The sound reached the prisoners before the helicopters themselves did.
For the men and women who had spent months beneath the trees of the Forest of No Return, the sky had always meant the same things. Rain. Wind. Birds. Storms rolling across distant mountains.
The sky was not supposed to roar.
The deep rhythmic thunder rolled over the canopy and echoed between the hills, growing louder with every passing second until even the wolves behind them momentarily stopped their howling.
Several prisoners froze in place.
One woman dropped to her knees and covered her head with her hands.
Another began muttering prayers beneath her breath.
The young boy near the stretcher stared upward with wide eyes as though expecting the heavens themselves to split open.
Rolf almost felt bad for them.
Almost.
Because he knew exactly what was coming.
The radio crackled in Tomas's ear.
"Rescue One approaching Lantern. Three minutes out."
Tomas looked toward the trees ahead.
"Understood."
