Whispers in the Dark Read Free Page B

radio.”
    “They should have a radio, but they’d have a better chance of reaching someone higher up, where the signal won’t be blocked by the peaks. This low, they’re flying under the radar. They won’t even show up on the government’s tracking system, so if they go down, searchers won’t know where.”
    Funny, I knew the phrase “flying under the radar,” but I’d never thought of it quite so literally. Blue gave Green a playful shoulder bump. “It’s probably nothing. Tom’s a worrier. He likes to make up dire scenarios for random strangers.”
    Tom laughed. “One of these days I’ll be right.”
    I chuckled with them, then thanked the men for the use of the binoculars and moved on. But I kept glancing in the direction the plane had gone, watching for smoke or any other sign of trouble. No doubt I just had my city instincts on alert in this unfamiliar territory, but I couldn’t help imagining what would happen to the victims of a plane crash out in the desert or on one of the peaks. I saw nothing more of the plane, though, so I had to trust they were all right.
    I finished the loop well before dark, cleaned up in the restroom, and sat at my picnic table to eat the second half of the sandwich I’d been keeping in a cooler since lunch. The block of dry ice would keep my yogurt and cheese sticks cool for a couple more days. Then I’d be stuck with dried and canned food until I made a trip into town, something I didn’t relish given that my compact car obviously wasn’t designed for the rough roads. Well, I hadn’t expected luxury.
    I had expected quiet, though. Yet the night filled with sounds as dusk fell. Birds, insects, and rustling in the dark. I strained my ears and tried to identify the sounds. Bird calls were easy enough. That low buzz had to be some kind of insect, and I convinced myself it was only creepy because I wasn’t used to it. Rustling in the bushes was harder to dismiss. I forced myself to breathe deeply and repeated in my mind, Just animals. Just animals. You’re safe here.
    A squirrel scurried up a tree nearby, proving my point, and I let out a burst of nervous laughter.
    I went back to my deep breathing. I didn’t want to crawl into my tent until I felt comfortable there, or I knew I’d spend the night imagining monsters sneaking around the thin protection of my nylon walls. I could sleep in my car, as I had done several times on the drive out, when I wasn’t sure of my security. But this campground would be my home for weeks. I had to get used to it, face my fears until they disappeared. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the cool air on my skin, the soft breeze.
    I heard voices in the distance and a thump like something being dropped. I told myself it was good to know others were within hailing distance. I breathed, and listened, and finally felt my heart slow and my muscles relax. I thought I might be able to sleep.
    A new sound drifted through the air, and my breath caught in my throat. I heard a soft sobbing, like a woman crying.
    Should I check it out, see if someone needed help? But no one was calling for help, and I couldn’t target the sound.
    It was probably some animal or bird, but still, I felt goosebumps prickle my skin. I went to my car for a sweater, trying to blame the drop in temperature for my chills.
    When I opened the car door, the overhead light came on, shockingly bright. I jumped and glanced around, feeling oddly guilty, as if I’d insulted the night. I grabbed my sweater, closed the door quickly, and stood for a minute waiting for my eyes to readjust as the darkness pressed around me.
    The crying seemed to ripple in the air, coming from nowhere and everywhere.
    And then it faded, leaving only the echo of its memory in the dark, and a great sadness.
     

Chapter 3
     
    I woke and stared at the bright blue nylon above me, wondering where I was. Then I remembered—away from it all. Yeah, right. I’d expected to have challenges; that was the whole