The Fault With The Spy

by Linda Mackay

  “I’m thinking of changing my age requirements for this one.” Amanda poked my shoulder. “Unless, you’re interested. He is more with you in the been-there-done-that age bracket.”

  I’m not even forty and Miss twenty-something has me headed for a wheelchair. Although, since that aftershock tumbled me down the steps this morning, I’d prefer riding a wheelchair instead of the horse I was about climb on. I sure hope I packed ibuprofen along with whiskey and underwear. Crap, now I needed to check to be sure I packed the whiskey.

  “He’s all yours. I’m happy with my horses for this trip.”

  “I hope you’re talking about getting a thrill from bouncing up and down in the saddle, cuz otherwise we need to talk,” Amanda said. “At a gallop it’s better than sitting on a dryer.”

  “Hey, Twinkies,” Todd yelled. “Are you ready to ride?”

  “Head ‘em up and move ‘em out ready.” I settled into my saddle on Arikira, who’d decided to be bored with the whole event, and was happily munching grass.

  “Me too.” Amanda sat a horse like a kid trying to ride a Harley. She looked good on it, but riding it was an ugly sight. Didn’t matter how many lessons she’d taken from Frank or the cowboys; horses were not her thing. I’d only seen her pitched off once, and half the cowboys in the county came running to her rescue, so you’d expect her to do it again for attention. Not Amanda. She fought like a rodeo bronc-buster to stay on the back of her horse after that. I’d been sitting a horse since I was two, and still at least once a year found my butt bounced to terra firma. I guess there’s something to be said for her hanging onto the saddle horn with a death grip.

  I looked at the red hills surrounding the ranch. Clinging to the edges of the rough cliffs was a herd of mountain sheep. They were watching over us like sentinels and I had an uneasy feeling in my chest. I hope they were sending word to others that I would need their help on this journey. You probably think I’m wacko, and you wouldn’t be alone. I’ve learned to live with it. I only talk about what I hear with a select few. Many people don’t believe, which is why I’m happy living in the mountains and ignoring the naysayers. My mother called it, a higher self. I think it’s more like having a sixth sense. For me that extra sense is an ability to understand and act on what animals are communicating. The trade-off for that ability is I don’t have a clue what humans are thinking.

  Growing up, Dad was always telling me to stop daydreaming and pay attention. Behind his back, mom would whisper to me that it was okay to have my head in the clouds since the most important words came from there.

  When I was six I wandered off from the ranch listening to the clouds. When it started to rain I had no idea where I was, or how far from home. I’ve been told most little kids would panic and start crying. Instead, I looked at my surroundings until I saw a pair of eyes in the sagebrush. In my head I clearly heard, follow me. I started following and soon walked out of the mountains onto ranch pasture and home. I looked back at the trees on the hillside, and there stood the black wolf. It nodded its head at me, and then ran into the trees.

  No one missed me because they thought Grampa Nus was watching me. When I told mom about my afternoon, she didn’t scold me about the danger I’d been in. She hugged me and said that no matter what anyone ever tells me always listen to those voices. She said there were two things I must never forget. One, was to keep the voices a secret from the world. Two, was to listen to those thoughts in my head and act on them. If anyone knew that to be true, my mom did. Six years later that truth would kill her.

  Chapter 4

  The horses settled into a rhythm as we rode through the meadow bursting with the purples, reds, and yellows of wildflowers. I was quietly singing The Stones, I Can’t Get No Satisfaction, which was one of my go-to time killer songs when riding or hiking long distances. I have a habit of singing louder as the day wears on and boredom builds up. I’m not good with boredom. Talking to rocks, plants, basically anything around overtakes me, which may be fine when you’re alone, but tends to make others want to call the loony police on you.

  “Anyone got a candy bar handy, I’m starving,” Todd said.

  “We just left and you’re already whining.” Amanda pulled out her slingshot. “I swear I’m going to shoot you right off your horse.”

  “You use that and I’ll stun gun you.”

