Rowan waited at the table until the other men gave her apologetic looks and left to go about their business. Jonah took Grace into the kitchen to sit with Allison, and cleaned up and set the leftovers aside for those who hadn't made it in for breakfast yet.
Room empty, and the others occupied, Rowan spied her backpack in the front corner. She stood, gingerly putting weight on her ankle. Only a twinge, okay, more than a twinge, but still, she was satisfied that she could walk. At least a little. Thankfully, both of her boots were sitting next to her bag. She dragged the bag to the nearest chair and attempted to fit her wrapped ankle into the hiking boot. Not happening. She pulled her sock off and unwrapped the ace bandage and shoved it in the bag and then pulled the boot on and laced it. Standing, she took a few tentative steps. The pressure from the boot definitely helped. She wouldn’t get ten hours in today, but she’d get a few. She shouldered the pack and slipped out of the mess hall.
Outside, Ro ducked around the side of the building and took a look around. The whole area seemed to be enclosed in the shape of a hexagon. The twelve-foot corrugated steel walls topped with wicked looking razor wire were impressive. Very twenty-first century, barbarian stronghold chic. And not what she’d expect from a simple, rustic hunting retreat. She surveyed her surroundings and racked her brain to figure the best way to get the hell out. Graham was undoubtedly right that none of his guys were going to be opening the door for her to leave.
A few of the giant oaks that shaded the interior of the compound had platforms built into the high branches, forming covered camouflaged lookout posts that probably gave a good view outside the walls. If she hadn’t known to look for them, she wouldn’t have even noticed they were there. It was possible someone was using one for watch. She didn’t see anyone, but it didn’t mean someone wasn’t there. On the far side of the compound, she could see the goats Zach mentioned munching away at the grass growing in a wire-fenced pen. A lean-to type barn provided shelter from the elements, and a large chicken coop sat off to the right of the goat pen. Rowan couldn’t count how many chickens fluttered around, but she estimated a few dozen. What looked to be some type of vertical garden, with plants growing out of pallet-like wooden shelves and metal mesh arches flourished not far from the livestock. A greenhouse about thirty feet long ran alongside the vertical garden. And a decent size stream ran across one corner of the camp, snaking under the walls to make its way in and out.
Bingo.
If she tried to scale the wall somehow and make her way over the razor wire, she’d end up sliced to ribbons, but the stream had definite potential. She just needed it to be a few feet deep, and she could swim right under the wall and out of Graham’s little kingdom. She didn’t look forward to starting her hike soaking wet, but it was better than bleeding from razor wire. She didn’t allow herself to consider the possibility of staying. Family first. That had become her mantra. And one added bonus: she’d be proving Graham wrong. Something Ro figured didn’t happen very often. Humility. Learn it, Conan. Checking the trees again for lookouts and coming up clear, as far as she could tell, Ro made her decision and hefted her bag. She hobbled toward the stream and the wall it flowed under, careful to keep as much weight off her now-burning ankle as possible. A pine tree offered decent cover, so Ro dropped her bag and started to unlace her boots. Might as well keep as much of her stuff dry as possible. She peeled off her socks and then stripped off the borrowed sweatpants and hoody. She kept the t-shirt on because otherwise she’d be skinny-dipping. She tied her hiking boots onto her backpack and shoved the clothes inside. She heaved the pack upward as hard as she could, watching it sail over the razor wire. The thump on the other side meant she was committed. Ro studied the stream. She really, really hoped it was deep enough.
Ro took a steadying breath and looked around the branches of the pine to make sure no one had noticed her. Not seeing anyone paying attention to her or her impromptu strip show, Ro stepped barefoot into the stream, shivering at the icy cold and—hell, yes!—hip-deep water. She slipped on the rock bottom and winced as a jagged edge gouged into the side of her right foot. Another tentative step toward the wall and Ro almost lost her balance on the moss-covered rocks. She felt a sharp stab of pain as her ankle rolled and swallowed her curse. Fuck it, she was determined. Taking a deep breath, Ro slid beneath the surface and pulled herself under the wall.
Graham’s radio squawked. “G-man, I think your pretty little chick has flown the coop.”
Graham jerked his head away from the wiring diagram he’d been studying and reached for his radio. “Say again?”