Chapter 111
- The canyon walls rose up on either side of us, jagged teeth of stone that scraped at the pale, empty sky.
- The air was dead. No wind, no birds, just the crunch of our boots on the gravel and the faint, high-altitude hum of the drone.
- “I hate this,” Gary muttered, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that was too loud in the stillness. “It’s too damn quiet. Gives me the creeps.”