Page 12 of Silent Shadows

“Mixed. Desert, canyon, some forest pockets. Remote enough to avoid heavy traffic.”

“Good for drones,” he says, already thinking ahead.

Maya nods slowly. “Logistically, it’s doable. We’d need to restock, reroute⁠—”

My phone buzzes on the counter.

I glance down and see it’s my brother, Owen.

He’s been hard to reach for the last year or so, on base at Area 51. Owen can’t really talk much, let alone tell us anything about what he’s working on. Since our parents died, it’s just us—and I’d deny it, but I miss him.

Maya sees it and elbows me. “Take it. We should all check in with him.”

I nod, hesitating for half a second before answering. Owen’s the grumpy older brother to not just me, but to all of us. He was on the crew for a while doing investigative work, better known as hacking. His work on extraterrestrial activity eventually caught the Air Force's attention, and he left. He’s brilliant but has a bit of a penchant for sticking it to the man. How a man who's been arrested multiple times got a job with the government, I have no idea.

“Hey, you’re on speaker,” I say.

There’s a beat of static, then his voice cuts through—flat, grounded, exactly what I expect. “You guys still playing in the woods?”

Taylor grins. “We prefer the term ‘field research.’”

“Pretty sure you prefer the term vibes, Tay,” he shoots back. “So, did you find anything?”

I pause.

“No,” I admit.

“Shocking,” he deadpans.

I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “It was one site.”

“It’s always ‘one site,’” he replies. “Then another. Then another.”

“And eventually,” I say, sharper now, “we get something.”

There’s a beat of silence on the line.

“You still believe that?” he asks.

The question hits harder than it should.

“Yeah,” I say, quieter this time. “I do.”

Another pause.

Then: “Good.”

I blink. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Owen says. “Someone’s gotta.”

Taylor shoots me a look like What does that mean? and I shrug.

“What’s your situation?” I ask. “Same cases?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Same classified nonsense. Same desert. Different day.”

I chuckle at his dismissal of such a monumental opportunity. People would kill for his job. “Owen, Area 51 isn’t just a desert; it’s a highly controlled⁠—”