hand, but she knew he would refuse it. His pride and fierce independence were part of what she admired in him. Still, she found herself glancing back frequently to check on him, watching as he picked his way up the steep incline with a surprising amount of grace and confidence.

That man was full of surprises. Despite his blindness and his concussion, he navigated the treacherous terrain with more ease than her hikers. He was practically a mountain goat. A very stubborn, very capable mountain goat.

And he’d hate that she just likened him to a goat. She laughed softly to herself at the thought.

“Want to share the joke with the class?” he asked, coming up beside her.

The startle of his voice so close to her ear made Lucy jump. She hadn’t heard him approach, the rain hammering on the leaves above drowning out any other sound.

She shook her head, even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “Nothing important. Just a thought.”

His eyebrow arched in curiosity, the small ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Were you thinking about me?”

Caught off guard, she fumbled for a response. “What? No!”

Sawyer’s grin widened. “The lady doth protest too much.”

Lucy felt her cheeks burn but couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or the cold rain pelting her face. “Oh, shut up.”

Sawyer chuckled as he continued onward, his grip shifting on Zelda’s harness. His amusement warmed Lucy in a way the rain couldn’t wash away.

Dammit, she liked him. Had always liked him from the moment he squeezed into that cave and promised he wasn’t going to leave her until she was safe.

But then he had left her once she was healed. She had to remember that. As far as he was concerned, his job had been done, and he had moved on. She’d been left to figure out the rest on her own.

And fair enough, really. He was a rescuer, not a babysitter. He had lives to save and people to help.

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