Read Online Falls Like Lightning by Shawn Grady - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shawn Grady
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banjo.
He huffed. Great.
Mountain people. He always thought the sound of banjos ought to be the nineteenth Watch Out Situation.
Shivner hadn’t said anything about people in the area. Caleb leaned back against a tree and tilted his head. He would’ve felt safer if it were a spot fire.
The music stopped, followed by the sound of rustling and footsteps.
An old man in overalls stepped out. Wild, straight salt-and-pepper hair fell to his shoulders. He retreated inside and then returned with an oil lantern in one hand and a metal pie tin in the other. He closed the door behind him and set off on a narrow path into the forest.
Right in the direction of the GPS coordinates.
He disappeared into the trees. Caleb cursed. The man’s presence could throw their whole plan off.
Caleb shuffled down the knoll toward the cabin and at the bottom leaned over the pathway, staring into the darkening forest. A tiny glow swung in the distance. He clicked on his helmet LED, cupping his hand over it to give just enough light to walk by.
Gnats swarmed. He kept his distance, careful to stay out of earshot. The man moved on target toward Shivner’s coordinates. Caleb paused and clicked off his light. Long drops of sweat rolled down his spine. The sounds of the forest intensified. He wondered if he too was being followed. Ahead, the old man’s lamplight disappeared. The distinct sound of creaking hinges followed.
He was close.
Another sound. This one like metal rapping on wood.
Caleb inched forward, willing his pupils to adjust to the night. Faint detail materialized. Tree bark. Branches. The moon peeked through the clouds and the tree canopy.
His boot struck a rock. He reached down to feel it and struck his helmet. His hands felt a coarse rock wall. Clicking on his helmet light and funneling it to a pinhead, he saw that he stood in front of an enormous granite boulder, twice his height and five times that in length.
Keeping a hand on the helmet light and another on the boulder, Caleb sidestepped to the edge of the rock face. He clicked off his light and peered around the corner.
A stone’s throw away in a small clearing he saw a faint glow shining from a timber-framed entrance to what looked like a mine or a bunker tunneled at a shallow angle into the ground. From it he heard whistling and the sound of small rocks clacking down, one by one.
The full moon disappeared behind the cloud cover. Caleb checked his GPS. He’d arrived at Shivner’s coordinates. The opening to the bunker sat recessed between granite boulders on one side and a steep hill on the other. It was situated in such a way that, even with the coordinates, had Caleb not followed the old man’s exact route there, he would’ve likely walked right past the bunker without seeing it, regardless of whether it was night or day.
Caleb fidgeted his fingers on the handle of his combi-tool. The old man had looked unarmed. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have a firearm inside the bunker or somewhere on his person. Maybe it would be better to wait until daylight. Approach him with the crew before they set out in the morning.
How had Caleb gotten himself in this predicament anyway? He should have known the plan wouldn’t go as smoothly as Shivner had presented it. Regardless, he walked forward. Step by step.
The whistling stopped.
Caleb held his breath. Sweat, salty and stinging, rolled into the corner of his eye. He blinked blurry halos. The methodical clacking resumed, the metered sound of rock upon rock, this time accompanied by the old man’s voice. Caleb moved closer. Each step in silence. The voice became clearer.
“Twenty-one. Twenty-two . . . Twenty-three? No, no, no. You didn’t do it right. Start again.”
Caleb heard the sound of small rocks tumbling onto wood. The flickering glow spilled out the entrance onto his pant legs. The lantern-lit room was bordered by wooden wall slats with bare earth in the cracks. Crates labeled Explosivo lined a wall. The
He huffed. Great.
Mountain people. He always thought the sound of banjos ought to be the nineteenth Watch Out Situation.
Shivner hadn’t said anything about people in the area. Caleb leaned back against a tree and tilted his head. He would’ve felt safer if it were a spot fire.
The music stopped, followed by the sound of rustling and footsteps.
An old man in overalls stepped out. Wild, straight salt-and-pepper hair fell to his shoulders. He retreated inside and then returned with an oil lantern in one hand and a metal pie tin in the other. He closed the door behind him and set off on a narrow path into the forest.
Right in the direction of the GPS coordinates.
He disappeared into the trees. Caleb cursed. The man’s presence could throw their whole plan off.
Caleb shuffled down the knoll toward the cabin and at the bottom leaned over the pathway, staring into the darkening forest. A tiny glow swung in the distance. He clicked on his helmet LED, cupping his hand over it to give just enough light to walk by.
Gnats swarmed. He kept his distance, careful to stay out of earshot. The man moved on target toward Shivner’s coordinates. Caleb paused and clicked off his light. Long drops of sweat rolled down his spine. The sounds of the forest intensified. He wondered if he too was being followed. Ahead, the old man’s lamplight disappeared. The distinct sound of creaking hinges followed.
He was close.
Another sound. This one like metal rapping on wood.
Caleb inched forward, willing his pupils to adjust to the night. Faint detail materialized. Tree bark. Branches. The moon peeked through the clouds and the tree canopy.
His boot struck a rock. He reached down to feel it and struck his helmet. His hands felt a coarse rock wall. Clicking on his helmet light and funneling it to a pinhead, he saw that he stood in front of an enormous granite boulder, twice his height and five times that in length.
Keeping a hand on the helmet light and another on the boulder, Caleb sidestepped to the edge of the rock face. He clicked off his light and peered around the corner.
A stone’s throw away in a small clearing he saw a faint glow shining from a timber-framed entrance to what looked like a mine or a bunker tunneled at a shallow angle into the ground. From it he heard whistling and the sound of small rocks clacking down, one by one.
The full moon disappeared behind the cloud cover. Caleb checked his GPS. He’d arrived at Shivner’s coordinates. The opening to the bunker sat recessed between granite boulders on one side and a steep hill on the other. It was situated in such a way that, even with the coordinates, had Caleb not followed the old man’s exact route there, he would’ve likely walked right past the bunker without seeing it, regardless of whether it was night or day.
Caleb fidgeted his fingers on the handle of his combi-tool. The old man had looked unarmed. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have a firearm inside the bunker or somewhere on his person. Maybe it would be better to wait until daylight. Approach him with the crew before they set out in the morning.
How had Caleb gotten himself in this predicament anyway? He should have known the plan wouldn’t go as smoothly as Shivner had presented it. Regardless, he walked forward. Step by step.
The whistling stopped.
Caleb held his breath. Sweat, salty and stinging, rolled into the corner of his eye. He blinked blurry halos. The methodical clacking resumed, the metered sound of rock upon rock, this time accompanied by the old man’s voice. Caleb moved closer. Each step in silence. The voice became clearer.
“Twenty-one. Twenty-two . . . Twenty-three? No, no, no. You didn’t do it right. Start again.”
Caleb heard the sound of small rocks tumbling onto wood. The flickering glow spilled out the entrance onto his pant legs. The lantern-lit room was bordered by wooden wall slats with bare earth in the cracks. Crates labeled Explosivo lined a wall. The
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