RUNAWAY TWINS (Runaway Twins series #1) by Pete Palamountain Page A

that had occurred. And even if the twins had made it inside, what could they have done? They would have been too late; and they would have been too small and too ineffective to have accomplished anything. But where were the guards?
    He was puzzled. He knew he needed to get back to the SUV and look for clues on the logging road. Maybe the tracks there would be more readable, and he could then give a report to the Prophet that was meaningful.
    The main search party had not yet left Bitterroot Camp. The Prophet wanted to wait for the rest of the security staff and for the men from Missoula to arrive so there would be enough hunters to thoroughly scour the upper mountain trails. He was concerned that if the net wasn’t spread wide enough, the twins might somehow slip through the mesh. He did, however, send Chuky on ahead with instructions to pick up any signs or tracks and to be prepared to direct the main party. The Prophet also took Elder Mobly’s advice and sent people to watch the lower trails and the road that led to the highway in case the girls had doubled back.
    Three men from the security staff in Sheba had flown to Missoula during the night and had driven to Bitterroot Camp, arriving before dawn. As directed, they had come prepared for an expedition into the high country; and after stowing their gear, they were now stretched out on the couches in the great room, trying to catch up on lost sleep.
    The four Missoula men arrived at nine in the morning. They were not members of the Sheba Temple. Their loyalty was to their own needs and to their own welfare. And one of their needs was money, and lots of it, which the Prophet provided in abundance. All of the men had spent time in the Montana State Prison system in either max or close custody, and all were ready to do whatever their employer required.
    The Prophet gathered his searchers on the back deck: the two remaining guards from Bitterroot Camp, the four Missoula men, and the three guards from Sheba Hill—nine men, eleven including himself and Chuky who was still up on the logging road. Mobly and the other senior elders, as well as the women and the peripheral members were busy guarding the lower trails.
    “There’ll be eleven of us when we meet Chuky,” the Prophet said, “thirteen when we find Karl and Brian. That should be enough—more than enough. The first one to spot the twins gets a two-thousand-dollar bonus.”
    One of the newly-arrived temple guards said, “Does that go for all of us?”
    “Yes, all of you, so keep a sharp eye.”
    By mid-morning the three pre-teens had progressed to a position at least four miles beyond the cave where they had spent a cozy, if somewhat cramped night. They had by now worked out all the kinks in their muscles and joints, and the girls were making sounds of hunger and thirst.
    “You won’t be thirsty much longer,” said Justin.
    “Are we going to build another fire? Melt snow?” Rachel asked.
    “Not necessary, listen.” In the distance they could hear a faint rumble, a continuous low growl.
    “Is that a bear?” Janie asked in a weak voice.
    “No, hopefully the bears are still napping—though once in a while one will wake up and go for a stroll. We’ll have to watch out for him. And anyway, when bears roar they stop for air. This sound goes on and on. What we hear is a river or a stream. Listen.” The growl in the distance was constant, unchanging. “A small or medium-sized stream, I think.”
    They hiked for another fifteen minutes and then broke through the trees onto a smooth, gently sloping bank that led down to a crystal-clear stream about forty feet across.
    “Can we drink?” said Janie.
    “You bet,” said Justin. “People in cities pay good money for water this pure.”
    They drank their fill, leaning over the bank in an easily accessed spot near a small pool. When they were finished, Justin got to his feet and walked to the pool. “Look,” he said, “fish—Rainbow Trout.” The girls joined