Chapter One

Day Three

Thunder rumbled and echoed behind her. Kimberley halted on the trail and turned to look back. The sky was growing dark, clouds piling up. She took off her old cowboy hat and wiped her forearm across her brow. There…she saw a distant flash of lightning. She began counting off the seconds until the sound of thunder reached her. She quickly did the math.

Five, maybe six miles away. The storm looked as if it was heading towards her. She put her hat back on, tugging the brim down to shade her eyes. If the map she had was right, there was a shelter of some sort about three miles further down the trail. On flat ground she was sure she could beat the storm there, but this damned trail meandered like a demented snake. Off to her left was the long, green bulk of the mountain. Small spur ridges ran off of it, sloping down towards a lake miles away. The trail went up and down these, sometimes taking odd little detours. Between the spurs were occasional small, rocky streams. While the trail itself seemed to have been kept cleared, it was rough going at best, and she’d have to push herself to beat the rain. Shrugging her backpack into a more comfortable position, she set off again, downslope.

From his upslope vantage point about a quarter mile away he’d gotten a good look at her when she paused and turned around. He’d even had time get his field glasses out. He’d been trailing her since late yesterday, and this was the first chance he’d had to see her close up.

From the backpack and the bulky flannel shirt she wore he couldn’t tell how she was built topside, but those were very nice legs coming out of those tan walking shorts. He zeroed in on her face. It was a good face: High cheekbones, aristocratic little nose, full lower lip, upper lip a bit thin, nice big blue eyes. Those eyes were narrowed as she looked at something far off, a small crease appearing just over the bridge of her nose. He could see her lips moving slightly as she kept watching. The face matched the picture he had, except for one thing. In the photo, she’d had long, really long, honey-blonde hair. The hair was the same warm color, but it had been cut so short that now it was more like a curly cap for her head. What he found most interesting was that with her hair that short, now he could see her ears. They were pretty enough ears, to be sure, but they seemed to tilt back a bit more than usual, were a bit narrow, which made them seem longer than they were. They had no discernible earlobes and they came to rounded points at the tips. The whole effect made him think of drawings he’d seen of elves.

The roll of thunder reached him, and a moment later she’d turned back down the trail and disappeared down the slope. Trying to beat the storm, he guessed. There was a rickety old shelter a couple of miles further along. She must be trying for that. He took out his small radio. Time to contact Kurt.

As she trudged along, Kimberley kept hearing occasional growls of thunder…getting closer, it sounded. She was tempted to quicken her pace, but on this trail it would be risky. There were too many loose rocks, too many slopes. The approaching storm came as no surprise to her. The past three days had been hot, dry and dusty, and it was about time for the weather to change. The timing was inconvenient, though. She topped another of those innumerable spur ridges and started down the other side.

She had the odd feeling that she was being watched. It had started yesterday. She hadn’t seen or heard anybody since, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. Well, these woods were thick enough to hide any number of people. Maybe i