Jaron had to give Victoria credit. At this point, she had the better plan. They’d left the darkest part of the thicket about fifteen minutes before. The ground was rocky, and the cooler breeze of the ocean stirred the fronds of the tall palm trees. Coastal communities dotted the Louisiana shoreline. However, he hadn’t seen any indication they were nearing a populated area. Then the tree line parted. In the distance, the roar of surf crashed against the shore. Under the cover of darkness, he hadn’t realized how close they were to the beach. “Jaron, there’s no one around.” Shells bit into the bottom of his sore feet. High tide had receded into the ocean, leaving piles of kelp and splinters of woods. No lights were visible up or down the bay’s shoreline. “We need to keep moving. We’ll stay in the shelter of the trees.” Maxwell would have his helicopter searching up and down the coastal inlets. While they had the night, they’d be safe. An hour from now, predawn glow would reflect off the water and they’d be open targets.