  I had no idea why Todd loved that stun gun, but one spring after his annual winter trip to a tropical island he returned to the ranch with it. Amanda however, had been an expert marksman with the slingshot as long as I’d known her.

  Mac trotted his horse along side mine. “Are they going to argue the whole way there?”

  “Yup, and all the way home too.”

  “Ever follow through on their threats?”

  “Numerous times.”

  “Todd stunned her?”

  “No, but Amanda uses her slingshot on him regularly with berries, peas, stuff that may sting, but nothing serious. Todd usually retaliates by stealing her make-up and destroying it.”

  “Are you telling me she wasted space in her pack with make-up?”

  “Sure am.”

  “I’m riding with the circus.” Mac shook his head and let his horse fall back in single file.

  I’m not sure the circus would want any of us. But there’s no one else I’d trust my life too in the backcountry than our little band of crazies.

  Arikira tensed her sides against my legs as the ground vibrated. “Aftershock!”

  The ground pitched and rolled underneath the horses’ hooves. I tightened the reins while subliminally telling all the horses to remain calm. I guess it worked as everyone was still seated when the rolling ceased.

  “That will keep us on our toes.” Frank said climbing off his horse. “Dismount and check the cinches and loads.”

  “Was this one bigger, or am I imagining it?” Special Forces asked.

  I rubbed Chimayo’s mane answering him, “It may have felt bigger, but it wasn’t. We are in different soil than at the ranch, and different location, so the intensity will feel different.”

  “You better hope the magnitude isn’t growing, then these would all be foreshocks and the Big One would be yet to come,” Amanda said.

  “These are not foreshocks!” Hard to believe, but Todd can be the voice of reason. “The soil here is poorly consolidated, it’s young glacial deposits.”

  Special Forces listened intently, so I elaborated. “Many of the high mountains in the Rockies, like the Beartooth, Wind Rivers, and Big Horns are granite, hard limestone and sandstone. Not the Absaroka bounding Yellowstone, or Jackson Hole to the East. They are young volcanic deposits that erode rapidly.”

  “They can easily crumble underfoot in an earthquake,” Amanda said.

  Frank looked at Mac. “If you get them started, they’ll never shut up.”

  “I’m okay with that.” Mac shuffled the ground under his boot. “So the earth movement basically crumbles the ground we’re standing on.”

  “Yes.”

  “Which to me says that hillside could come tumbling down on us at any moment.”

  I pulled the underwear out of my butt, and adjusted my jeans. “Aftershocks can cause as much damage as the original quake.” I gave up on adjustments, unzipped my jeans, and resettled my wayward underwear.

  “If you went commando, your saddle wouldn’t keep realigning your panties,” Todd said.

  “If I went commando, more than my panties would be realigned.”

  “Hey, people can we get back to what’s important?” Mac’s face looked liked he’d eaten a bad persimmon.

  “Children, mount up and ride, time’s a wasting.” Frank headed up-trail out of the meadow and into the trees.

  Mac reined his horse next to me. “If all this so called soft ground erodes away, then why are there so many high mountains, instead of little hills?”

  “Because there’s an uplift mechanism at work, and it’s called magma from the advancing Yellowstone hotspot. The magm
a pushes the ground up faster than erosion tears it down.”

  “Quakes, erosion, glaciers, and magma. Nice combination you have going here.” Mac reined in Chimayo, and fell in line behind me as the trail narrowed between the trees.

  “Don’t forget the landslides caused by the quake, the huge waves on lakes created by ground movement, and flooding if the dam fails.” Amanda yelled turning in her saddle to look back at us.

  “How safe are we right now?” Mac asked.

  I had to give him credit for not having a hint of fear in his voice. He was all business, assessing the situation he’d opted into without all the details. If he was really a spy of some kind I bet he’d been led down this trail before. If not, I’d give him a fifty percent chance of turning around and heading home.

  “Five on retreat,” I said.

  “I’ll take that, and no way it’s happening.” Todd was in.

  “I’m in, not happening,” Amanda said.

  “Fifty on not happening.” Frank yelled from the front of the line.

  “What the hell are you guys talking about?” Mac asked.

