by Abigail Roux
Zane shrugged. “I can see you in one of those brown hats,” he said, lips twisting against a laugh.
Ty snorted and nodded as he tilted his head to look up at the ceiling. The fire hissed and popped, and the light danced on the logs overhead.
There were plenty of reasons Ty didn’t do this more often. One was the fact that the cell reception was shitty, and Burns usually had him at the ready. It was one of the first times that Ty had thought that with a hint of bitterness.
Zane studied him with a small frown that emphasized the furrows between his brows. After a long moment, he asked, “So why not visit more?”
Ty didn’t move, blinking up at the ceiling as he tried to think of a way to answer. The truth was, most of his official vacation time was taken up by side jobs that weren’t supposed to go in any records. But he couldn’t tell Zane that even if he wanted to. Yet.
“Time, I guess,” he finally answered, hoping it would satisfy. He could still feel Zane’s eyes on him, but the other man didn’t say anything else. Ty glanced over at him self-consciously. Zane was scrutinizing him, and he looked like he was considering what to say. Ty shook his head slightly and sighed, looking back up at the ceiling. It wasn’t home that was the problem. He supposed he could let Zane believe that it was, though. It would buy him some time until he figured out what to do about Burns’ black ops and whether Zane needed to know about them.
“Tell me something,” Zane asked softly, gaining Ty’s attention. “Something about growing up in the mountains.”
“What, like… more story time?” Ty asked uncomfortably.
Zane shrugged one shoulder. “Some good thing you remember.”
Ty watched him in the flickering firelight, frowning heavily and trying to think. “Good thing about growing up in the mountains,” he murmured. He shrugged, at a loss. “It wasn’t really all that different from growing up anywhere else, I guess. Every summer we’d come up here and Dad would teach us everything he knew. From the day school was out until football started up, we were running around outdoors.”
“All those trophies,” Zane said quietly. “You played lots of sports, looked like.”
“I was decent,” Ty acknowledged. “I liked them all, but football was my game.”
“You’re not exactly lineman size,” Zane commented. “Wide receiver? Defensive back?” He smiled and bumped against him gently. “Quarterback?”
Ty glanced sideways at him and smiled. “You’ll make jokes if I tell you now,” he predicted.
Both Zane’s brows raised. “Not near what you would if I told you what I did for extracurriculars in high school.”
“True,” Ty agreed shamelessly. “I was a tight end,” he told Zane with another look sideways at him and a smirk. “Sometimes wide receiver if we were killing the other team.”
“Big guy, fast runner,” Zane said with a nod.
Ty nodded, waiting for Zane’s love of bad puns to seize on the tight end thing and run with it. “What about you?” he asked to curtail the urge in his partner.
Zane snorted and rubbed a hand over his face. When he dropped it, his cheeks were surprisingly flushed. “Uh. Well, it was Texas, you know.”
“Right,” Ty said slowly. “So… you grew up roping longhorns and riding horses?” he joked.
“Yes,” Zane said immediately, relaxing visibly. “On Granddaddy’s ranch.”
Ty narrowed his eyes at his partner. Zane had seized on that answer far too quickly and with too much relief, and he was obviously embarrassed about the subject. “You know, if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m not that big on talking anyway,” Ty offered softly. “I won’t mind.”
Zane sighed. “Nah. It’s just silly.” He winced. “I was on the square-dancing team.”
Ty pressed his lips tightly together and closed his eyes, but he just couldn’t help himself. He covered his mouth and tried to cover the laugh, shaking his head.
He heard Zane’s soft laugh. “I told you,” Zane said with a gentle elbow to Ty’s ribs. “But I’ll have you know we were in the state championship my junior year.”
Ty snorted and laughed out loud, unable to contain it. “Oh God,” he said as he covered his eyes. When he moved his hand, he saw Zane looking back at him, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, but his dark brown eyes were shining in the firelight. “Next time just lie to me,” Ty requested as he giggled.
Zane grinned and shook his head as he hefted himself up. “You love the ammunition. Though Lord knows why I keep feeding it to you. Glutton for punishment, I guess,” he mumbled as he headed for the last bunk.
