Chapter 42
When Jake arrived at the fire trail leading to White Cliffs, he stopped his truck and stepped out. As he made his way through the dense brush, ravens gathered in nearby trees. He looked up at them, “I’m here. On foot. See? C’mon lead me. Please.”
This is completely insane. Those birds can’t do anything. But the ravens lifted from their perches and cawed and rocked at him. They flew a few yards west, settled into low branches and called out to him again.
I’ll bite. Lead on.
The ravens flew low and slow, stopping, allowing Jake to catch up. He tromped through the woods, following the ravens. After about twenty-five minutes Jake came across a partial clearing, and there, concealed under a heavy copse of pine was a small, rickety cabin. No way would I have found this driving an
