Page 1 of Silos and Sabotage

Chapter 1: The Hitching Post

What am I doing out here?

Ella Lawton rubbed her fingers against her temples, feeling like she was fighting her way through a thick fog. Except she wasn’t. The sun was blasting down on the two-lane highway beside her. She was on the shoulder, shuffling one foot unsteadily in front of the other. Her feet felt heavy, and her legs were trembling. She doubted they would hold her up much longer.

Am I hitchhiking?

Every few steps, she glanced down at herself, wondering why the beige and white plaid shirt, frayed jeans, and scuffed cowgirl boots she had on didn’t look familiar. Scuffed was putting it mildly. The brown leather uppers were cracked pretty badly in places, and the soles of her boots were caked with mud — the thick, red clay kind of mud that stained everything it touched.

It was strange how she could remember that simple fact, but she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten there. Or exactly wheretherewas. Or why she wasn’t carrying a purse or a suitcase.

Her head spun dizzily as she absorbed the details of her surroundings. The sun felt warm on her face and hands, which felt oddly comforting, but it was way too bright outside. She longed for the wide brim of a Stetson to protect her eyes from the glare.

Everywhere she looked were rocks, sand, and palm-sized prickly cactus leaves. Clumps of dried grass were wedged here and there among the rocks, and a gust of wind was driving a trio of tumbleweeds across the highway. One got snagged on a loose chunk of asphalt that had broken off the edge of a pothole and was lying loose on the road.

She watched the tumbleweed rock back and forth in the wind and finally break free of the jagged piece of asphalt. It finished rolling across the road and careened over the next stretch of rocks and dried grass. In the distance, craggy red and brown mountains rose. Little vegetation clung to their sides. It looked like the winding road she was on ran through one of the mountain passes ahead.

She could see a series of grain silos rising against the mountains on both sides of the road.

The rumble of a truck motor made her tense.

I need to hide!

She wasn’t sure where that thought came from. Or why it made her glance over her shoulder so fast that she lost her balance. She landed on her hands and knees, scraping her palms painfully on the gravel. She was going to have some colorful bruises to show for her clumsiness when she reached…

Her thoughts skidded to an abrupt halt at the confusing realization that she had no idea where she was going. She sensed she was nearing the end of her journey, though.

The sound of the truck rumbled closer, tempting her to stand up and stick out a thumb to flag down the driver. But what would she tell them? She didn’t know where she was, how she’d gotten there, or where she was headed next.

Before the truck rounded the curve and drove into sight, she gave in to her paranoia, dropped to her belly, and rolled into the ditch beside the road. For reasons she couldn’t even begin to explain, she wedged her body as tightly as she could against the wall of the ditch closest to the road, inwardly praying she wouldn’t be seen by whoever was driving past her.

The truck roared up to her hiding spot and slowed. Or stopped. She wasn’t sure until the driver revved his motor a few times.

“Ella,” a man called. “Are you out there?”

Though his voice sounded vaguely familiar, she couldn’t put a face or a name to it. He sounded so close that he must be parked directly above her hiding place, hanging out his truck window.

“I saw you get off the bus. I know you’re out there somewhere.”

Bus? I was on a bus?From the state of her boots, she must have exited the bus through a mile-long mud puddle.

“If you can hear me,” his tone grew wheedling, “I just want to talk.”

Don’t trust him.Memories shivered at the edges of the fog inside her head, propelling her to stay hidden.Since the man didn’t jump out of his truck and come lean over the ditch, she could only assume he hadn’t seen her yet.

She squeezed her eyelids shut, barely breathing, until she heard the truck roar away. Only then did she roll to her back and stare up at the sky. She was panting as if she’d run for miles. Every instinct in her was telling her to get up and start walking again, but her legs weren’t ready to cooperate.

Was it because of the surgery? Her hands crept beneath her shirt to her abdomen, expecting to find bandages there. All she felt was warm skin.That’s not right.There should be bandages. Thick ones. She’d had major, life-altering surgery, for crying out loud! Why wasn’t she still in the hospital?

Gage Hefner.

The name popped into her head, along with a man’s face. He had angular features with a squared-off jaw, a mouth that didn’t smile often, and short brown hair that was shaved on the sides like a soldier.Like my father’s hair.For some reason, the thought was accompanied by a gush of tears.Where are you, Dad?

The twist of anguish in her heart was followed by a bolt of sickening dread. Something had happened to him, something bad. She wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she did. Her sense of urgency increased with each memory that surfaced from the fog.

Gage Hefner.

She repeated his name inside her head, hanging on to it like a lifeline, since it was one of the few things she could remember at the moment with any clarity. That, and the fact that she needed to find him. Quickly.

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