by Hunt, Jack
He snorted. “Seriously, do you think I would put a gun in her hand at this age?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not, I’d at least wait until she was nine.” He started laughing and Joyce slapped the back of his legs playfully. “Alright, let’s fire up this beauty and get fishing. Hey, did you know that Yellowstone Lake has the largest population of wild cutthroat trout in North America? And the weird part is that scientists didn’t know how these fish from the Pacific Ocean got trapped in the lake until recently.”
The motor growled to life and churned up the water behind the boat. Joyce was wiping ice cream away from Isabel’s mouth and half listening to him.
“Yeah, it seems they now believe that the lake drained into the Pacific Ocean through Outlet Canyon and Snake River and that somehow the fish made it across the divide at Two Ocean Pass.”
“Is that so?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Yep,” he said steering them out.
“Riveting,” Joyce said sarcastically.
Darryl eyed her through slit eyes and his lip curled up. “You know we could have gone to Florida.”
She chuckled. “Please, I would have had to hear you bellyaching about it every hour of the day.”
“Hey, c’mon now. I told you that I wasn’t set on coming here. I was quite willing to go anywhere you wanted as long as I got a break.”
“A break. Will you be taking a break while you’re here or logging on to your computer?”
He swallowed hard realizing that she’d found his laptop that he’d stashed beneath their clothes in one of the RV’s drawers. He shot her a sideways glance and gritted his teeth, preparing himself for the earful he was about to get.
“Oh yeah, I know you tried to slip that one by me.”
“It’s just in case clients want to contact me. I can quickly reply to their emails.”
“You’re on vacation. Couldn’t you have set up one of those autoreplies like everyone else does?”
“Joyce, sweetheart, it’s too impersonal. The only reason I’m able to land these clients is because I get back to them fast. If I don’t stay on top of this they will go elsewhere and then I’ll be scrambling for new clients when we get back and I would prefer to at least have some work set up for when I return.”
“So you’re not really taking a vacation?”
He groaned as the boat slid effortlessly through the calm waters.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Are you?”
“Seriously, I’m screwed if I do, and screwed if I don’t. Give me a break.”
“Darryl. If it wasn’t for me we wouldn’t even be here. You would still be stuck in that basement working on projects and moaning about how tired and overworked you are. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
He shrugged so she continued, “Like crap. Since I left my job you have made me feel like less of a person.”
“Oh really? What, so you’re going to spin this back on me? Am I to blame for your decision to stay at home with Isabel?”
“It was that or put her in child care as you are too busy with your work.”
“I told you I could look after her.”
“Sticking her in front of the TV while you work downstairs is not my idea of taking care of her.”
He sighed. He hated arguing. They’d been married for just over eight years but in the past three years their relationship had become rocky. Joyce blamed it on him working all the time but what was he meant to do? He would have loved to sit around doing nothing all day but that didn’t pay the bills. She wanted to have her cake and eat it too. Since giving birth her emotions were all out of whack. He suggested that maybe she was suffering from postpartum depression but obviously that was the wrong thing to say. She flew off the handle and spent two days at her mother’s house after that argument. Since that day she’d bite his head off anytime he said anything about the house being messy or her not taking care of herself. “How am I supposed to look after the baby and do all of that?” she asked.
“The same way that I work ten hours, and do all of that.”
The words slipped out and he immediately regretted them. The number of times he’d put his foot in his mouth were countless. It wasn’t like he wanted to start a war but the stress of his job had built up over time and he wasn’t the best at communicating — neither of them were. They were both as stubborn as one another.
Water sprayed up and a light mist hit his face. “Look, I don’t want to argue, Joyce. Can we just have a few hours where we don’t talk about what is going wrong in our relationship?”
“Fine,” she said, turning away.
He rolled his eyes. It seemed that even trying to prevent an argument was the wrong thing to do. He tried to push negative thoughts to one side, if only for his own sake. Darryl guided the boat out into the middle of the lake and then killed the motor. Joyce sat at the front of the boat with a permanent scowl on her face. It only changed when Isabel kissed her on the cheek. Isabel was good for them. That little girl kept them from letting the small things of life take control. Over the course of the next twenty minutes he cast out a line, and settled back to take in the sights. The lake itself was above sea level, it was 20 miles long and 14 miles wide, with over 140 miles of shoreline, some of which was made up of beaches. They could see other fishing boats on the water, and families playing by the shore. He squinted into the bright sky as a flock of birds wheeled overhead. Even though it was the middle of summer, there wasn’t any swimming in the lake because of its extremely cold temperatures that hovered around 41 degrees Fahrenheit. Darryl had overheard a ranger patrolling nearby advise a family that it was probably best not to swim but if they wanted to wade into the water they could. So of course a few brave souls ventured in up to their knees but soon hurried back to the warmth of the shore.
