PART 4: The Voice from the Speaker
PART 4: The Voice from the Speaker
Emergency dispatchers break the mountain silence.
"Don't do it, Daniel," I rasped, my voice dry and cracked from the dust, but steady with an absolute, unyielding resolve.
"Look at my wrist."
I twisted my arm outward into the pale sunlight, exposing the glowing device.
Beneath the smears of blood and dirt, the cracked screen of my smartwatch flashed brightly with an active 911 emergency call status.
From the tiny speaker embedded in the band, a clear, authoritative dispatcher's voice cut cleanly through the mountain wind:
"Emergency services are tracking your GPS coordinates.
Mountain Rescue and State Police units are two minutes out.
Stay on the line.
We have recorded the entire audio stream."
Vanessa froze mid-step on the incline, the heavy rock slipping from her nerveless fingers and clattering noisily into the rocky ravine below.
Her face turned the color of chalk as the reality of a federal recording set in.
"What... what did you do?" she choked out, terror finally piercing her cold exterior.
"They heard everything, Vanessa," I said loudly, shielding little Caleb with my broken arm.
"Every single word."
Sirens suddenly wailed in the distance, their sharp wails echoing harshly across the valley below.
Then, the heavy, thudding chop of rescue helicopter rotor blades beat against the thin air from beyond the ridge.
Panic completely overtook their fragile composure.
"We have to run! Daniel, get up here! We have to leave!" Vanessa screamed, turning frantically to scramble back up the steep dirt slope.
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But in her blind, animalistic terror, her high-booted foot found nothing solid except loose shale and sliding dirt.
The earth gave way entirely beneath her boots.
