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There was no doubt in my mind they would have used them and returned to the prison far faster than we had escaped it on foot.
It was a miracle they hadn’t discovered us before they had.
And, small though it might be, there was still a chance they hadn’t yet reached the prison.
As I sailed overhead, I noticed a few pinpricks of light on the surface dotted like acne on a teenager’s face.
I reduced speed and pulled in closer.
I couldn’t make it out with my naked eyes.
“Computer,” I said, “zoom in on those fires.”
Computer brought the images up on screen.
A flurry of fires had been tossed across the sand like breadcrumbs.
A handful of fabric fluttered like ghostly apparitions.
It made no sense.
Why would anybody come here to camp?
My answer came in the form of a vehicle trapped in the sand.
Its front corner was buried deep in a sand trap.
I recognized the vehicle type.
It was what the prison guards used when they made their rare trips into the desert.
Could Agatha be down there? I wondered.
But where was the movement?
Where were the drones buzzing overhead?
At least one would have spotted me and pitched in my direction, scanned my underside to pick up the vehicle’s identification number.
But there were no drones.
It was eerily quiet without those buzzing hornets overhead.
And there.
I noticed something, half-buried in the sand.
It was…
It was…
Dear Creator, no…
The blood froze in my veins.
A body.
The armor glowed brightly in the roving moonlight.