“I guess,” Ty echoed with a soft smile.
Chapter 8
“YOU boys make it through that storm okay?” the ranger asked as he tipped his hat.
“We’re here,” Earl confirmed.
“So you are,” the ranger answered. Zane noticed that Ty wasn’t paying too much attention as he dug through his bag; he seemed content to let Earl handle the conversation. It struck Zane as odd that Ty didn’t want to be in control of the situation like he almost always did, but maybe he was deferring to Earl as older and wiser.
Whatever the reason, Zane didn’t think he’d ever seen Ty this relaxed. It was an attractive attitude on him, and Zane found himself hoping Ty would stay this way once they returned home. His T-shirt this morning was a black one that claimed “Only YOU can prevent forest fires!” and below that, in smaller letters, it added “Which is good because I’ve got shit to do.”
Zane sat smiling at his partner as he mused over just how well that fit Ty.
“We found some ATV tracks up aways,” Earl was saying, and the ranger frowned.
“Recent?” the man asked.
Earl shook his head. “No. Back before the last storms couple weeks back, we think.”
The ranger nodded slowly. “We’ve had other reports the last few months.”
“And the car,” Zane added.
“Expired inspection,” Ty provided as he stopped at Earl’s side. “At the trailhead. Been there a while.”
Earl supplied him with the specific location, actually giving the ranger the GPS coordinates. Zane was surprised. He’d not seen Earl with any sort of locator or battery-operated compass.
“We’ll check it out,” the ranger said as he took out a small notepad and started scribbling in it.
Zane leaned forward, his hands braced on the bench. “How far are we from the trailhead?”
“’Bout fifteen miles, as the crow flies,” the ranger said.
“Means we’ve probably walked fifty,” Deuce muttered. His legs were extended out in front of him in a mirror of Zane’s.
“We’re heading over to the nearest pass,” Earl told the ranger.
“We’ve had some reports of missing hikers. Searchers ain’t found no sign; it’s too wet, and the cold doesn’t help,” the ranger told him, trying to impress upon them the danger. Earl nodded again.
“Missing hikers?” Zane asked Deuce.
“Yeah, happens sometimes. Usually kids running off and being stupid,” Deuce said wryly. “But sometimes a through-hiker has an accident.”
“Someone like John,” Zane said.
Deuce nodded. “More often rookies, though. Or day hikers. People like John got enough experience to know the dangers and how to avoid them.”
“Like snakes,” Zane muttered, looking back over at where the ranger, Earl, and Ty were still talking.
“Don’t worry, Zane,” Deuce said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Like Grandpa said, it’s too cold for snakes right now.”
Zane resisted the urge to growl and instead stood up and stretched.
“We’re going to refill our water and head out,” Ty said as he walked over.
“Any more storms coming?” Zane asked.
“Ranger says no. It’s supposed to be clear for the next few days.”
Zane must have growled that time, because Ty gave him an amused look. “Man up, Garrett.”
“
Yeah. Sure,” Zane muttered.
“Y’all be careful,” the ranger said again, obviously not happy that they were planning to continue on. “The storm knocked out some lines and comm towers we got up there. Got no reception at all in some places. Other places it’s pretty sketchy.”
Ty pulled up short and turned to look at his father, raising his eyebrows in question. Earl pursed his lips, looking from Ty to the ranger again. “How’s the shape of the trail?” he asked.
“It’s intact, to our knowledge. Don’t know what that storm did last night. There’s some flooding around, swollen rivers and mudslides.”
“Maybe we’ll find buried treasure in one of them,” Ty muttered under his breath. Earl looked around at them, his gaze settling on Zane doubtfully. His eyes flickered to Ty again. Ty shrugged. “I think we’re good to go,” he offered carelessly. “We’re not climbing or anything,” he pointed out.
Earl nodded. “Thanks for the updates,” he said to the ranger, shaking the man’s hand.