  Frank stopped his horse and looked back with a huge grin lifting his mustache in the air. “They’re betting on you turning tail and heading back to the ranch, after Jorie answers your question.”

  “Then I’m in for fifty, that I stay.”

  “You can’t bet on yourself?”

  “Why not?”

  “Well…first I didn’t take Frank’s raise. And second, my bet, my rules. You’re out.”

  “Anyone ever tell you, you’re awfully bossy?” Mac asked.

  “All the time,” Todd volunteered.

  “Okay. I’m out of the bet. Now answer my question.”

  I saw the group staring at me, daring me to say something stupid. Yes, I know that’s what they’re thinking, because I normally would say something stupid. I open my mouth, and out comes dumb shit all the time. This time I wasn’t embracing stupid.

  “We’re not safe at all. We’re going to be on and off the horses constantly dealing with aftershocks. We’re going to run into cracked earth, landslides that block our trail requiring us to turn around and find another route, and other landslides occurring as we ride sending giant boulders careening into our path that could kill us. We will encounter dormant geysers come to life, and steam vents that have been reactivated and can burn us. Swamps that were once mud have turned to quicksand and can swallow us whole. Bears, moose, mountain lions, wolves and even little marmots will be afraid and may respond aggressively to us instead of moving away. Need any more details Special Forces?”

  “I got it, Sugar. You might want to move before that boulder takes you out and you can’t pay up on that lame bet.”

  I reined Arikira sharply to the left. The boulder turned out to be a jumble of small rocks slowly rolling down the hillside. Arikira turned her head and looked at me like I was nuts. “Not funny!”

  Mac smiled, “Pay up.”

  “Next time, I’m not listening when you issue a warning.” So much for not saying anything stupid.

  We’d be lucky to travel ten miles today. The ground rolled, the horses pranced under us, and Frank cussed the delays. On the other hand, I was happily anticipating the first river crossing. I watched Special Forces riding Chimayo and silently sent my horse a message to dump her rider mid-river.

  Frank reined in his horse as we neared the river. “Don’t let the horses eat or drink until we’ve made the crossing. Keep their heads up and moving.”

  Frank rode into the water first, followed by Todd and Amanda. “Go ahead Mac, experience brings up the rear.” Actually, I just wanted a front row seat for the dunking. Chimayo carefully entered the river. Special Forces said something to her, and she stepped surefooted across the river and up the opposite bank.

  What the heck just happened? My water skittish horse had waltzed across the river, not once trying to lower her head and pitch her rider. If I can’t depend on my horse for support I was screwed. Damn you Chimayo. At least she had the decency to look me in eye and lower her head.

  “You got a problem over there,” Mac yelled.

  Arikira snorted and stomped her hooves in the river. I pulled her reins; trying to steady her attempt to show me she was boss. We fought each other the last half of the trip across the river. As we left the river she shook the water off her hide and stomped one last time.

  “Don’t think that horse is very happy with you.” Special Forces laughed as I hopped off Arikira. He took the reins and led both my horses back to the river’s edge to get a drink.

  “Holy banana fart, Batman.” Todd said walking up behind me. “Never seen Arikira balk at a river before.”

  “Me neither,” Frank added. “Must be something in the air.”

  “And nice air it is.” Amanda smacked my ass with the water purifier. “Time for a drink.”

  “Let’s rest for 30, make some lunch, listen to the radio,” Frank said.

  I walked over to a lodgepole pine, sat down, leaned back against the trunk and ignored everyone. I’d been perfecting my disappearing act since I was three, when Grampa Nus told me I couldn’t have a drink of his beer. It normally didn’t take long before the beauty around me eased my foul mood. The forest and mountains were better for anxiety than Xanax. The red and purple hills around the mountain valley had given way to a rainbow of gray rock and more colors of green than a designer had swatches.

