Navy SEAL Security
Page 18
He wove his fingers through tangled hair, matted with a sticky substance—must be more blood. His fingertips traced around a huge knot on the back of his head. The blood had come from another cut. There was no broken skin across the solid lump.
Stretching out one arm and then the other, he wiggled his fingers. Everything seemed to be in working—if painful—order. He hoisted to his haunches. His bones ached but they moved and supported his body.
A bird screeched overhead and he twisted around, catching a glimpse of the ledge above him. He could climb to the precipice, or he could scramble down the mountainside to the little village.
What kind of reception awaited him there?
He cleared his throat and shaded his eyes against the rising sun, a yellow egg yolk spreading in the morning sky. He crawled to the edge of his own private ledge, the ledge that probably saved his life.
Leaning forward, he spotted a rough trail meandering down the side of the mountain. If he could clamber down the boulders that tumbled toward that pathway, he could follow it into the village.
Surely, someone would offer help—food, some simple first aid for his injuries. Surely, someone could tell him where he was.
Maybe someone could even tell him who he was.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8836-6
NAVY SEAL SECURITY
Copyright © 2011 by Carol Ericson
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*Brothers in Arms