As they turned to go, the ranger called out to them. “Keep an eye out for snakes,” he advised. “We don’t know why, but they’re still out and they’re not happy. We think something’s driving ’em down the mountain lately. Been lots of rattlers around.”
Earl turned and smiled slightly, nodding his thanks before he walked out.
Ty made a disbelieving sound, shaking his head. “Snakes,” he said to Zane derisively as he passed by, snickering as he stepped through the door.
Zane just stared at him for a moment before wiping his hand over his face and following him across the dirt clearing.
He stood at the water spigot where Ty was refilling the canteens for a few minutes, watching Earl and Deuce check their packs, seeing if there were any critical supplies they might be able to get from the ranger. So Zane had at least a few quiet minutes with Ty to broach a question that had been bothering him.
“Earl doesn’t think I should be here, does he?” Okay, it wasn’t much of a question, but it got his point across.
Ty looked up at him in surprise, jerking just enough to get his hand wet and splash water over his boots. “Damnit,” he muttered as he looked back down to reposition the canteen. “Why do you say that?” he asked Zane, looking up at him again.
“Could be that somewhat doubtful look on his face every time he looks at me,” Zane murmured.
Ty snorted and gave Zane a raspberry. “He looks at everybody like that.”
“He stated quite clearly that the military would have toughened me up,” Zane added.
Ty turned off the water and straightened to his full height, frowning at Zane as he screwed the cap onto the canteen. “Yeah, that sounds like him,” he said finally. “He’s not trying to be malicious,” he told Zane softly. “It’s just the way he is.”
Zane wasn’t exactly sure about that. “It’s a hell of a contrast to his friendly greeting when we met.”
“How’s that?” Ty asked in confusion.
“I don’t know,” Zane murmured. “I just didn’t like the implication that I’m not good enough to watch out for you.” He took the full canteen and handed Ty an empty one.
Ty took it automatically and went about filling it as well. “I don’t know what to tell you, Zane,” he said as he watched the water. “He gives me the same looks he’s giving you,” he said without looking up.
Zane frowned. “What? Why?”
Ty shook his head. “I told you, that’s just the way he is,” he repeated, sounding a little irritated. “He doesn’t mean any harm by it, but until you prove yourself to him, he’s going to look at you like you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”
“That’s a good way to describe it,” Zane muttered. Then he straightened. “Are you saying he still expects you to prove to him that you know what you’re doing?” he asked in a hushed but clipped voice.
Ty shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably and stopped the water again, standing up to fasten the cap on the canteen he held.
“Ty?” Zane said softly, now feeling some real concern. And it wasn’t for himself.
Ty met his eyes for a moment, either trying to think of an answer or a way to avoid any more of the conversation. “Don’t let it get to you,” he finally advised as he handed the full canteen to Zane and took another empty one from him. Zane reached out and closed his hand loosely around Ty’s wrist; Ty looked at Zane with a raised eyebrow. “What?” he asked as he gave his hand a tug.
“Do you follow your own advice?”
Ty pulled at his hand again and glanced over to where Earl and Deuce were. He pulled Zane closer and grunted, “Quit being weird.”
Zane gave him a small frown but let go of his arm. “Galloping crazies?”
“You’re the one from horse country,” Ty reminded with a twitch of his lips.
“Yeah, takes one to know one,” Zane muttered. “C’mon, partner. Many miles to go.”
Ty grumbled as he filled the last canteen. “We’re locking ourselves in a dark room for three days when we get back,” he muttered, just loud enough for Zane to hear.
“Sounds good to me,” Zane answered just as Earl and Deuce approached.
“You boys ready?” Earl asked them as he took one of the canteens and fixed it to his pack.
“Yes, sir,” Ty answered with a sideways glance at Zane.
“Let’s get moving, then,” Earl said as he turned and headed off.
THEY spent the next day and a half making their way slowly up the trail, winding ever higher, going farther and farther into the backcountry where not even trail cabins interrupted the wilderness. Earl had slowed their pace to a near crawl, being careful of the treacherous trail made slick and unreliable by the most recent storms.
