Angela aimed the flashlight into his face.
Flinching, the captain brought the hand holding the radio up to shield his eyes. “Hey!” It sounded more like,
“Sorry,” Angela said. She moved the beam down so it pooled on his chest. “Where?”
“About one hundred sixty-one meters away. She left footprints in the soil,” he replied.
Angela gazed at the sky; stars glittered brightly against the black velvet. “Have them mark the area and call everyone in, but I want them back at five in the morning.”
She studied the man again. Like the rest of the unit, he wore a dark green uniform, signifying area police. His face was beaded with perspiration, and his hair, which she knew was cream in color, clung to his head in a darkened mess. He wasn’t a bad-looking man. Tall, lean muscles, defined cheekbones, strong jaw, perfect mouth; and when his lips broke into a smile, which happened a lot, his whole face lit up.
Regardless, Captain Jones fell short by the detective’s standards. His hair leaned more toward a yellow than white, and his skin was darker than the alabaster of perfection. She did like his eyes, though. They weren’t the clear azure color of the perfect being, but they were interesting, the warm bluish-green of the deep ocean.
As she scrutinized him, he pulled out the radio and relayed her orders. Static sounded, followed by someone answering,
The captain whipped out a bandana and sopped his forehead. “It sure is hot,” he remarked, looking at her.
Hot was an understatement. Angela found Missouri not only to be hot, but very humid. She’d spent the better half of a day swatting at the persistent gnats circling her head. She flipped her head up in acknowledgement, which apparently gave him the go-ahead for more small talk.
“You’re staying in Warrensburg, right?”
“Yes,” she answered curtly and returned her attention to the map. From the corner of her eye, Angela watched Captain Jones’ shadow as his weight shifted from one foot to the other as if waiting for a more elaborate explanation. Irritated, she rolled up the map and shoved it under her arm. “I need the dogs returned to the kennel.”
“I’ll take care of it for you.”
“Thank you,” she replied, as she walked toward her car parked on the side of the access road.
“See you tomorrow.”
Angela lifted her hand in a halfhearted wave, then opened the door of the green Volkswagen Beetle and slid inside. She peered at Dyllon, who was standing next to the cardboard table she’d just left. The captain’s arm flapped up and down as he gave orders into the handheld radio.
She hoped he wasn’t going to pose a problem. The discipline in the smaller communities seemed to be lacking. Something she’d discuss with her superiors when she returned successful. Starting the car, Angela eased onto the blacktop and drove into town.
7
Tremors rocked Ellyssa’s body and her teeth clacked together like castanets. Even though the sun hovered in the eastern sky, and she could feel the heat on her skin and hair, zero warmth sank into her flesh. She ran her tongue over her dry lips, rough and swollen and crusted with blood. Thirst clawed at her throat.
Was she sick?
In all her life, Ellyssa had never experienced illness. Diseases had been eradicated in the general population, but this was a different type of sickness, caused from the injuries.
She’d never felt so vulnerable. So weak.
She grabbed the empty bottle nestled under her arm and turned to face the bubbling stream. Refreshing water lapped over the rocks, splaying droplets glittering seductively under the sun. Her tongue flicked out, like a snake’s, as if she could pull the moisture from the air.
Ellyssa shifted onto her elbows. Her muscles seized. Pain licked through her body, and a cramp bunched her calf muscle. Pressing her face into the grass, she stretched her toes outward. The cramp lessened to an irritating pull.
The water babbled, mockingly.
How far was it? Five meters?
Reaching her arms out in front, Ellyssa dug her fingers into the soil and pulled. Her body scooted along the grass. She wrapped her fingers around some shoots and a rock embedded in the ground before heaving herself closer to the edge of the stony shore. Exhausted, she lowered her head and rested on a flat river stone.
Displeased, Angela stood at the bank of the stream where the dogs had lost the scent of the escapee. She couldn’t believe it. The trail had been so easy to follow from the field to the woods, before disappearing at a tree. It’d taken the dogs the better half of the day to pick up her scent again. Now, another obstacle. She sneered at the running water.
Every minute that ticked by led Ellyssa farther and farther away.
Her hands clenched into tight fists, the detective looked back and forth between the German Shepherds as they circled around with their noses to the ground and their tails wagging. Occasionally, one of the dogs broke through the water to the other side where it would continue its search.
Four members of the search team, two assigned to each dog, stayed close to the canines. Another group of three trailed behind. All of them had Electroshock weapons hanging from the sides of their utility belts. The vision of perfection was to be brought back alive.
“There is no telling which way she went,” Dyllon said, breaking her out of her reverie.
Slack-jawed, Angela glared at him. As if she needed him to inform her of the obvious. “I’m well aware of the situation,” she muttered.
“I was just saying.” Captain Jones waved his arm in an arc in front of him, like he was showing her the scenery. The remaining part of the sentence died on his lips when her expression twisted into a scowl. Shoving his hands into his pockets, the captain turned away and looked off into the forest. “How would you like to proceed, Detective?”
“Search around the trees closest to the water within a fifty-meter radius. If your men have to leave the stream, make sure they understand to go back to the exact point where they left.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her mouth curved down. “She’s not your average Renegade. She is smarter, faster, trained, and can be quite deadly.”
Dyllon turned back toward her with a quizzical expression.
“Make sure your men understand the situation.”
“Maybe, if I was better informed, you would find the whole unit more useful.”
Raising her brows, she responded, “I have told you everything that will be useful in the investigation. You make sure your team understands.”
She left Dyllon in charge and went back to the base camp, which was pitched close to the point where Ellyssa had first entered the wooded area. A few other people milled around the site. Two men were checking supplies, while a man and a woman were gridding a map into two-and-a-half centimeter squares.
She went to the table where her map lay already gridded. It was an older map from the 1940s, but it showed all the small townships that’d existed during the time; the modern charts lacked the details of towns that had been abandoned.
A few years after The War, people had been instructed to move to the bigger cities where they could work or in the outskirts to farm. Having all citizens in close proximity led to better control. All the smaller communities were now rotting away.
She used a compass to measure the equivalency of fifteen kilometers on the apex and drew a circle around
