I wait. I think about the map that Juneau said she saw in the fire, and try to imagine something like it, but nothing happens. No tingle, no picture, nothing.
My mom used to meditate as part of her stress therapy. She would focus on something like a candle or a mandala to empty her mind. I stare at the edges of the flames, watch the dancing orange light, and try not to think of anything. But the harder I try to clear my mind, the more my thoughts wander.
And then all of a sudden my fingertips are buzzing and an image begins to form in the shimmering heat above the flames. I’m looking at a guy in a cowboy hat standing on the porch of an elaborate white McMansion. He’s got his thumbs stuck through the belt loops of his blue jeans and is talking to one of the muscle-bound camouflaged guys. An American flag is attached to a pole near the door, and it flutters back and forth in the wind. And in the distance, to the far right of the house, there’s a tree-lined river.
Juneau was right. Avery did build his home near one of the rivers. In her Reading, she said that his house was a good distance from the adobe village where her clan was being kept. I think about adobe huts and keep watching the image, but nothing changes and after a few seconds the whole thing disappears and I’m looking at a plain old campfire once again.
Juneau said that the Yara shows you what it wants you to see. So if it showed me Avery’s house, that’s obviously where I’m supposed to go. Any doubts I had about leaving the mountain disappear. I have a mission. The Universe or Gaia or whatever has shown me what I’m supposed to do.
This strong sense of purpose is completely new to me. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I trace a line on the map from where I am in the mountains to the two rivers flowing into the desert miles and miles away.
Scaling the fence and making a cross-country trek seems like a stupid idea now that I know where things are. My best bet is to do what I suggested to Juneau: take the truck past the other end of the ranch and come in from the east. It should only take a couple of hours to drive. I could get there before Juneau even reaches her clan.
That would give me time to scope the place out—to plan the best possible diversion before anyone knows Juneau’s there. My mind made up, I throw the tent bag over my shoulders and begin the hike back over the mountain to where we left the truck.
31
JUNEAU
THE SUN IS SETTING WHEN I REACH THE TOP OF the ridge. I look out over the valley floor below, and see a dozen campfires burning in one small area. Not far from them, a river snakes its way through the valley, reflecting the sunset on its glistening rose-colored surface.
I throw my arms out and Read the wind. I think of my father, and campfire smoke fills my nose. He is down there. I have found my people. I scope the area for car headlights or any other sign of the guards, but I see no outsiders. What if they are stationed within the adobe village and living among my people? I wonder.
Although my body is exhausted from running all day, I can’t stop and rest. I am almost there. I scramble down the ridge face, cutting my fingers on the sharp rocks in my haste, but I don’t even feel the pain.
Trees hide the valley until I reach another outcrop and get an unobstructed view. I can now see people walking around, can make out the edges of the adobe houses silhouetted in the firelight. The southeastern corner of the perimeter fence is visible beyond the village, and atop a section nearer me the red light of an electrical box flashes slowly on and off. The sun slips behind the mountains in the west—where Miles waits, I think with a pang of guilt.
The moon that was bright enough to read by last night hides behind a bank of clouds. The night is dark enough for me to risk the last part of my journey exposed, and I jog the half mile across the valley floor to the perimeter fence. I follow the slow flash of the red light until I am standing beneath it. It is a whole twenty feet above me, and almost invisible in the dark of the night.
I have been thinking about how to scale the fence. At first, I had thought about trying to deactivate the box. But the way the guards talked, it sounded like there is a system that monitors when the fences are disabled. The last thing I want to do is set off an alarm and alert the guards to my presence. It wouldn’t take long for them to reach the fence in a jeep, and even less time if some are already stationed among my clan.