  Todd lit a fire and made coffee. Amanda pulled a mirror from her saddle pack and was refreshing her eye shadow. Frank and Mac huddled around the radio. I pulled stickers out of my jeans watching the muscles in Special Forces thighs move up and down as he squatted listening to radio traffic. I wouldn’t be in this sticker mess if I’d put on chaps. Instead in my usual rush I’d put on chinks, which are shorter and offer less protection for your legs. At the rate I was going, I’d need full body armor before this trip was over.

  “Coffee.” Special Forces offered me a steaming cup and sat down next to me.

  “Thanks.”

  “I thought soldiers drank a lot of coffee, but I think cowboys may have them beat.” Mac sipped his coffee.

  “Keeps us warm, and awake.”

  “I had a buddy who swore the officers made us drink the vile, strong stuff so we’d have a good crap every day.”

  “Add a little whiskey and it does the same thing.”

  “Officers frowned on that when you’re on duty.”

  “Glad Frank is our officer then.” I pointed to Frank pouring a healthy dose of whiskey in his coffee mug. “We’ll know it’s time to make camp for the night when Frank falls off his horse.”

  “You kidding me?”

  “A little.” I couldn’t believe how blue Special Forces eyes were. I tried to see if he was wearing colored contacts. “When we round up cattle in the fall and a wet snow is soaking us the Jack both helps and hinders. Once my horse walked between two trees that didn’t leave enough room for both my legs. Got my knee tangled up and twisted it. We were miles from camp, and had cattle to round up. So, Frank passed the medicinal whiskey to me and I kept going. When we arrived back in camp at nightfall I wasn’t sure if it was my hurt knee or the amount of whiskey I’d consumed, but I slid off my horse and landed splat on my butt feeling no pain.”

  “And the next morning?”

  “I was up before light, and all the other cowboys. Wrapped my knee, took three aspirin and rode out.”

  “You’d have made a good soldier.”

  “Nah…don’t like authority much. And ticks me off how obligated I feel to do whatever they say.”

  “There is that.” Mac took a drink of his coffee. “Tell me about Todd’s stun gun and Amanda’s sling shot skills.”

  “Frank and some of the cowboys tried to teach Todd to shoot. Total disaster. He blew out windows, tires on trucks and actually did hit the side of the barn. Couple years ago he arrived at the ranch with a Taser. I watched him dead center, stun a squirrel that crawled into his bac
kpack.”

  “I’ll stay out of his backpack then.”

  “Amanda’s slingshot skills go back to being a kid in Florida. She and her brothers grew up playing with them, while her brothers out grew it, she was entering competitions.”

  “Seriously, they have competitions?”

  “Evidently. However, don’t be fooled by the slingshot. She’s arguably the best shot on the ranch.”

  “Noted.”

  “Lunch is ready.” Todd said stirring the pot on the fire. “I whipped up beef stroganoff for your dining pleasure.”

  Amanda shook her head. “Meaning, he reconstituted it from freeze dried.”

  “Don’t ruin the dining experience. A little mystery makes the meal taste better.”

  “This isn’t bad,” Mac said.

  Frank turned the radio off and joined us around the fire. “The dam is still in danger. Showing cracks, some leakage, and making noise.”

  “Any noise coming from Yellowstone?” I asked.

  “Nothing coming out, only chatter from here trying to reach them.”

  “What’s our ETA?” Mac asked.

  “Today we won’t travel much further since the aftershocks and rockslides are bothering the horses,” Frank said.

  “They’re not doing much for my sanity either.” Todd said putting the pot away and kicking dirt on the fire.

  “If the rock people over there are right, temblors will be farther apart tomorrow. I then want to push the horses a little, if they show stress we back off,” Frank added.

  “Where exactly do you want to camp tonight?” I asked.

  “Somewhere close to Lily Lake. If we ride the Forest Service roads in the Mount Leidy area we can move faster.”

  Mac finished off a bite of stroganoff. “If I may offer a suggestion, considering our tenuous and questionable situation, I don’t think we should camp in developed areas or anywhere near other people.”

  “That’s going to be hard to pull off since it’s the Fourth of July and people are camped everywhere,” Amanda said.

  “Every legal and illegal campsite will be occupied,” Todd offered.