Mercy (The Night Man Chronicles Book 3) Brett Battles (online e reader txt) 📖

inchworm, he slides his arm toward his body until his hand rests on his chest.

“Excellent,” I say. “Now slip your arm through the loop, then raise the rope high enough so you can get your head through it, too. Remember what I said before. The rope goes under your armpit, and the knot at your back.”

He gets his arm through with no problem, but the moment he bends his head forward to move it into the loop, he starts to lose his balance and slams back against the dirt wall.

“Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod.”

“You’re all right,” I say. “You’re not going anywhere.” While his left arm is in the loop, his head is not. “I need you to try again. But this time, don’t lean your head forward. Just put the rope over the top.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, Evan. Once the rope is over your head and your other arm, I can pull you up and you’ll be standing here with us in less than a minute.”

Evan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. At first, I think he’s too scared to do anything, but then he brings his left arm back in, raises the rope over his head, and reaches back out to hug the wall. Then his right arm moves slowly to his torso and through the loop.

“Good,” I say. “Really good. I’m going to pull on the rope now. Just a little at first to make it tight. Okay?”

He nods.

Using the lever of the bush, I do as I described, until the rope hugs his chest and the knotted end is raised behind his head.

“You ready?” I ask.

“Yes! Get me off of here.”

I don’t yank him up but pull at a steady rate, sliding him up the canyon wall. As soon as his torso is above the lip, Jar twists him around so that he can lean forward onto the ground. Once he can get a leg over the lip, I stop pulling and let him crawl the rest of the way to safety.

He lies there on his stomach for several seconds and then rolls onto his back, clutching the worn-looking stuffed tiger he’s been carrying tight to his heaving chest.

Jar and I both move a socially acceptable two meters away. I disentangle the rope from around the bush and begin rolling it up.

When Evan finally opens his eyes again, I say, “Are you okay?”

“I…I think so.” He sits up, pulls the loop off him, and drops it to the ground.

“You might have some bruises from the rope,” I tell him as I coil up the last of it.

“Okay,” he says as he jumps to his feet. “Um, thanks.” And without another word, he runs back toward the path.

I stare after him. I didn’t really expect him to hang around for social hour, but I thought we might get more than just “um, thanks.” After he moves out of sight, I look at Jar. “Kids these days, huh?”

“He is troubled,” she says.

“He’s a teenager. By definition he’s troubled.”

Her eyes narrow in a grimace as she studies me. “How did you know he was here?”

Oops.

Not only is she asking something I don’t want to answer, but I’ve failed to keep the surprise of her question off my face. I try to cover it with a comically raised eyebrow and say, “ESP.”

“You turned off the path at exactly the right spot.”

“It was just a guess.”

She gives me a hmmm and starts walking toward the path.

She bought my excuse, right?

Yeah. I don’t think so, either.

Chapter Four

Instead of returning to the Travato, Jar and I continue on our walk.

I wish I could appreciate the surrounding beauty more than I am, but Jar’s not talking to me. At least not with anything more than single-word replies.

Which is awesome, by which I mean it totally sucks.

But what am I supposed to do? I certainly can’t tell her Liz guided me to Evan. The only thing I can play is the it-was-a-lucky-guess card, but it would probably just make her more suspicious.

So I’m stuck with mostly silence, which turns to thoughts of Liz and what she did today. Leading me to Evan like that? I mean, it’s great, but it also makes me feel uneasy.

Check that. Uneasy is too mild a word.

It makes me feel…well, shaken.

How can I continue to believe she’s just a figment of my subconscious when she does things like this? Things that I have no way of knowing about?

Stop it, stop it, stop it.

She can’t really be here. She can’t.

I decide to do what I have done all the other times I was struck by this existential crisis. After considering the situation just long enough to make me feel troubled, I push the thoughts as far to the back of my mind as possible and lock them away.

Obviously this isn’t a permanent solution, but it will get me through the present.

Jar and I watch the sunset from a canyon lookout point along the path, the last vestiges of the day playing out across the opposite rim as the canyon itself grows dark.

Not only is it a feast for the eyes, but the view is powerful enough to break through some of Jar’s defenses, and she leans against me as we watch the final rays of the sun disappear.

Above us, the stars begin to shine, and soon a whole swath of ancient light dots the sky. With the night comes a chill in the air, which finally gets us moving back to camp.

I think everything is back to normal again until I catch sight of the Travato. I put the campfire out before we left but it’s roaring again, and in its flickering glow I see the silhouettes of two people sitting at the picnic table that came with our campsite.

A glance at Jar tells me she’s seen them, too.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out who they are. Squatters? Park rangers? People who were cold and thought nothing of using our firewood to warm up?

It’s not until we’re about