“In the tent,” he says, and retrieves it. I spread it out so we can inspect the penned-in area.
“It’s hard to know how accurate the gas station guy was with this box he drew. But saying it’s generally right, it doesn’t look like there are many water sources in the ranch. Just our mountain area and then these two rivers coming in from the east on the far side. Most of this is dry land.”
“So what’s that tell you?” Miles says, and his voice once again sounds normal. Whatever spooked him before has passed.
“I didn’t spot any buildings near the foothills. So I’m guessing that Avery’s house is near the rivers. Probably the adobe huts my clan is staying in, too, or else he’d have to bring them daily supplies of water. That means that the area we’re looking for is probably over here.” I trace from where we are on the western edge of the rectangle to the far eastern side where two blue lines branch out.
Miles whistles low. “That’s a long ways away.”
“Probably a whole day of hiking,” I say, and scribble some numbers in the dirt. “Yesterday the sun rose around six and set at eight. That’s a fourteen-hour day.” I hold the pen against the map’s scale and then up to measure the length of the rectangle. “If we left at dawn we might be there by nightfall.”
I look up to see Miles’s face. He looks like he’s thinking about it. “Or,” he says, running his finger along the bottom of the line, “we can drive there using a round-about route so we’re not spotted, get there a lot faster, and have the truck for whatever escape plan you’re cooking up.”
“Good point,” I say, pointing the pen at Miles. “I’m not used to counting motor vehicles as part of my assets. As for escape plans . . . I haven’t even thought about that. In my mind, we need to locate Avery, my clan, and wherever the guards are staying before we do anything else.”
Miles nods. “Well, since we decided on Plan A—the stealth strategy—that will probably involve stealing several cars and driving them out. As you said, we will have to know where the guards are located, as well as their vehicles, and any entrances or exits to the perimeter fence.”
I can’t help but smiling. Miles is actually allowing himself to show what he’s got—his ability to strategize. He trusts me enough to lower his guard. Finally.
“What?” he asks, seeing my expression.
“Nothing. Go on,” I urge.
“Of course, if we went with Plan B—the strength strategy—and fought them head-on, then if we win”—Miles pauses for emphasis—“we would seize their vehicles and drive on out of there. Which is pretty hard to imagine, seeing what we have to work with.”
“Which is . . . ,” I prod.
“Assuming that your clan has no weapons, since they’re being kept captive, we can count on two crossbows, a bowie knife, and a pickup truck.”
I laugh. “It’s a good thing we chose Plan A, then. But if it comes to fighting, we can count on the strength of my entire clan,” I say. “Oh, and hopefully some help from Tallie.”
“Tallie?” Miles asks, looking completely thrown.
“Yes, the mountain woman Poe is playing house-raven with,” I remind him.
“But . . . how is she going to help us from Utah?”
“Well, hopefully she’s not in Utah anymore. I called her from Arizona and asked her to come to New Mexico.”
“Wait. How?” Miles stammers. “I thought she didn’t have a phone or electricity.”
“She doesn’t,” I respond. “Before I left, she gave me the phone number of the general store that she hikes to every few days. I gave them a message for her, asking her to go to Roswell and wait for word. Hopefully she’s gotten it by now, was able to borrow a truck, and is on her way. Which means one more person on the outside, plus another vehicle.”
Miles just gapes at me. “And you’ll be communicating with her . . . how?”
“While I was down near the fence, I used the Yara to try to contact Poe. The way Whit called him when he freaked out in the back of your car. If it works—hopefully—he’ll come.”
“Wow,” Miles says. “Okay, then. I’ll add Tallie and the bird to our list of potential assets.” He looks back down at my map. “So should we leave tonight? Drive to the other end of the reserve, hide the truck, and scout? We could split up and run along the fence—I could go north while you go south until we hit the corners, and then both follow the fence west. If we split up we could cover more distance, and do it under cover of night.”
I shake my head. “We have to stick together.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Let’s say there are guards patrolling the perimeter, as we suspect. If they make their rounds at night, all they’ll need is a pair of headlights scanning that wide-open desert land, and they’ll find us in minutes.”