Free Righteous04 - The Blessed and the Damned by Michael Wallace

they reached the end of a stretch of slickrock where Jacob had kept his focus on the trail, studying the occasional patch of sand to see if he could see footprints. He turned to see David downhill, just starting onto the bare sandstone, his head bent away from the sun, his pace sluggish. Jacob and Miriam waited in the shade of a rocky fin that extended from the mountain to rise some twenty feet high on their left side. From here, the burnt red sandstone looked almost orange.
    “We should have left him home,” Jacob said. “He’s in no shape for this kind of hiking.”
    Miriam had slid out of her backpack. She lowered the water bottle from her mouth and shook her head. “No way. I can’t take that risk.”
    “He wouldn’t have been alone. There are plenty of women at Zarahemla who could keep an eye on him while he regains his strength.”
    “He’s an addict. If he wants to backslide, he’d find a way to lose them.”
    “He could lose you, too,” Jacob said as he shrugged out of his own backpack.
    “Not out here he couldn’t.”
    David arrived at last, panting and unbuckling his pack. Jacob, already rested from waiting, had been ready to keep moving and waited reluctantly while his brother gulped at a water bottle.
    “That’s one way to reduce pack weight,” Jacob said. “But we might not find more water until evening, so take it easy.”
    David guzzled away.
    Miriam had a pair of binoculars to her eyes, looking down at the two trucks, still depressingly close, and said, “I’ll share mine if he runs out.”
    Jacob pulled his map from a side pocket on the pack. There was something called Poison Springs ahead, which didn’t sound promising. Probably one of those alkaloid things that killed cattle. But at least a couple of the side canyons looked to have creeks that would still be running this early in the summer.
    They continued on their way, moving more slowly as the trail grew steeper. During the steepest part, it was almost like climbing stairs. David continued doggedly, without complaint, but at a creeping pace. Above the slickrock, the vegetation changed again. Juniper surrendered to scrub oak and ponderosa pine. Birds let out series of whistles, high calls, and lazy burring songs. At last, some shade. The desert released its infernal heat with the higher altitude, but Jacob knew this presaged a cold night.
    Suddenly, Miriam grabbed Jacob’s arm, then turned to signal David to be quiet. Jacob didn’t hear anything at first but the sounds of the high desert, and was about to say something when a voicecaught his ear. He strained, and a moment later heard it again. A man’s voice.
    “What is it, the enemy camp already?” David asked in a low voice when he arrived a few moments later, blowing like a spent horse. “I thought you said it—”
    “Shh,” Miriam said. “I don’t think it’s the camp.”
    “Me either,” Jacob said. “We’re still too close to the highway. They have to be deeper in.”
    “They’re coming this way,” Miriam said. “Listen.”
    Jacob heard a woman’s voice now, too. She said something in a commanding voice. “We need to get off the trail,” he said.
    “Where?” David asked.
    Jacob looked around. This part of the trail snugged against a rocky ledge on their left for at least fifty yards forward and back. The right side was a steep slope of loose scree and scrub, with the occasional pine clinging to a ledge as it descended into the valley.
    “If we turn around, we’ve got to cross that meadow before you get back to the slickrock,” David said. “And even if we get past the meadow without being spotted, once we’re down on that slickrock, they’ll see us all the way back to the truck.”
    Jacob came to a sudden decision. “Keep going. Might be something around the bend. A boulder or slot canyon or something.”
    Miriam produced a gun from a side pocket of her pack. She pointed the gun down and away from the trail while she slid in the magazine. “I’ll