Page 82 of Sheltering Instinct

When Tess turned to Levi, he had a GPS topo map open.

“We have to get down and away.” Tess pointed toward the line of rain. “When that hits here, we need to be inside some kind of shelter, or we’ll become hypothermic fast.”

“Agreed,” Levi said. “We’ve got to aim for the school.”

“They might have a bus or some other way to get the kids—and maybe us—south to safety.”

The children clung to each other as Levi pulled out his binoculars and scanned the area, comparing what he could see and the pictures on his GPS. “Okay, Tess, I have a plan. Can you weigh in?” He moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with her so she could see the map. “We have to go back down there. But it’s already burned. It might still be hot. We’ll have to carry the children. Their sandals won’t protect the bottoms of their feet.”

“What about Mojo?”

“I’ll put him on my shoulders and hold the bigger girl to my chest. Can you piggyback the smaller boy?”

Tess looked down the side of the hill to where the fire had consumed the fuel, then slid down the buffet table of dead vegetation, gluttonously eating everything in its path.

“One foot on black,” she said. “I remember that now. When they were burning the villages in northern Ghana, the only safe place was the area that had already burned.”

As Tess and Levi bowed their heads over the map, praying to the gods of direction and wise choices, they calculated that it would be a three-mile hike, and the children were already exhausted.

Levi pointed in the direction, getting his bearings, then slid his equipment into his pockets. “As Goose said the other day, ‘Time is flesh.’ We need to go now and push hard.”

“I’ll do my best to keep up.” With her hiking bag on her back and the boy’s hand trapped in hers, Tess stepped cautiously after Levi.

This trek was a lot slower than her rescue the other day when Levi held her in his arms, and they pelted down the side of the mountain. But that had been a three-man team helping with stability. Today, they didn’t have that luxury.

About halfway down, Levi shot a glance toward Tess. “You know what could make this worse?”

“Don’t give the air any ideas.”

“Black mountain rhinos,” he said with a grin despite her warning.

“That’s worse than anything else that might rear its terrified head?” She focused on Mojo. “Rhino-sour.” That word had such a strange feel in her mouth. “What would Mojo do?”

“Protect us.”

“Is that so bad?” Tess asked.

“Enrico warned me that Mojo turns berserker when he sees a rhinoceros.”

“You’re right. If we added a charging rhino and a berserker-mode Mojo into the mix, the situation would be—what did you used to call that? FUBAR? Yes, FUBAR.”

Mojo jumped onto a boulder, coat oscillating in the wind. He reached out and bit at the air. Then turned and barked at Levi.

Levi turned. “Tess,” Levi called, “your hair is floating.”

Tess knew exactly what that meant. The air was charged with electricity.

“Lightning protocol,” Levi yelled. “Get down here, Mojo.”

Levi dragged his pack off his back, shoving it under the lip of a boulder. “Tess, put your bag here. It has metal.” Mojo was by his side, and Levi unclasped his tactical K9 vest and slung it under as Tess shifted her gaze to sweep over the kids, making sure they weren’t wearing metal.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Levi said. “We need to have the least connection to the ground as possible. Spread out twenty feet apart. I know it’s hard on you kids. Fast. Fast. Balls of your feet, Tess. Crouch down, feet together, lower your head, cover your—” and before he could get the word “ears” out of his mouth, lightning zapped the air. Thunder roared immediately after. It was long and low, tracking slowly over the sky.

Tess felt the vibrations in the marrow of her bones and the fillings in her teeth.

“Stay still,” Levi yelled.

The boy stood, arms outstretched, stumbling toward his sister.

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