“Go where? The trucks can’t be here yet.”

“I want to see if we can find a vantage point that shows us where they leave the trailers.”

Keeping below the level of the summit, they made their way through the trees on the south face to where they had a view of a short segment of the mountain road. They crouched and waited. Soon the roar of tractor engines fighting the upgrade echoed through the air, but no trucks rolled into sight. And then the engine noise faded to silence.

“What the hell?” Donny said. “Where’d they go?”

Hari was wondering the same thing. “Maybe they turned their engines off?”

“Truckers don’t turn off their engines until they’re done for the day—less stress on the diesel to leave it running.”

“And you know this how?”

“I just know it.”

She shook her head sadly. “But you don’t know Deputy Dog.”

“And you don’t know lolz and slime. But whatever, I’m telling you these guys don’t turn off their engines.” He rose. “I’m going down there.”

Hari pulled him back. “You’re doing no such thing. The drivers came back down the hill yesterday, they’ll go back down today. And when they do, we’ll be close behind. Today we get some answers.”

Half an hour later the rumble of the engines returned—not abruptly, but gradually, swelling to a roar.

“Now!” Hari said. “Back to the car.”

They hurried to the Tahoe. Its four-wheel drive pulled them up the grade and back onto the gravel.

“Can that tablet of yours show us how close we are to the local signal?”

“Sure. I can compare our GPS coords to the signal’s.”

“Do it, then. I’m betting the trucks and signal are connected.”

She took it slow from there, virtually coasting down the incline. The trucks had departed but the tire marks on the pavement left no doubt where they’d turned on and off the mountain road.

“Same place as yesterday!” Donny said, hammering the dashboard with a fist. “Same dead end!”

“We’re missing something,” Hari said, cringing at the obviousness of the statement. “How close are we to the signal?”

Donny checked his tablet. “Holy crap. We’re almost on top of it.”

Pretty much what she’d expected. “I’m going in.”

No walking this time. She turned the Tahoe into the gap in the trees and crept ahead along the well-worn ruts. But instead of running into the wall of solid rock they’d faced yesterday, they found a wide opening through the granite.

“Okay,” Donny said. “This is spooky. How does this happen? And by the way, this spot matches exactly with the signal coords.”

Of course it did. Hari made no comment as she kept the Tahoe rolling forward.

Donny’s voice jumped an octave. “We’re going in?”

“If the trucks can do it, so can we. We go in, take a quick look, then haul our butts back out.”

She needed to know what was in there. She couldn’t leave until she did.

Driving through the divide was like threading a narrow canyon—a dark canyon, so dark she had to turn on the Tahoe’s headlights.