Chapter 46 Electronic Magic
He entered right here.
I’ll flank him this way.
Canyon bolted into the forest past where the guy in coveralls had disappeared, listening and scenting intently. He caught the scent and followed it, ready for anything.
“Oh shi—,” Timber said from his right, the word being pointedly cut off.
What?
There was no response. Canyon course-corrected, heading for Timber’s voice.
What happened?
Still no response.
“Timber!”
With no warning, the ground spun under Canyon’s feet. Forest fell away from all sides and was replaced with more forest. Timber’s voice blared almost right next to him.
“…hear me?”
Canyon went around a bush, found his brother there, and punched him in the arm.
I can hear you, where’d you go?
I’m right here? Timber patted himself down. Aren’t I?
We’re in the magic forest again.
Shit.
You’re dry though.
Canyon was dry, too. He scraped at his uniform. There was some white film or powder left but it came off easily.
I lost that guy’s scent.
He’s long gone—warning Abigail White I bet.
Now we’ve got to get out again.
Right over here—
They walked around the bush back to where they’d started, Canyon pointing that he was going right and Timber should go left. They found the burnt popcorn smell. Canyon covered his face with both hands and pushed through the membrane, eyes squinched shut.
POP.
They were out.
“Gross.”
Timber ran for the truck. He grabbed a bottle of water and dumped it on his head. Canyon shook at high speed and ghost jizz flew every which way.
Timber lifted his head, growling. “I got his scent again. I’m gonna find that fucker.”
Empty water bottle in hand, goo dripping from him, he walked down the road sideways, facing the forest. Canyon dumped a bottle of water over his own head, grabbed some towels and lined his truck seats with them.
He grabbed Predator, closed up the back, and climbed into his truck.
He started it, turned it around, then drove to his brother, staying just behind him.
Timber walked closer to the forest, then across the road, then closer to the forest again, seeming like he’d lost the scent. Canyon stopped in the middle of the empty road, deciding to re-read the rest of Seb’s notes.
‘I found a dirt road that’s not on any map. It leads to the back side of the bluff. The way is blocked, steep, and full of cameras. I’ll come back with Canyon and Timber.’
Canyon checked the date. Seb had been reassigned to the demon babies the next day.
He called his brother. Got a trail or a scent?
Nothing.
Let’s go check out this dirt road Seb found.
Timber climbed in the truck and Canyon took off, following Seb’s directions. The road itself was impossible to see from the truck, and they drove past it several times, but found it after getting out and looking for it on foot. They drove in slowly.
“We’re being watched,” Timber said. “I can feel it.”
Cameras.
“Yeah.”
They drove on, until the road ended at a tangled mess of fallen trees and brush.
“What a convenient place for a deadfall,” Timber said.
Canyon reversed back down the road, found a partially hidden grove to hide his truck in, and parked it near the foot of a steep embankment.
They got out. Canyon went straight to the back and unlocked his electronics cabinet, while Timber meandered down the road, whistling like a bird.
Canyon found what he wanted, locked the truck up tight, and joined his brother, surreptitiously scanning the area for hidden cameras with his equipment.
They examined the deadfall, but not too seriously, then they strolled back to Canyon’s truck, talking in ruhi.
Cameras everywhere, Canyon said.
That deadfall is fake, too. There’s a metal gate underneath it.
What say we make a little magic of our own?
Hell yeah. You have a plan?
You know I do.
They reached the truck and got in like they were going to leave, but instead Canyon spent a few minutes programming Predator from the driver’s seat.
Get the trike out of the back, he told Timber. Keep it in its case so the cameras can’t see it. I’m almost done.
On it.
Timber did as Canyon had asked, while Canyon finished up.
He got out, grabbed a couple more things from the back, then motioned Timber into a private spot in the underbrush.
Timber took the ‘trike’ out of its case.
It was a robot arm mounted on a six-wheeled, all-terrain chassis, with electronic eyes in front and a dock for Predator in back.
The whole thing was about the size of a small garbage can, painted green and black.
Put it down. Now turn around slowly. 360 degrees.
Timber turned, and Canyon filmed him with Predator.
Now do me, he said, handing Predator over.
Timber filmed him and handed Predator over.
Here comes the magic.
First, Canyon set up his homemade electromagnetic pulse generator and blew the circuitry of all the hidden cameras close to them, then he docked Predator into the trike.
Predator beeped once, the trike beeped twice, Predator beeped once more, and then the little thing took off, wheeling over the dirt and around trees.
You don’t see much, but any cameras will see an image of the two of us moving stealthily that way through the forest.
“While we follow my nose,” Timber said.
He climbed straight up the embankment. Canyon packed his equipment into a rucksack, hoisted it onto his back, and followed his brother.