“Did you pack the sun cream?” Joyce asked, as she looked through her baby bag.
“I thought you told me to put it on the counter.”
“No, I said put it in the bag.” She groaned. “Well we can’t be out here long then.”
“But we just got out here.”
“Do you want Isabel to burn?”
“Just cover her up, she’ll be fine,” he said.
“Just put her in front of the TV, she’ll be fine,” Joyce replied.
His chin dipped. “Didn’t we just agree not to argue?”
Joyce rolled her eyes and fished into the bag for some sandwiches. She tossed a bacon and lettuce wrap on his lap. “Here, eat that and don’t choke.”
He laughed, and then she looked at him and smiled. It didn’t last. “Darryl. Do you think it’s safe here?”
“Of course. We’ve got life jackets and…”
“No, I don’t mean that. I mean here, in Yellowstone. Earlier on, that quake—”
“Joyce, relax. Turn on the radio and sit back and read your book. You said you wanted to get through it,” he said before peeling off the foil around the wrap. He took a deep bite and looked across the lake. Joyce got comfy on the cushions in the boat. She leaned back with Isabel in the crook of her arm and a mystery novel in the other hand. Small waves, barely noticeable, lapped against the sides of the boat, lulling them into a peaceful state. A deep blue sky with hardly any clouds stretched out over the dense pine trees. Another fishing boat churned up the water as it passed by. The skipper waved and Darryl gave a nod back. This was what it was all about. Nothing but blue skies, pristine waters and—
He felt a tug on the line. Darryl shot upright. “Hey, hey, I got one.” He began tugging on the handle and reeling it in. Within seconds, a trout emerged from the water flapping around. Isabel let out a squeal as Darryl hauled it in and dumped it into a bucket of water. “Oh we are going to eat like kings tonight.”
“Fish. Fish,” Isabel cried out.
“Yep, daddy just caught a big one,” Joyce said.
“Joyce, I’m feeling good about this. Let’s see if I can catch a dozen before the afterno
on is over.”
He cast his line back into the water and pulled down his Nike cap over his thick brown curly hair, and settled back with his wrap. A few crumbs dropped into his lap and he brushed them off. At his age, a dad bod had replaced his athletic college abs as his personal trainer liked to call it. It wasn’t something he was proud of so he would usually wear loose-fitting clothing to cover it up. It came from drinking one too many beers on the weekend, and an unhealthy habit of buying a donut with his daily coffee.
As he was cleaning off the crumbs, Isabel started yammering away.
“Fish. Fish.”
He didn’t look at her; neither did he look out at the water, as he was too busy digging into his tackle box looking for a specific lure. Darryl assumed she was still excited over his last catch as his fish bite alarm system would have alerted him with a sound if he’d caught something.
“Darryl,” Joyce said in a low voice.
“Yeah, hold on, I’m just…”
“Darryl.”
“What?”
He looked up and his eyes widened. Hundreds, maybe thousands of dead fish were bobbing along the surface of the water. He turned in his seat and his jaw went slack. For as far as the eye could see fish covered the lake. Other people fishing on the lake were standing in their boats and looking out in utter shock and disbelief. “What the…?”
Darryl leaned over the boat to reach down and pick one up. As he slid his hand into the water, he immediately withdrew it. What had been extremely cold only minutes earlier was now warm. It was like placing his hand into a lukewarm bath.
Fish continued to emerge, none were alive.
He’d never seen anything like it in his life.
“Darryl, take us back to shore.”
“Okay, okay.” He didn’t hesitate to fire up the motor and turn the boat around. Dead fish slapped around in the motor’s blades as he guided it through the watery graveyard. They were roughly two hundred yards from the shore when a sudden surge of water beneath them caused the boat to rise as if lifted by a giant wave. Joyce let out a scream and Isabel started crying.
Clutching the side of the boat for dear life, Darryl watched in horror as the lake water rose and surged forward, sending their boat heading for the sandy shore. It happened so fast. He felt his stomach catch in his throat as he lost control and the waters carried them. One minute they felt themselves being lifted, and the next the water dropped out and they found themselves beached and the water withdrawing over the banks and back into the lake.
Both of them hopped out of the boat and turned to see several boats capsized, and people splashing around in the fish-infested waters. Rangers frantically jumped into action, some told people to get back from the lake, others got on their radios and a couple hopped into a boat to try and help those washed overboard.
Many tourists stood by aimlessly in utter disbelief as fish washed up on the beach, and areas of the lake began to bubble, letting off steam into the atmosphere.
It was like something out of a biblical plague.
A horror unlike anything he could have imagined.
Darryl rushed to help but rangers were ordering people to head back to their campsites until further instructions.
