Axel glanced her way and frowned. “You look exhausted.”
She was. “It doesn’t matter right now. Are we walking until night falls?”
He studied the landscape, then turned back to her. “I’m thinking we need to make our way to that outcropping of rocks.” He pointed to a spot in the near distance. “We should rest there, soak up a little shade. We haven’t been followed yet, which tells me that whoever wants you is regrouping. When night falls, we’ll set out again. If we walk then, we’ll have to endure the cold, but it will preserve water.”
Right now, Mystery couldn’t imagine being not sweltering but she knew from experience that once the sun set, the wind often picked up and the temperature plummeted. Then the dry chill would whip at her bones.
She nodded, and they walked to the designated spot in silence. Neither of them said a word about the kiss. Had he just been damn glad to be alive and willing to lock lips with anyone to celebrate that? Or did he feel something for her that he’d written off as either unprofessional or a distraction to his mission? The question gnawed at her brain.
Once they reached the outcropping, Axel gestured to the shade wedged between two of the boulders. “Set your stuff here for a minute and take a load off. Make sure nothing is crawling around before you do. I’m going to climb up here and see if we can spot anything that might resemble dinner. MREs are running low.”
That struck further disquiet inside her. She and Axel could survive maybe another twenty-four hours. Thirty-six if they really conserved. What if no one rescued them before then? Or would her abductor’s goons materialize again even sooner to finish what they’d started?
If she thought about the possibility of either dehydrating or bleeding to death, she’d only start panicking.
“Can I help?” she asked as he tugged his big body onto the rock and stood to his ridiculous height on top, surveying the area.
Suddenly, he froze, then squinted toward the bright, falling sun. He checked his compass, then seemed to do some mental math, dissecting a problem in his head.
“What is it? Do you see something?” Had they been saved?
“A few buildings. They look rickety, though. Maybe it was once a town.”
A bit of hope filled her. At the very least, maybe the structures would provide reliable shade. If she and Axel were lucky, maybe they would find water, food . . . something to sustain them, maybe more. “The desert is littered with ghost towns. My dad scouted a few for a movie about eight years ago, and I went with him. Some have been renovated for use as sets or for tourist adventures that show what mining in the old west must have been like.”
He whipped his gaze down to her. “You mean, some of these buildings could be habitable or have access to the outside world?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know which ghost town this might be, but we’ve at least got a shot.”
Axel jumped down with renewed vigor. “Then let’s go. It’s less than a half mile, just beyond that little rise in front of us.”
The smile he wore was infectious and showed off not only the cleft in his chin but the dimples in both cheeks. He wasn’t slick or polished or pretty, but when happiness lit up his face, he looked completely irresistible.
He ignored her stare and pressed on. “This could be good. We’ll approach cautiously in case your abductor is holed up here, but it looks deserted.”
“The whole ordeal might be over? That would make me so happy.” But I wish I could take you home as a souvenir. “Lead the way.”
As the big ball of the sun dipped toward the horizon and seared their faces, they hoisted their packs on their backs and hauled ass across the desert.
When they reached the outskirts of the little abandoned town, they found a big rock with a bronze plate just off the side of a dirt road. The town, Cerro Gordo, had once been the county’s wealthiest producer of minerals like silver, lead, and zinc. They’d sent water and other supplies by mule train, tram, or boat across the Owens Lake to build the pueblo of Los Angeles.
“Wow,” she murmured. “I’d heard that L.A. owed its roots to some of these old mining towns.”
Despite being hungry, sore, tired, and wrung out, Mystery wanted to see more of the place. If she could remake this nightmare into an adventure, even temporarily, maybe that would help her to cope with all the other stuff she couldn’t deal with yet.
Cautiously, they approached, Axel insisting she stay behind him just in case they encountered anyone out to kill them. With weapon drawn, he walked almost soundlessly, keeping her close behind.
Part of the town appeared at the base of a hill, while a few buildings perched on top. One of the first buildings they approached was a two-story structure made entirely out of wood. A wide porch stretched across the front, leading to a door flanked by two murky windows. A green and white sign proclaimed it the AMERICAN HOTEL. A balcony above boasted three windows and a railing no one should lean on. But overall, the building was in one piece and gave Mystery hope.
They tried the front door and found it locked. But one of the glass panes above the knob had been broken, leaving a gaping hole Axel stuck his hand through. With a turn of his wrist, he reached the lock and turned it.
They ducked inside the building to find it utterly deserted by anything except dust. People had been here, probably within the last few months. Dark hardwood floors, original to the structure, led to a long wooden check-in desk. Someone had painted the ceiling green, but left the exposed beams a cedar color. On one side of the room sat a massive woodstove. What might have once been an ornate copper wall behind it now looked green. Behind the counter, shelves of old-timey, empty bottles stood in a haphazard arrangement.
Around the corner, the theme continued as the room segued into a large bar/saloon area with an adjoining restaurant. The bar had been ravaged by time, then restored to something rustic yet polished. Above it hung a painting of a blonde in a white dress holding something that looked like an apple. A few bottles of modern beer sat on the corner, empty. Shot glasses lay upside down on a nearby tray, gathering dust.
“Do you think anyone is here?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “Maybe someone fixed this up and tried to make a go at drawing in tourists, then gave up recently.”
“Or they closed up for the winter. It snows around here sometimes.”
He nodded. “Let’s keep looking quickly. We’re losing light.”
A glance out one of the windows proved him right. They had maybe twenty minutes before everything went black.
“Any chance your phone works here? That someone installed a cell tower or something nearby?” she asked.
He pulled it from his pack and shook his head. “Nothing. Sorry.”
His reply disappointed her—mostly. Some small part of her rejoiced at the idea they’d get to stay together and alone just a bit longer. Which she knew was stupid.
She shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”
The bar led back to a restaurant. Despite the old cast-iron stove and the cabinets that looked as if they’d been built in the late nineteenth century, the place had a modern refrigerator, a microwave, and a ceiling fan with lights. Pots and pans hung from hooks in the ceiling.
Mystery flipped on a switch beside the doorway, hoping . . . But nothing. The refrigerator wasn’t humming, either. Damn.
Axel checked behind a little curtain set back in one wall. “Hey, I found some canned food here—beans, soup, veggies.”
At least they wouldn’t starve. She opened the refrigerator. A gust of hot air rushed her face, and the smell of plastic almost made her choke. Inside, sat a case of unopened bottled water.