They were well on their way, having hiked half the distance allocated when June dropped to the ground.  “Look!”

Nigel dropped to his haunches to better observe what she was pointing at.  “Foot prints.”

“Yeah, not just any footprint.  See that missing chunk out of the side of the heal?”


“It’s Roland’s.  I’ve been after him to change out his boots for weeks.  They’re old.  He says worn in. But there’s a chunk missing, shaped like a half triangle.  That’s his boot print.”

“We’re definitely on the right track then.  This is good.”  Nigel leaned back rose and pulled his hand held from his jacket pocket informing his men about their find suggesting they all converge in the area surrounding their present location but maintain a safe distance, so they wouldn’t inadvertently spook the captors.  The plan was to meet up at the far end of the canyon like groove. 

The area was well forested but at this juncture, dropped straight down for hundreds of feet from a razor-sharp edge.  It was a chance find and a valuable one as it isolated the area required to search.

The map showed plenty of land to cover with ridges highs and lows as well as deep drop off points in varying degrees from hazardous dangerous especially for adventurers that weren’t savvy and hard core.  This was one of those instances.  The trail, or whatever there was left of it, was narrow enough it required care determination and fortitude.

Nigel was surprised that as they continued they didn’t find any other tracks, Roland’s or any belonging to his friend or the man they’d spotted earlier.  It seemed strange that one track should show up at this very opportune moment. He might have to modify his instructions.

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