6
PARADISE ISLAND
BERMUDA TRIANGLE
EARLY EVENING
Mariah broke free of the clinging underbrush, and pushed her way out of the thick forest. Startled birds squawked and rocketed through the air in a flurry of brown and white feathers. She shielded her face as several shot by too close for comfort, and heard MacAllister laugh.
“Damned k******e seagulls,” she grumbled, and stepped cautiously into an open clearing.
The rounded mountaintop looked like a cratered lunar surface. Weathered upthrust stone, stained white with fresh bird droppings, ringed dozens of large, scattered indentations. She was grateful that the stiff breeze was blowing downwind, and carefully watched her footing as Mac preceded her to the summit.
“Here’s where your birds are getting their water, Mac,” she commented, n
