I moved automatically, activating our emergency radio network and distributing handsets to each brother. “Standard check-in protocol. Ten-minute intervals. Channel three for emergencies only.”
While I coordinated the professional search teams, Riley had taken over managing the civilian volunteers.Her approach differed from mine and was less rigid, but it was equally effective. She’d quickly assessed which tourists had outdoor experience and paired them with locals who knew the general terrain. Her analytical mind had created a tracking system using colored pins on a separate map to visualize searched areas.
“Team four has experience with wilderness rescue.” She pointed to a group of middle-aged men dressed in hiking gear. “I’ve assigned them to the creek bed. Team two includes a nurse and a former scout leader. They’re taking the playground and surrounding areas.”
The search parties lined up to receive their assignments, maps, and emergency supplies, which included whistles, flashlights, and water bottles, all organized in numbered backpacks I’d prepared months ago, hoping never to use them.
This was only Riley’s second day on the job, yet she handled the crisis as if she’d been preparing for it her entire life.
As the last team received their instructions, Riley approached my desk, her eyes shadowed with concern. “All volunteer teams are deployed according to capability and terrain familiarity. I’ve established a reporting system through phone lines, with all information funneling back to us.”
“Perfect.” I squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve been amazing.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “I’ve had…experience with crisis management.”
There it was again, that hint of a past she may not be willing to share. But now wasn’t the time to pursue it.
“Let’s join the search.” I pocketed my radio and grabbed my emergency pack. “We’ll need to remain close to manage operations, but I know this area well.” I pointed to a place on the map.
Riley nodded, her expression determined. “Lauren mentioned Marcy was fascinated by the luminooks. Children that age often focus on a single interest to the exclusion of everything else. If she thought she saw one wandering off…”
“The south ridge. A small colony of wild luminooks we established when we first arrived sometimes comes down from the higher elevations at dusk. They’ll be starting to glow about now.”
“That’s where I’d go if I were a curious six-year-old.”
Our eyes met again, that same current of understanding passing between us. Without another word, I grabbed two packs and handed one to her, which she slung onto her back.
As darkness began to settle over Lonesome Creek, we headed out, taking point on what was quickly becoming the most intensive search operation our little town had seen. With each step, my awareness of Riley beside me grew stronger. I appreciated her calm attitude, her quick thinking, and the way she’d seamlessly integrated into our emergency response.
Whatever happened tonight, we’d face it side by side.
Chapter 9
Riley
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the grassy terrain as Dungar and I set out toward the south ridge. Watching him prepare for our search had been like witnessing a master craftsman at work, with every piece of equipment checked twice, backup supplies distributed between our packs, and coordinates triple-verified on his laminated maps.
“Emergency flares, thermal blankets, first aid kit,” he said, pointing to each item. “GPS backup device, whistle, rope, and a flashlight with extra batteries.”
In my previous life, this level of preparation would have felt suffocating. I’d survived by thinking fast, adapting quickly, and trusting my instincts when plans fell apart. But watching Dungar’s approach didn’t make me feel trapped. It made me feel safe in a way I’d forgotten was possible.
“You know,” I said, adjusting my pack straps. “Mostpeople would just grab a flashlight and hope for the best.”
His dark eyes found mine, a hint of uncertainty flickering across his features. “Is it too much?”
“A missing child isn’t the time to wing it. Your preparation could save her life.”
Relief softened his expression. “You really think so?”
“I know so. Where I come from, the difference between preparation and improvisation is often the difference between…” I caught myself before revealing too much. “Between success and disaster.”
The terrain grew steeper as we continued across the plain, purple grass giving way to rocky outcroppings dotted with hardy shrubs. Dungar navigated the path with the confidence of someone who’d studied every stone and slope.
“There.” He pointed toward a cluster of boulders about fifty yards ahead. “The wild luminooks den in those rocks during the day. As the sun sets, they’ll start to emerge.”
Faint glimmers of bioluminescent light were already beginning to pulse. But my attention was drawn to disturbed vegetation along what looked like a game trail.
“Dungar.” I knelt beside a patch of trampled grass. “This looks fresh.”
