Wicked Wings (Lizzie Grace 5)

“We’re talking about a teenage boy here; they believe they’re invincible at the best of times, let alone when they’ve been drinking.” I motioned to the upcoming street. “Left here.”

The truck’s tires squealed as he obeyed and then accelerated toward the end of the street. Which was, I noted as I motioned him right, Preshaw Street. The houses soon gave way to wilderness, and the track narrowed and became gravel, forcing Aiden to slow down. As the scrubby trees became more numerous, the pulse from the watch got stronger and stronger—and then, abruptly, started to fade again. We’d passed him.

“Stop,” I said, and then scrambled out when he had. I walked around to the rear of his truck and held the watch out in my hand. The pulse was strongest to my left. I motioned toward it with my free hand. “He’s in there.”

Aiden’s gaze swept the area, then returned to mine. He didn’t look happy. “There’s a lot of old shafts in there—I really hope he hasn’t fallen down one.”

“It might explain why he wasn’t scented.” It might also explain why his mom couldn’t get him on the phone—maybe he’d broken or lost it in the fall. But if his phone and his leg were all that he’

d broken, then he was one lucky kid.

Aiden opened the rear of his truck and pulled out a couple of ropes and some climbing gear. He must have seen my surprise, because he said, “I added this lot after our fall. I wasn’t about to rely on chance or someone passing by next time.”

A smile twisted my lips. “First off, let’s hope there’s not a next time, and secondly, unless you’re intending to carry that gear around with you whenever we head into the bush, it won’t do us any good.”

His smile flashed. “Maybe, but it will at least be in the truck for others to retrieve if we ever do get caught again. You give directions, but I’ll lead the way.”

I nodded and followed him off the road. Almost instantly, the scent of eucalyptus became more noticeable, and the soft crunch of stones underfoot echoed across the silence. This area wasn’t overly hilly, but there were plenty of old tailing mounds visible through the trees, all indicators of just how heavily the area had once been mined.

We continued on, guided by the strengthening pulse of the watch. Eventually, the beats within it drew so close they were almost indistinguishable from each other.

“Aiden, stop. He’s close.” I swung the watch around and detected a slightly stronger signal from the left. “I think he’s somewhere between those two piles of stone.”

Aiden raised his head, his nostrils flaring as he dragged in a deeper breath. After a moment, he shouted Joe’s name. I couldn’t hear a response, but Aiden grunted, satisfaction evident. “He’s alert enough to answer, so that’s one good thing.”

He pulled the ropes over his shoulder and handed them to me while he put on one of the harnesses. Then he attached one end of a rope to a sturdy tree and hooked himself up. “You stay here and call Tala. Tell her we’ll need an ambulance and the rescue boys with their gear.”

I did so as he disappeared behind the two rubble piles, then crossed my arms and tried to ignore the desire to follow him in; that would be nothing short of stupid, given I didn’t have the keen sight of a werewolf and had no idea how to spot the difference between solid ground and ground that had simply been thrown over a hastily boarded-up mine shaft.

The minutes ticked by; I shifted from one foot to the other, tension growing.

Then the rope went taut—an indication, perhaps, that he’d found the right mine shaft and was now climbing down.

A few more minutes went by. The sharp wail of approaching sirens shattered the silence, growing closer fast. Then Aiden reappeared, still wearing the harness but no longer attached to the rope.

“How is he?”

“Damn lucky.” His voice was grim. “He landed on some boarding about twenty feet down. Had he fallen one foot either side, he’d be dead.”

Relief swam through me. “And his injuries?”

“Aside from the shattered leg and a few deep scrapes and bruises, he’s okay.” He unbuckled the harness. “I put the spare harness on him and made sure he’s roped on, but with the state of his leg, we can’t risk moving him. Not until it’s braced and he’s got a truckload of painkillers on board.”

“Is the shaft wide enough to get a backboard down there?”

He grimaced. “Maybe. It’ll be a slow process, no matter how we decide to extricate him.”

Because most of these old mines were decidedly unstable—something we’d learned the hard way. Just thinking about our close call had my pulse rate rising. “Do you want me to ring Mrs. Hardwick?”

He shook his head. “We’ll do that once we’ve got him free of the shaft. She’ll want to come out here, and it’s far better for him and the rescue if she simply meets us at the hospital.”

I nodded. “Then I might head back to the café. Do you want to come back for coffee and cake once you’re finished here?”

“When have I ever refused the offer of cake?” He glanced past me. Tala and Jaz—another ranger—appeared, accompanied by a couple of men from the reservation’s search and rescue team. “Jaz, can you take Liz home?”

“There’s no need—it’s not that far. I can walk back.” After being cooped up in the café all day, it would be nice to get some fresh air.

He gave me the look—the one that said ‘don’t be daft’. “The last thing I need is you falling down another mine shaft, so humor me and at least let her guide you through the scrub.”