Deep in the Grevelton Hills, Treen crawled out of her tent then stretched in front of a magnificent sunrise. She walked over to the wooded ridge and stared down at the river that twisted its way through the pines, past the golden aspens.
It had been a devastating night back in Mallyview with the death of Mr. Wellbay, then a long ride to the Grevelton Hills — a trip that included a stop at Dales for several cans of spray paint. Although the ride had started smoothly, it ended bumpy, after the Humvee had bounced across an hours worth of rough terrain.
Treen sat on a boulder and yawned; the coffee maker atop the portable generator gurgled, sending vanilla fumes into the slight draft. The familiar aroma reminded her of the Smile Center and how much she missed her workplace.
However, none of that mattered without her family. As she scanned the endless peaks that towered over the forest, she just knew she’d find her parents alive — even though for the moment, she still didn’t know the lab’s location. At least she’d narrowed it down to the Grevelton Hills...
Treen noticed movement inside the larger tent, then lined three more Styrofoam cups atop the Humvee’s hood. One by one, her three disheveled friends crawled from inside the vinyl shelter, eyes half open, hair sticking in every direction — except Sheridon, who rubbed his low buzz. The sleepyheads turned in unison, then lumbered towards the pines.
“Hey, I made coffee. Where are you guys going?”
Ariel and Sheridon kept moving. Russell stopped his stagger and slowly turned to face her. It took a few seconds to find her since the pine green corduroy she wore blended perfectly with the background.
“I don’t know what a girl does first thing in the morning, but a guys gotta take a — ”
“Never mind Russell! Should’ve known better,” she muttered.
Once the men had returned from their relief mission, they sat around the Humvee, alert enough to drink coffee and eat cinnamon pastries. However, they’d hardly said a word.
“Are guys always this quiet in the morning?” asked Treen, sipping her coffee.
“Depends,” said Ariel, hat tipped over his eyes. “On what?”
“Who you’re lyin’ next to when you wake up,” said Sheridon.” Treen laughed, but also noticed their sluggish behavior. To help enliven them, she suggested they hike down to a stream she’d found and splash their faces with the cool water. When no one moved, she pulled them up one by one. “That way,” she said pointing, pushing each of them downhill.
The men returned a half hour later, fresh and ready to go. They’d be searching for the lab without a map and knew they’d be hiking all day.
“Wow, check out that gun,” said Russell stepping towards Ariel while the others loaded their backpacks.
“This is no ordinary gun,” said Ariel, displaying the bronze colored piece. “It’s a flare pistol that’ll come in handy if we get separated.”
Another useful item would be the spray paint; when the smoke bomb went off at the factory, Treen realized that the droids could be blinded as easily as a human. If the paint were sprayed in their video camera eyes, the droids would collide with each other, run into trees, or maybe even step off a cliff. Either way, it would make for an easier escape.
With everyone packed up and ready to hike, Sheridon called for a huddle. He warned them about wild animals, traps, and the Grevelton City cast offs, who’d moved to the hills for a variety of different reasons.
Treen listened carefully but nothing Sheridon said scared her or put a dent in her optimism. “No matter what’s out there, we’re going to save my family,” she said, spreading her intensity around the circle.
“That’s right, and we’re gonna get Tsara too,” said Russell. He glared at Sheridon, who nodded in agreement.