Phantom Game (GhostWalkers 18)

Maybe Dex was right. He needed to make certain they were moving in the right direction. It would be easy to get lost. The map in his head said there was a lot more stone at this elevation and fewer trees. Had he veered off course by that much? Crawley was beginning to doubt himself again. He glanced down at his wrist and the GPS, trying to pinpoint where they were. He couldn’t see the face of his watch clearly. The fog had penetrated the face of it, which was virtually impossible.

He blinked several times in an attempt to clear his vision, then wiped the watch on his thigh, slowing the pace. He was really becoming disoriented. He wiped his eyes to clear them as well. Glancing over his shoulder at his men, he could see they were having as much trouble or more than he was. Lance, one of his trackers, actually staggered and nearly went down. If the other tracker, Dwayne, hadn’t caught his arm to steady him, he would have fallen.

“We’ll find a place to stop where the fog is at its lowest point and there’s room for everyone to sit down. The sniffers can get ahead of us and see if they can ferret out any danger. If they can’t, Snake, it will be your turn.” He didn’t like the idea of putting Snake in the field. Snake ended things in a permanent way. There would be no prisoner to interrogate if they came across someone, but better to protect his men than run into a problem.

He kept to the narrow trail but continued at a much slower pace, winding in and out of the thinning trees, grateful to see the rockier terrain he’d been expecting. A ribbon of water gleamed silver and blue to their right, winding in and out of the trees as well. He remembered that little stream, and satisfaction eased some of the tension in him. Eventually, the game trail widened enough to appear more like the original hiking trail he had seen on the map. Not that many hikers ever went up this way. That was why they’d chosen this entry point. Even the GhostWalkers seemed to have forgotten to be vigilant in the steep forest miles above them.

That made Crawley give a little sniff of contempt. He was sick of hearing about the GhostWalkers and how dangerous they were. The attack on them had to be planned so carefully because they were enhanced. Well, big deal—so was he. So were his men. He’d heard the first team, the one Lily and her kid were with, were nothing but fuckups. The second team might give them more trouble, but they had problems as well.

The path widened even more, just enough to tell him he was definitely back on the main trail. Unfortunately, the fog continued to roll along the ground, winding around the trees and small boulders, burning over his skin and then retreating to show the vines on the trees and strangely smooth rocks. The sun shone down on the rocks so that they glittered with veins of what looked an awful lot like gold. The area was wealthy in minerals and, some said, gold mines. Crawley had no idea how true that was, but he wouldn’t mind stumbling across one of them.

Crawley slowed the pace even more so he could actually look at one of the larger rocks. He tried not to do more than glance, so none of the others could see what he was doing. If the rock actually contained a vein of gold, he would come back and mine that sucker. He’d be a millionaire from that alone. He didn’t want to stop where any of the others on his team might spot the gleaming veins in the rock.

“This looks good, Crawley,” Dex said. “We can send out the sniffers, see if they can pick up a scent.”

“I think there’s a place right up ahead, Dex,” Crawley said without pausing. “A little more room for everyone to rest while Hound and Bear go out.”

Dex didn’t protest, and Crawley rounded two trees and found himself with a trio of fairly significant boulders on either side of him. The trail cut right through them. The fog rolled along the ground and crept up the sides of the rocks, making it difficult to see their shapes. He caught glimpses of them. The boulders were taller than they were wide, stretching upward like thick fingers pointing toward the sky.

Crawley felt uneasy, a kind of dread knotting his gut, but the sun shone down on the middle rock to his left, just as the gray-lavender fog parted. Once again, he caught sight of glittering color that dazzled his eyes. He turned his head to look to his right at the trio of boulders standing there like guardians of a gate. The vein of gold ran along two of the fingers. His heart pounded. He wouldn’t need to work for a superior asshole who sent him out to fight rejects. He would have enough money to buy his own army of soldiers and bodyguards.