Page 76 of Chased

She realized what he was saying. “You really think they might spend that much money just to get at me? They’d try to get onto the Ridge?”

“Some people will try anything.” She realized then all the things he must have seen—all the knowledge he had about the terrible things people do to each other.

He reached out and took her by the jacket lapels, pulling her closer. “Being in a safe place like the Ridge is good,” he said quietly. “Me being here to protect you is better. But the most important thing is you. You need to be prepared.”

And that’s what he wanted, she realized. He wanted to prepare her. A rush of love went through her.

“Okay,” she said. “Just tell me what to do.”

He said, “Your lapin is always aware of her surroundings, right? Safe places. Escape routes.”

She nodded. “It’s what we do.” She loved that he got that—and that he’d been thinking about how to use her bunny nature as an asset.

“Okay then. If you ever have to get off the Ridge and you can’t use the road, come the way we just came. Up the western slope out of the valley, through the woods to the mountainside. The other way, east, leads to a steep dropoff. Great for the view; bad for escape.”

He started pointing out landmarks and compass directions using the sun and shadows as a guide—things her lapin would understand. A few times they got on the ATV and drove a bit, so she could see the shape of the land from various directions, making sure Vixen would recognize this place again, and how to get here.

“Keep heading west, with that peak on your left.” He pointed, then drove slowly, letting her take in the terrain. He stopped at one point, and got off and led her down into the trees.

“There’s a stream here.” She already knew—she could smell the water. “It goes west, and meets a tributary going north. If you want to lose anyone tracking you by scent, this is a good place to get in the water.”

He showed her on a map where the waterways went, let her and Vixen get it in their heads. He showed her where the roads were, and also the best ways to get to Rockhaven without using them.

“Go to Hawk—the sheriff—or his mate Ariana if you’re in trouble,” he told her, pointing out where they lived. “They’ll help. Anyone in town will, really, if you tell them who you are. They owe us.”

They shadowed the stream for a while, and then he cut across country to some rocky slopes. He stopped and said, “We walk from here.”

It wasn’t a bad hike—especially since Sanchez was carrying the pack. Between the water and the guns, it weighed a ton, but he didn’t even seem to notice. Finally, he pointed across a shallow ravine to a particular rock formation. “Memorize that,” he said. “There’s a trail over here, if you’re on foot. Your lapin can probably take most any route.”

She got the landmark into her head, and then they took the trail down the ravine and partway up the other side, beneath the rock formation. “There’s a cave here,” he said. “This is the back entrance.” He showed her a barely accessible crack in the rocks. “We’ll go in the front.”

The front entrance was also fairly well concealed, and required clambering around some boulders, but it was larger than the back. The scent of wolves was strong here, like it had been well-used by the pack.

Sanchez turned to her. “If anything happens, and you can’t get to Rockhaven, come here.” He pulled a flashlight out of a pocket on his jacket and led her inside.

The cave entrance widened out immediately into a passage, that turned to the left and then widened out again into a large area about twenty feet in diameter. A few slivers of light came in from openings near the top, and a narrowing cleft led out the other way, presumably to the back door.

At least a quarter of the floor space was taken up by a pile of supplies. Crates and boxes of plastic and metal, stacked on top of each other.

Madison looked around in delight. “It’s a burrow!”

Sanchez rolled his eyes. “It’s a supply cache.”

“In a burrow,” she stage-whispered. “I love burrows.”

“Fuck me.” But he was smiling. “There’s spare gear in here—clothes, blankets, even boots. Fuel to start a fire.”

He started unstacking and rearranging the supplies, and she realized it was because a lot of the boxes were too heavy for her to lift by herself, and he had to spread them out so she could get to everything if she needed to. It was just like him—he thought of everything.

As he worked, he identified everything for her. “Rations. Weapons. Ammo. A signal beacon to tell us where you are.” He unlatched the small metal attaché case that held the electronic transmitter, and showed her how to work it. “That lights up at the command center at the Ridge, and up at the Big House. Someone’s watching the comms all the time, 24/7/365. Anyone who sees the signal will know one of our people is here, and needs help.”

He gestured around. “This is also a defensible spot.”

She nodded. “Anybody sticks their nose in, I can bite it.”

“Yeah. Hopefully with a shotgun. Careful though,” he added. “If you discharge a weapon in a closed space like this, your hearing will be fucked up for a while. And watch out for ricochets. But pursuers will hesitate to come in because you can pick them off one by one while they do it.”

“I love it,” she said. Throwing her arms around him, she said, “Thank you. Just knowing this is here makes me feel more secure.”