Chapter 7

His own small group was the last to leave the campsite. Once out of sight of the camp, they spread out about twenty yards apart and walked off along an arroyo in the north northwest quadrant he’d selected. After they had covered about a mile, he tried to send a telepathic message to his two partners. Stefan got it; Gerta either didn’t, or chose not to acknowledge him.

Although the morning had begun cool, as the sun ascended, the heat rose with it. They stopped under a big mesquite just below the crest of a hill, a tree large enough to offer decent shade. All three drank deeply from their canteens.

“Don’t wait for me to tell you when. If you get thirsty, drink,” Clay told his companions. “Neither one of you is used to the desert. The dry air sucks moisture right out of your body. You can dehydrate seriously before you even realize what’s happening.”