Forsaken Canyon. Margaret Daley
brought. Lifting weights might have been a good idea, and something she would consider when she got back. After refilling her canteen with water, she left all but one jug on the backseat so her backpack wouldn’t be so heavy.
She found the trailhead and started along the narrow path that led through the pass into a broad expanse of canyons, cliffs and mesas. The sun intensified, beating down on her. Sweat broke out on her forehead after only fifteen minutes. She paused and took another drink of water.
An hour and a half later, enthralled with the vista, Kit collapsed on a medium-size boulder that had slid down the side of a cliff. She shucked off her backpack and dropped it to the ground next to the rock. She would head back to the car after she rested a while. Using the white sleeve of her shirt, she wiped the sweat from her face, then her neck.
When she reached for her bag to get a cloth to use, she froze. Slithering from the underside of the boulder was a rattlesnake, followed by several more.
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