Page 37 of Claimed
They were under the cover of trees almost instantly, slowing to a crouched walk. The ditch was narrow, allowing only one of them to go through first, and Nicki stood back to let Stefan take the lead. His op meant his ass sliding down the mountain if the dirt gave way unexpectedly.
It was preternaturally quiet as they crawled through the underbrush—no birds up here, probably scared away by the loud machines and people. It didn’t take them long to get to their destination.
“Hold up,” Stefan said, raising a hand. “This is it.”
Twenty-Six
Stefan surveyed the ditch as it cascaded down the mountain. Piles of organic material that wasn’t natural to the forest—the rotting rinds of fruits and vegetables, disintegrating paper and grease—littered the area, but the tree cover was less intense, allowing bugs and animals and rain to pound down on the detritus, returning it to the earth. There were other more permanent junk items as well. Utensils and clothing mostly, nothing of value.
“No way are we going to find something legit here,” Nicki said, coming up beside him. “They’re not stupid. This could be anyone’s junk.”
“Agreed. The fact that it’s here, though, lends credence to someone living in the warehouse. Not that anyone would necessarily listen to that proof unless we were in the midst of an international incident.”
“Still.” Nicki peered off into the trees. “If this is where they’re dumping stuff, it has to be the shortest distance to the warehouse, right? I mean, wouldn’t they cut a path of literal least resistance?”
“They would.” Stefan stood and bent into the foliage. “They wouldn’t be dumping anything in broad daylight, either.”
Silently, they moved out of the ditch and into the thick underbrush, following a trail beaten down by what appeared to be months of travel back and forth. The warehouse was only a hundred feet into the brush, the fence not gated but bent back and secured with thick twine, making a makeshift opening.
“Not very secure.”
“It is if no one knows it’s here.” Stefan pointed past the opening. More foliage loomed beyond the fence, the jungle ever encroaching, and then a flat asphalt drive and an equally blank wall. “If the workers never saw anyone dumping the trash, they wouldn’t have any reason to suspect this is here. And no gate saves the need to either explain why there’s a gate here in the first place, or to entrust your guards with keys that they’ll inevitably lose. With this setup, they can rescue the fencing as necessary, no one the wiser. The entire building and fence line will be torn down soon enough, I suspect, as construction ramps up on the ruins.”
Nicki poked at the fence. “Should we go in?”
“I don’t think so,” Stefan said. “Still not enough proof that there’s anything on the other side, and we’d be seen if that courtyard is open to the sky. But…” he smiled. “This definitely argues for no dogs. They’d never leave this open if losing dogs were a concern.”
Ari was close. Stefan knew it. Still, he forced himself to remain calm as he and Nicki traced their way back to the main ditch, then kicked at a few more mounds of trash. Bugs skittered away, but nothing more useful revealed itself.
“I say we go down,” she said, scanning the trail. “We need to know where this ends up, and what kind of climbing we’d need to do.” She flashed him a quick smile. “You know, hypothetically.”
The ditch went on for another few hundred feet before the cliff wall that had been evident below the warehouse showed itsface. The ground dropped off precipitously into maybe a thirty-foot drop. Nicki peered over the edge, but there was no denying the delight on her face.
“Not really worth ropes,” she shrugged. “How’re your free climbing skills?”
“Adequate,” Stefan said. “A descent isn’t necessary, though. We don’t know where that bottoms out.”
“True.” She picked up a good-sized rock, leaned further over the edge and dropped it. They heard the crashing of tree branches, then a distant splash. “Water,” she said. “Not deep. Probably where the ditch drains. Maybe houses beyond it, but I bet it’s a shared ravine system, probably more trash in it—yard waste, scraps, that kind of thing.”
“Snakes, bugs,” he said. “Rodents.”
“Excellent.” She squatted down and surveyed the rocky outcropping. “Seriously, they might as well have cut stairs into this thing. Totally no big deal.” She rolled back up to her feet and turned to him. “You up for it?”
They went over the side minutes later, their feet clad in climbing shoes, and ropes attached to their belts in case they were needed.
As Nicki had predicted, the ridge was thick with crags and handholds, and the cliff face angled out slightly, offering a gentler grade than straight down. Gravity was also on their side, allowing them to scramble more quickly than an upward climb would allow. As he’d seen before, Nicki proved to be a fast and nimble climber—better than him at discerning footholds and ledges. She went first and proved her value by calling out the path in a low, clipped voice. It took the guesswork out of the descent, and within a few minutes, they were hovering over a small stream.
“Not deep,” she said. “But the rocks could be slippery.”
Stefan peered down as well. “To the right?”
She nodded, and he noted the leaves and dirt tangled in her hair. She seemed completely oblivious to them as she glanced back at him and grinned. Then she was off the wall, dropping in a crouch with a small splash, making sure her feet were steady before she moved out of the small stream.
“That hurt like a bitch.” She laughed. “Hang down closer to the ground, and bend your knees more. There’s not enough water to give you any sort of cushion.”
He moved down quickly, following her direction. “You’re injured?”
“Eh, not really.” She was sitting on the grass, working off her shoes. She rotated her ankles and gave him the thumbs up. “Jarred me, that’s all. And thank God we’ve got dry socks and shoes. Because it’d be a long soggy walk back to the street otherwise.