Page 55 of A Mile of Ocean

As soon as he stepped inside, the wooden floorboards creaked under his weight. She heard the eerie footsteps from the back door. Shining her light around, she found the way was clear to enter and took her first tentative step into the darkness.

Pieces of broken furniture were strewn about, including a wobbly chair and a piece of lumber someone had used for a tabletop held up by two wobbly sawhorses.

Trent held up a flashlight, the beam illuminating the trash on the floor: empty wrappers from an assortment of candy, chocolate, and protein bars, as well as empty tin cans of peaches and tuna. He checked behind a pile of wood, his gun aimed at whatever popped out.

Their breathing enveloped the space as Trent’s gaze darted around the one-room shack, searching for any clue that might lead them to their target. His heart thudded in his chest as he moved deeper into the place, every step causing the floorboards to groan under his weight.

His mouth went dry when he explored a webby corner stacked high with wooden crates and realized they were full of homemade pipe bombs.

Across the room, Savannah moved slowly. Her fingers on one hand gripped the flashlight while the other wrapped tightly around the shotgun. She inched her way through the darkness with the faint beam of the flashlight guiding her.

He motioned toward the crates.

Her eyes widened as she realized what they’d found and that this place could blow up at any moment. “We need to leave. Now,” she mouthed.

He nodded, but then his eyes picked up a glint of something on the floor. He bent down and gingerly picked up a pocket-sized spiral notebook by the plastic ring at the top. The covering was wet from the rain and well-worn around the edges as if it had been read repeatedly.

“What is that?” she whispered.

He placed the notebook on the rickety tabletop and took out his pocketknife to delicately lift each page without ripping them.“Some of the pages are stuck together, almost illegible, but I can make out some notes about the ranch.”

“What kind of notes?”

“Here’s a hand-drawn map. It’s small, but it’s detailed correctly. The whole layout of the ranch is laid out over several pages. Our names are written down next to what kind of vehicles we drive. Everybody’s work schedule is mentioned before we started the patrols.”

“Why wasn’t this place searched earlier?”

“It was, early on. He must’ve circled back to this spot later. There’s no telling how long he’s been living here.”

“From the looks of things, he’s been here longer than a week. He could be watching us right now,” Savannah murmured, her voice barely audible.

Trent’s jaw clenched at the thought, his mind racing through the implications of their discovery. “This can’t wait until morning. We need to get this back to the house. Trish might be able to get fingerprints off of it. But I’m wondering if we should use the radio. Maybe he’s been monitoring us on the same frequency.”

“That would explain things.”

“Yeah. But we should message Tate and Blake to let them know we’re entering their grid. Otherwise, we could get shot. I hope I remember enough Morse code from earning mySigns, Signals, and Codes merit badge.”

“You were a Boy Scout?”

“Hey, are you kidding? I wore out my Official Scout Signal Set.”

She sputtered with laughter, breaking the tension. “You really are a nerd, aren’t you?”

“It’s been my experience that nerds get things done.” Carefully tucking the notebook into the inside pocket of his jacket, he formulated a plan. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll ride intothe next sector, where Tate and Blake are. We’ll do a relay until we get this to Trish Vosberg.”

He led the way out of the shack, his movements deliberate and calculated as they made their way back to their horses. The night seemed even darker now, heavy with the weight of their discovery. Each step felt like a countdown to something ominous, and Trent couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. At the halfway point, he took out the radio. Using Morse code, he notified Tate to switch to a secondary channel so they could talk. He had to repeat the message several times before Tate picked up on the change and acknowledged it.

“Painted Heart to East Unit. What’s up? Over,” Tate relayed.

“This is East Unit to Painted Heart. We found the shack he’s been living in,” Trent explained. “He has enough explosives, specifically pipe bombs, to blow up Pelican Pointe. We found a notebook listing all kinds of information about the ranch and everyone on it. I’m hoping we get fingerprints. But right now, we need the bomb squad out here to take possession of the explosives. We’re entering your grid. Over.”

“Painted Heart to East Unit. Show us on the map when you get here. I’ll send Blake to secure the area. You get to Base Camp with the notebook. Over and out.”

The ride to Painted Heart was tense. Every shadow seemed to hold a hidden threat.

Tate met them at the outer rim. “I couldn’t believe anyone was using Morse code. That threw me. Took me a while to remember you knew it by heart.”

“Took me a while to send it,” Trent responded. “From what we saw, it looks like there’s only one subject doing this. But he’s methodical and calculating. He must’ve observed us for quite a while before he moved that Friday night on Granddad. That means he’s patient and willing to wait for the right opportunity. Has everyone switched to the secondary channel?”

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