Whispers in the Dark Read Free Page A

tourists and adoring local girls. I’d made enough of a fool of myself without getting tongue-tied over his mouthwatering good looks. He didn’t know it, but he’d given me a test—a hard one. My hand trembled only a little as I retrieved my water bottle, so I convinced myself I had passed so far. One day, I would convince my body to stop panicking at the slightest surprise. For now, I just had to promise myself it would get better. Each time I faced my fears, I got a little stronger. I might not be back to normal yet, but I could see normal from here.
    I decided to finish hiking the loop, but I stayed on the main path. Much as I hated being lectured, Danesh had a point. I should set a good example for the few tourists still out.
    Two middle-aged men stood at a viewpoint looking across the canyon through binoculars. I paused behind them and tried to read the sign from three feet away. It said Pueblo Storehouses and had a sketch of the far canyon wall, with the storehouses outlined in red. That was one place I’d look for seed samples. I squinted, but with the shadows in the canyon I couldn’t make out anything on the far wall.
    One of the men lowered his binoculars and turned to me. “We can’t find them. Do you want to try?”
    I hesitated, but the men looked harmless enough, both about fifty and wearing polo shirts, one blue and one green, with shorts. I tried to search my instincts for any sign of danger and found none, besides the usual background anxiety. The man in blue handed me the binoculars and backed away to give me room. I smiled, remembering my comment to Danesh about studying through binoculars.
    I studied the diagram and then focused the binoculars on the canyon wall, below the far rim where I had already hiked on my way over.
    The man said, “It looks just like the sandstone, I think.”
    I scanned across the canyon wall and finally spotted formations that didn’t look natural. “I see them. The walls are rounded so they don’t stand out that well, but you can see a rectangular doorway.” I tried to focus the binoculars better. Something looked odd on one of the walls, like a large stone that wasn’t quite the right color. I couldn’t figure it out, but no doubt it would make sense when I explored more closely. Or had the storehouses been damaged? Maybe even recently, by someone leaving the path to look for treasure? If I found anything strange, I’d have to let Danesh know.
    I grimaced at the thought. Maybe I’d tell Jerry instead.
    I handed the binoculars back to the man and tried to explain where the storehouses were. I realized I’d been hearing a strange sound, a low rumbling. I glanced around, unable to tell the source. Surely not thunder, as the skies remained a clear, deep blue.
    “Sounds like a plane,” the man in green said. The two had lowered their binoculars and were holding hands. I felt myself relax a notch.
    We all scanned the sky as the sound grew louder. He had to be right about a plane, but it was creepy to hear that sound and not be able to see any source. I guess sound traveled far with no city noise to mute it.
    Finally I spotted a small, black plane, surprisingly low in the air. It seemed to be coming straight toward us.
    “I wonder why they’re so low,” Green said.
    “Tourists who want a close look at the canyon?” I suggested.
    “There aren’t any official tour flights. We checked. Could be a private pilot seeing the sights.”
    The plane veered sharply to the left, leaving a trail of white across the sky.
    “But they’re heading away now,” Green said. “I hope they’re not in trouble. With all the mesas and mountains around here, I’d want a little more altitude.”
    I imagined flying just a few hundred feet above the ground. Would it be comforting to have your landing so visible, or terrifying because one slip could have you slamming into the ground? “They’d call someone if they were in trouble, wouldn’t they? They must have a