Free Secret Identity by Paula Graves Page B

as she grabbed her gun from its position beside her and struggled to her feet behind him, catching up only when he slowed at the cave entrance. Morning light filtering through the trees outside bounced off the pale gray face of the cave entrance, providing just enough illumination for her to see the tension in Rick’s face.
“Stay,” he said, although almost no sound escaped his lips. “I’ll be right back.”
She wanted to protest, but her whole brain seemed cloudy, as if she hadn’t yet shaken off the effects of sleep. She checked the clip of her Smith & Wesson as quietly as she could and pressed her back against the cave wall, waiting for some sort of signal from Rick.
He reappeared in the cave entrance. “It’s clear,” he said aloud, his voice sounding thunderous after such a long period of hushed tones. “At least, right around here.”
“Do you know how to get out of here?”
“I know the general direction. But we can’t go back the way you came—you left a trail. They had plenty of time to follow it back to the motel. They probably have someone waiting there for us if we go back.”
Her stomach turned an unpleasant flip. “What if they’ve found your car?”
“We’ll find out soon enough.”
They headed out into the gray premorning gloom, although even the little bit of light inching its way into the eastern sky was bright after a night in the rocky bowels of the mountainside. Rick consulted the compass in his survival pack and headed them toward the rising sun. He seemed to know where he was going, and she was feeling too exhausted to argue. Nor did she put up a fight when he picked up her duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder.
They seemed to trudge through the woods forever, although when she asked Rick for the time, she was surprised to learn they’d been walking for less than twenty minutes. Her legs felt weak and achy, and her head was starting to hurt. He offered her a protein bar when they stopped for a second to regain their bearings, but she refused it. Her brain told her she needed the fuel, but her squirming gut warned that it had no intention of accepting food at the moment.
She did take a sip from the water bottle in her own pack. The water felt cold and delicious, and she had to force herself not to drink the whole bottle in one swig.
About ten minutes later, she heard the faint sound of traffic. The road must be somewhere nearby.
“There,” Rick said quietly.
She followed his gaze and saw a clump of bushes about twenty feet from a pale gray ribbon of county highway. “What?”
“See that clump of elderberry bushes?”
She wasn’t sure what an elderberry bush looked like, but she guessed he was talking about the clump ahead. “Yeah?”
“That’s the Charger.”
She peered at the bushes. If the big black Dodge was parked under there, it wasn’t readily obvious. Of course, there was barely any daylight at all. Perhaps it would be more visible once the sun came up.
“Still have that GPS signal detector on you?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He pulled it from the survival pack attached to his belt and turned it on. A bright light came on immediately.
Her gut tightened. “That’s a hit, isn’t it?”
He nodded, his forehead furrowed. “But it’s not coming from the car.”
“What do you mean?”
“This device can detect a signal within a twenty-five-foot radius. We’re at least fifty feet from the car.”
“One of us? When would anyone have had a chance to put a tracker on one of us?”
“Wait here.” He walked toward the car, stepping out his paces. About thirty feet away, he turned, looking back at her. Slowly, he walked back. “It’s not me. The light went off about twenty-five feet out.”
She held out her hand for the device, her heart sinking. Stripping off the survival kit and handing Rick her pistol, so that all she carried with her was her clothing on her back, she slowly paced off. Ten feet. Twenty. Ten more, and she stood about thirty feet away from both Rick