Page 11 of High Velocity

He, along with the game warden and the sheriff, have been the ones to be fielding the pressure from a variety of national and international government agencies. I would definitely not have the patience for that.

It’s clear the powers that be were not happy with his decision to give the team a twelve-hour break before we move our base camp to a lower elevation. The fact is, our horses need a break, and so do we. For the last three days, under the rising urgency, we’ve worked in teams of two, trying to cover as much ground in as little time as possible.

At this point, the entire team—myself, Jonas, and Sully included—have been out on horseback, alternating with the others to make sure someone was always covering communications and manning the drone. The problem is, with only four or so hours of rest between shifts for days on end, it’s not only our effectiveness that is suffering, it’s the horses’ concentration that starts to falter as well.

That’s why, after Wolff’s horse, Judge, slipped on a rock earlier this afternoon and he had to walk the lame animal back to base camp, Jonas made the executive decision to impose a longer rest. I’m sure Judge is going to need more than twelve hours, plus a checkup from Janey, but for the rest of us that should be enough to get reenergized.

Truth is, the chance of finding Juan Pérez alive is highly unlikely at this juncture. But that’s not something either the man’s family or the hovering government agencies want to hear, which is understandable. Until we recover his body, they’ll cling on to every last shred of hope.

My stump is sore when I lead Banner into the horse trailer. I’ve taken off my prosthetic leg whenever I had a stationary shift at base camp, but the last one was thirty-two or so hours ago, and that’s too long to be wearing my leg without any breaks.

The skin tends to start getting red and raw inside the silicone sleeve that holds the socket of the leg in place. After that blisters can form, and that could be complicated by an infection. If you don’t look after your stump properly, you can easily get yourself in trouble. I learned that lesson the hard way and have no desire to go there again.

“Jonas,” I call out when I see him heading for the communications tent Sully is starting to dismantle. “Tomorrow morning, can I have first shift in the tent? My leg is sore.”

I get a thumbs-up.

I don’t have to explain, he’s had a firsthand look at the effects of ignoring the signs before. It’s taken some time for him to trust I don’t push myself too hard. He’s made it clear if I’m the one who wants to be treated like everyone else, I have to be responsible for piping up when there is an issue. After what I put him and my mother through a few years ago, it was a challenge to earn his trust, so I’m not about to risk losing it again. Jonas may give you a second chance, but he’s not the kind of man who’d be handing out thirds.

“What are you doing for dinner?” JD asks when he hops into my passenger seat when we’re done packing up.

“I don’t know. I’ll see what I have left in my fridge, or else grab something at the ranch. Why?”

I ease my truck into the convoy down the mountain as soon as the horse trailer Dan is towing behind the ranch truck passes.

“Just got off the phone with Janey. She’s on her way to grab some sushi in town. I’m about to put my order in, are you interested?”

My mouth is already watering. After days of eating easy canned food or MREs, I crave the crunch of something fresh in my mouth. But I really need to get this leg off.

“Sounds amazing, but I should be getting home.”

I can feel him looking at me so I glance over.

“What?”

He shrugs. “Oh nothing. I was hoping you could drop me off at my trailer on the way to the ranch.”

That has my attention.

“The trailer?”

“Yeah,” he says casually. “Janey was gonna have dinner with Stephanie, so I’m meeting her there. She’s planning on checking in on Judge after dinner anyway, so I would’ve hitched a ride back to the ranch with her after to pick up my truck. But that’s okay, I can?—”

Despite my better judgment, I find myself cutting him off.

“I’ll take an assorted sushi and tempura platter and a side order of teriyaki ribs. If I’m gonna drop you off anyway, I might as well eat while I’m there.”

It’s a pathetically transparent excuse and I know it. So does he; from the corner of my eye the hint of a grin appears on his otherwise stoic face, which I try to ignore.

Bastard.

Five

Stephanie

I’m out on the back deck, enjoying the setting sun, when I hear the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway.

Assuming it’s Janey, I jump to my feet.

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