In the rearview mirror, she saw a car pull out onto Dall Road from the PZ turnout. Another car pulled out, and another and another. Heading both ways.

She stepped on the gas. In the resort parking lot, her little car would be just one of many. She’d be one of many. They wouldn’t find her.

Anger was a sullen burn in her chest. The bastardi had trapped Kit and Aric.

And they’d killed Iron Boy.

In the Patriot Zealot compound, Captain Grigor Nabera walked outside. His lieutenants stood waiting for him in a rigidly straight line. “Report.”

“Sir.” Hair freshly buzz cut, Luka stood straight—and Nabera almost smiled, knowing the fool’s shoulders ached from the lashing he’d received yesterday for questioning the Prophet’s scriptures. “The drone pieces were recovered. The device isn’t military or law enforcement. It’s one that can be bought from any store.”

Nabera gave a nod and saw him relax. “Obadiah, what about the perimeter?”

The obedient soldier of the Prophet had a straggly yellow-brown beard, short brown hair, built heavy, like a Texas bison, and he was just as slow moving. “The perimeter has been searched with no tracks found.”

“Good. And farther out?”

Tall, skinny Conrad had a reddish beard that reached his belt buckle. “Sir, my team went up Dall Road. Three dirt roads had fresh tracks, so we checked ’em. The last…it had a shithole of an empty cabin. Somebody pushed through the undergrowth to a spot that overlooks us. They couldn’t’ve seen more ’n a corner of the compound though.”

“Except the person was using a drone,” Reverend Parrish said as he joined them. The Prophet seemed tired with lines around his mouth and deep-set eyes.

Nabera gave him a worried look. If their leader faltered, so would they all. Their plans to shake up the country, bring back the traditional ways were just beginning to come together.

With a reassuring smile, Parrish set a hand on Nabera’s shoulder, warming him to his soul. “In this godless world, technology like drones will be an increasing problem to the faithful.”

“We’ll catch the bastard.” Nabera’s lip curled up. “He’ll end up in as many pieces as his hellish spyware.”

His lieutenants all nodded quickly.

Conrad stirred.

“Speak,” Nabera ordered.

“When we got onto Dall Road, we saw a truck almost at Rescue. A SUV comin’ down the mountain, and a little car going up to the resort. Some of our faithful went after them and reported back.” He held up the reports.

Nabera took the papers and glanced at them. Both vehicles were owned by Rescue residents, ones with families. Not the type to spy on them with a drone.

Conrad waited for Nabera’s nod and continued, “At the deserted cabin, the tire prints were small—and the vehicle must’ve been low. It scraped bottom a time or two.”