Shit! That storm was definitely coming this way. I exhaled the fury raging inside me. I needed to calm down and get to work.
Lightning forked across the sky, and thunder boomed again less than five seconds later. Damn. The storm was less than a mile away. And it was moving fast.
I needed to get as many of these fossils photographed as I could before the downpour repositioned these bones.
Raising the camera, I snapped photo after photo, shifting around the perimeter of the pit, working methodically despite the rising wind and the sizzle in the air. Dodging around the snake carcass, I avoided the blood splatter. I still couldn't believe he'd done that. Though at least I didn't have to worry about getting bitten.
I kept clicking, documenting everything. Each rib arc, each vertebra, each exposed claw. Because if the storm hit hard enough, these photos might be the only proof of what this pit had looked like when I'd found it.
Doug climbed back into the pit and stepped between two femurs longer than my body, dropping his kit bag onto the floor as if he already owned my discovery.
A fat raindrop splattered across a backbone the size of my fist. Then another. "Shit. That storm's moving fast."
Doug's eyes flicked from the bones to the sky, then to me. "Worried about getting your hair wet?"
"No." I glared at him. "I'm worried about these fossils. We need to cover them, Doug."
"They've been here for thousands of years, sweetheart. They're not going to wash away."
Sweetheart! I clenched my jaw. What an asshole.
I didn't mind working in the rain. I actually preferred it over the blistering heat. But what worried me more than anything was the integrity of this pit. It was my fault that the pit was exposed in the first place. But after Doug's idiotic gunfire had blown gaping holes straight through the wall that faced the ravine, the whole thing was even more unstable.
I tilted my head to the sky. Menacing clouds churned above me in greenish-gray swirls that folded in on themselves, getting ready to explode.
One hard burst of torrential rain, and we could be in real trouble.
Chapter 7
Mitch
* * *
Ever since I’d heard the gunshots earlier, I'd been trying to work out where the hell they’d come from. Out here, sound carried for miles, bouncing off rock-hard soil and jagged red rocks like a goddamn ping pong ball. With that storm opening its throat on the horizon, I had no chance of pinning down the location.
Unless the bastard kept firing.
I eased Zeus to a stop at a patch of grass so he could grab a feed, then raised my binoculars again. The land stretched endlessly in every direction. No buildings. No roads. No fences. Just scorched earth, wiry trees, and a mean-looking stormfront swelling fast across the sky.
Forked lightning lit up the ridge, and a flash pinged off something to my right. I adjusted the binoculars, scanning the arid land.
What the hell?
An off-road bus was parked near a dry creek bed.
My gut tightened.
Someone was camping on Koolaroo, and I'd bet my Harley they didn't get permission.
I grabbed the satellite phone from my saddlebag, pulled out the antenna, and waited for a signal. "Hey, Cassidy, you there? Over."
While I waited for her to answer, I scanned the bus for markings. Nothing but rust and red dirt. I pulled off my cowboy hat and ran my hand through my sweat-soaked hair. Damn, it's hot out here.
Her voice crackled through. "Hey, Mitch, you're alive!"
I chuckled. "Hey, sis. I'm out on the northern ridge, and I've got an off-road bus out here. Anyone got a permit to be on our land?"
Lightning split the sky overhead, and static hissed through the line.