house. Red and gray, vertical and horizontal, stable and loose, it was like the set for an alien planet out of some sixties sci-fi show.
Quinn tried to lead them through the lower passes, but at times they were forced to go higher on the hillsides to find the easier route.
After fifteen minutes, Nate took over the lead. Quinn kept an eye on him, looking for signs of fatigue or struggle, but his apprentice pressed on as if both his legs were whole.
“I see the road,” Nate said a few minutes later.
He was about thirty feet ahead of Quinn. He had crouched down near the top of the next hill.
“Empty?” Quinn asked.
“Seems so,” Nate said.
“Any sign of sensors?”
“Hold on,” Nate said.
Nate pulled out the sniffer.
“I’m not picking up anything,” Nate said. “But the road’s just at the edge of this thing’s range.”
He set the sniffer down and removed a pair of small but high-powered binoculars out of his pack. Quinn watched as Nate moved his head from right to left, then returned to a spot just off center and stayed there for a moment.
“There’s something down there that might be a motion sensor,” Nate said. “Come take a look.”
Quinn climbed up beside him and pulled out his own binoculars.
“Where?” he asked.
“See that rock that’s leaning about twenty degrees to the left?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” Nate said. “Now go another ten feet to the right, and closer to the road, maybe three feet from the edge. Mounted on top of a small rock.”
Small was relative out here. The small rock Nate was talking about was the size of a recliner. There was a bump on it that seemed out of place. Quinn adjusted his zoom to get a better look. It was hard to tell, but there was no question that it was man-made. A square box with a little rounded dome on top. He retrieved his camera and shot off several images so they could take another look at it back at the motel, then match it up to a specific product.
“This is about as close to the road as we should get. If we go down there, they’ll know it right away.” Quinn looked back behind them. “We can parallel it from over here.”
“Okay.”
“Keep the sniffer on.”
“I guess this means we’re at the right place, at least,” Nate said.
“Doesn’t mean anything yet.”
They started out again, this time heading toward the Sierras, always keeping a mound of rocks between them and the Yellowhammer road. Every five minutes they would check the road again, and each time they spotted more of the sensors.
“That one looks brand new,” Nate said at one stop.
The sensor he was referring to was only a dozen yards away, at the base of the hill they were perched on top of.
Quinn held his hand out, and Nate gave him his binoculars. One look at the device confirmed Nate’s assessment.
“Probably we can rule out that they were left by somebody else,” Nate said.
Quinn wasn’t surprised. It was the assumption he’d been working under since they’d seen the first one. Still, it would have been nice to discover that the sensors had been no more than junk left by a previous occupant. But nothing was ever that easy.
“Come on,” Quinn said as he pushed back from the edge.
Distance was hard to tell out here. Their route was far from straight. Instead it wound through the boulder graveyard. But after another ten minutes, Quinn figured they were about three miles from the highway.
“The map shows an obstruction crossing the road,” Quinn said. “If I’m right, we’re less than a quarter mile from it. It’s got to be a fence. My bet is it goes around the entire perimeter of the facility. Keep an eye out. We don’t want to get too close.”
Nate was a good twenty feet ahead of him. He made no physical indication that he had been listening, but his voice came through Quinn’s earpiece loud and clear. “Copy.”
Two minutes further on Nate cut to the left for another road check.
“I’ve got movement,” Nate said. His voice was hushed but urgent. “A man.”
Quinn stopped at the bottom of the slope. “Did he see you?”
“No,” Nate said.