Every now and then Ty would check his cell phone, noting that he hadn’t gotten even a hint of a signal since the storms had swept through. It made him a little nervous. He knew that you were pretty much on your own up here no matter what the conditions. You had to rely on yourself and your companions. But there was always that knowledge that help was just a day’s trek away—and in the last ten years or so, a phone call away.
Now they were completely cut off, out in territory none of them had ever seen before. Why Earl had picked this particular hike to go trailblazing, Ty didn’t know. He and Deuce had long ago stopped trying to figure out their father’s mind.
During a lag in conversation as they all concentrated on the rough terrain they traversed, Ty began to notice a distinct lack of noise. He frowned and glanced around for wildlife, finding only birds in the trees. No squirrels, no rodents, no deer in the distance. Nothing. He glanced up at the birds in confusion. If there were danger, the birds would have been long gone too. Deuce looked over his shoulder to meet Ty’s eyes, obviously taking note of the unusual silence as well. They both shrugged.
Deuce turned and kept going, but Ty picked up his pace, closing in on the men ahead of him. Something was setting off his warning bells, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. Something just felt off. He tried to tell himself it was the sudden change in weather or the exertion after so long stuck behind a desk. Earl hadn’t stopped moving, so maybe he wasn’t noticing the unusual quiet. Ty cursed under his breath, thinking they should have just turned back when the weather broke. Just as he caught up with Deuce, Earl stopped suddenly.
“It’s quiet,” Earl said as he turned to look at them. “Must be other hikers ahead of us,” he reasoned. Ty nodded in agreement and looked back down at the trail they’d just traveled. “Damned litterbugs, is what they are,” he heard Earl mutter under his breath.
He looked up to see Earl bending to pick up a faded Coke can someone had tossed to the side of the trail, just under the brush. Ty gasped for a breath as the scene triggered a full-fledged flashback: Earl blurred into a Marine ahead of him bathed in the green tint of night vision, kneeling to pick up a piece of trash on the side of a desert road.
“Dad!” Ty shouted in warning. He rushed past Deuce and Zane, who both
instinctively ducked and covered, and Ty tackled Earl to the ground just as he picked up the can. But it was too late. A string attached to something inside the can pulled and snapped as they fell, and in the brush just off the path, something clicked loudly.
“Run!” Ty cried as he pushed Earl to get up off the ground. The four of them scattered, heading for cover anywhere they could find it. Just after throwing themselves over and behind a couple of fallen logs, a small explosion rocked the mountain around them, the booming sound echoing through the trees, sending debris raining down on them.
“I ain’t seen nothing like that since ’Nam,” Earl panted after a long minute.
Deuce groaned where he lay in the dirt next to Earl. “You saying Charlie’s in the Appalachians trying to kill you?” he asked with a hint of psychiatric concern for his father’s sanity.
“Don’t be a smartass, Deacon,” Earl snapped. “I’m saying that was a trap set to kill. Only thing up here worth booby-trapping is marijuana. But I ain’t never seen marijuana growers use that kinda thing.”
Deuce rolled and flattened on his back, extracting his cell phone to check if it had reception. He cursed. “So what the hell? What are we dealing with here?” he asked breathlessly.
“If it isn’t marijuana, it sure as hell ain’t moonshine,” Ty offered as he lay on Earl’s other side, his face still pressed to the ground where he’d landed. His heart was racing, and adrenaline sang through him just like it always had when explosives had been involved back in his Recon days. His head felt swimmy, and he would have sworn that if he raised it to look around, he’d be looking through the lenses of night-vision goggles.
“Doesn’t help to jump to conclusions,” Zane murmured from his sprawl next to Ty. “With the information available on the Internet, a grade-schooler would know how to create something like that.”
“That’s not just something you come up with for shits and giggles,” Earl argued. “The Vietcong used to see how American soldiers liked to kick cans on the road as they marched through. They started setting up bombs set off by the kicks. That’s what this reminds me of. Must have been held taut by the weight of the can, and the release when it snapped triggered it. Takes a little bit a forethought, anyway, and sure as hell means they meant to kill.”