AS WE LEAVE VAUGHN AND HEAD SOUTH, WE drive over a small ridge to find ourselves facing a road that continues straight ahead until it gets so tiny that it disappears on the horizon. The land around us is flat and brown. Off in the distance on one side is a faraway mountain range. The green trees on its slopes make it stand out like an oasis in the middle of sand dunes.
I pull off the road and put the truck in park. “There’s no way we can hide in the middle of this wasteland,” I point out. “They’ll see us coming from miles away.”
Besides getting that wild glint in her eye when she told me to speed away from the bar back in Vaughn, Juneau seems completely unafraid. She’s in leader mode again, 100 percent practical. No room for emotion.
She unfolds the map and points to where we are, a couple inches northwest of the penned-in rectangle. “It looks like the guy’s ranch is mostly desert,” she says, “but over here”—she puts her finger on the green—“it extends to include some of those mountains up ahead.”
“Should we head for those, then?” I ask.
Juneau studies the horizon, and then says, “Let’s think about this like a hunter would.”
“You think like a hunter. I’ll think from a military tactics point of view,” I say. Juneau shoots me a skeptical look. “Remember my skill set? Video games and movies: best tactical training you could ask for!” I wink and Juneau rewards me with a smile.
Then, pressing her lips together, she considers things for a full minute before speaking. “Say that Avery and I are both predators and my clan is our common prey. Avery’s already captured them, but he wants to trap me too. If Whit is working with him and gave me the map, he knows I’m coming. He’s using his catch to lure me in. Daring me to steal it so he can trap me, too. We have to swipe Avery’s prize from under his nose while he waits for us to do it.”
She pauses and looks at me.
“Okay, then,” I say, translating what she’s just said into the storyline of one of the war games I’m so good at. “I can think of two ways to do that: stealth or strength. With the stealth option, we’ll have to somehow trick them or distract their sentries so that we can help your clan escape while they’re not looking. Strength option means that we fight Avery’s army head-on, which would involve surprise, speed, and heavy weaponry.”
“Plan A’s looking kind of good right now,” says Juneau.
I nod. “Either would require a good knowledge on our part of where everything is and what we are up against.”
Juneau nods at me, a glimmer of respect in her eye. “You’re pretty good at this,” she says.
“Well, it’s not quite as impressive as sticking my entire fist in my mouth,” I say.
“False modesty,” Juneau lobs back.
“Oh, sorry. I am AWESOME!” I say, striking a muscle-man pose.
“Better,” she says, grinning. She looks back down at the map. “Now, my first reaction would be to want to drive straight across the desert, and then once we’re near the gate, leave the truck and go the rest of the way on foot, hiding along the way. To get to my clan as quickly as possible.”
“Won’t they spot the truck?” I ask.
“Even if Avery has a few dozen men, this is a huge area to guard,” Juneau says, tapping her finger on the rectangular area, “But, yes—if someone is patrolling the perimeter, like I saw in the Reading, they will at some point see the truck.”
I frown at Juneau, skeptical. “You said that’s your first reaction. What’s your second?”
“To use restraint. Head for the mountains and take more time scouting the area from the outside before breaking in. We could take this road,” she says, pointing to a tiny black line on the map. “It’s a little farther and will take us longer, but we avoid the ranch and stay hidden. We could drive the truck as far as possible into the trees, and then hike till we hit the corner of the perimeter fence that extends into the woods.”
“I vote for the creeping-around-in-the-woods option over the barging-in-like-gangbusters one,” I say without hesitation.
Juneau nods. “Normally in a situation like this I would ask for a sign from the Yara. But seeing the future would require an oracle—” she begins. I put my hand up in a hold-everything gesture, and she continues, “But we’re not going there.”
There is an uncomfortable silence, which she finally breaks. “I want to go straight for my clan. To get this over with. But I’ve learned in the past that my emotions aren’t always an indicator of the best possible plan. I have to go deeper, to my instincts. And those tell me that the best thing to do is to set up a base camp in the woods, do surveillance of the ranch, and assess what advantages nature offers us before we act.”
“Then it’s decided,” I say, and putting the truck in gear, I head toward the mountains. I keep an eye out for any vehicles heading our way, but our car is the only thing moving for miles around.
We ride in silence for a few minutes before I say, “Can I ask you something about your religion?”
“I don’t have a religion,” Juneau says, looking curious. “Oh—do you mean my clan’s relationship with the Yara?”