St. Martin's Griffin
RIP CANTRELL WAS HOLDING THE STADIA ROD, TRYING TO blink away the sweat trickling into his eyes, when a bright flash of light caught his eye. The light was to his left, near the base of an escarpment almost a mile away.
Careful not to disturb the stadia rod, he turned his head to get a better view.
"Hold that thing still for a few more seconds, Rip."
The shout echoed off the rock formations and tumbled around in the clear desert air, rupturing the profound silence. Occasionally one could hear the deep rumble of a jet running high, but normally the only sound