Chapter 7
“You think they’re gone?” Wyatt said from their shrouded position in the forest. The wingsuit jump had been a complete success. It was an adrenaline rush that not even an orgasm could come close to. Nothing was like the thrill of flying through the air and feeling the wind whipping at their suits. Scaring the shit out of tourists and pissing off the rangers was just the icing on the cake. They’d landed just north of Yellowstone Lake in what was known as Elephant Back Mountain. Earlier that day, they’d set up camp near Dryad Lake, a thirty-eight acre oasis that was off the beaten path in an area of Yellowstone that was rarely frequented by hikers. It was like having their very own private getaway. Every year they changed location to keep the rangers on their toes and this year was no different. Billy was well aware of the consequences of getting caught and that’s why they’d opted for an isolated area where they weren’t far from the convenience of Bridge Bay campground but far enough that they could hop on their dirt bikes and disappear into the thick woodland at a moment’s notice.
After landing and trekking back through the forest they’d seen two ranger’s trucks come tearing along one of the wide trails, and seen four rangers fan out through the forest. It was to be expected.
The game of cat and mouse was afoot.
“Yeah, they’re gone,” Billy said, lowering the high-powered binoculars.
He rose to his feet, gathered up his backpack and changed out of the wingsuit and unscrewed the top of his bottle of water.
“You know, Billy, I was thinking maybe next year we could try Yosemite.”
“Yosemite? Why?”
Wyatt threw his hands up. “Are you kidding me? Two words. Taft Point.”
He waved him off. “No way, that place is cursed.”
“And you think this place is better?”
“At least here we’re familiar with the terrain, and we’ve built a rapport with the rangers.”
Wyatt laughed. “Rapport. Oh, we’ve built a rapport. If they get their hands on us we are looking at some serious jail time.”
“If,” he said, placing emphasis on the word. “We are always one step ahead.”
Wyatt shook his head as they pitched sideways down a steep incline. Billy looked at him and could see he was annoyed.
“What is it?” Billy asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re a shitty liar. Come out with it.”
“I’m just thinking it’s kind of getting old. You know, coming here and doing the whole wild goose chase. We’ve been lucky so far but I just get a feeling that our luck is about to run out.”
Billy chuckled and wrapped his arm around Wyatt’s neck. “How long have I known you?”
“Since we were kids.”
“And I have ever let you down?”
“No but you’ve led me into some crazy situations.”
“Dude, people sleep their way through life only wishing to be able to do what we do. Look at all the views we’ve racked up online. You’ve read the comments. These people think we are gods.”
“Idiots, you mean.”
Billy brushed past an Engelmann spruce tree.
“Idiots. Gods. At least we are getting paid well. Three years ago we didn’t have the sponsors we have now. We were living out of that shitty trailer in Montana, and doing handyman jobs for pennies on the dollar. Did you like that life? No. Now we get to travel all over the USA, dirt-biking, snowboarding, jumping out of planes and soaking in the beauty of God’s country. This was the way we were meant to live, Wyatt, not stuck behind a desk as a yes-man. That’s not the life for me, and don’t you dare say it’s what you want as you were the one bellyaching about the shitty jobs we used to do.” They made their way over to a clearing, a high precipice that overlooked the lake. “Look at that, Wyatt. Soak it all in. When we are bedridden at the end of our lives you’ll remember this, and I guarantee you won’t be complaining about causing a little trouble. You’ll be laughing your ass off.”
“But don’t you think there is more to life than this?”
“Like what… Paying taxes? Living paycheck to paycheck? Being someone’s bitch? Are you serious?”
He shrugged. “Listen, I like all of this but we’re the only ones that benefit.”
Billy opened his mouth agape. “Oh, you did not just say that.”
“Think about it, Billy.”
“I don’t need to. We are entertaining the masses. What higher purpose can there be? We pull people out of their dreary lives and for a short while we allow them to imagine they are us. Living the dream. Every person that clicks on one of our videos only wishes they were us. Stop overthinking it.”
“It just doesn’t feel like we’re making a difference.”
“What are you, Mother Teresa? You want u
s to donate money to the poor? Oh… hold on a minute… you already did. The poor was us. I don’t remember anyone giving us shit when we were down and out. Everything we have, we have had to work for. So why the hell I should we give a damn about anyone else?”
Wyatt shook his head. “I’m not talking about donating money. You know what I mean.”
“No I don’t. So enlighten me.”
Wyatt didn’t respond so Billy squeezed the back of his neck playfully and he grinned. “Alright, maybe next year we’ll check out Yosemite. Sound good?”
Wyatt nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Good, now let’s head down and get a fire going. I’m starving.”
It took them another twenty minutes to work their way down to where the lake was and make their way around to where they’d left their belongings. Billy had camouflaged the dirt bikes with branches from the trees.
“What do you fancy for dinner tonight? Elk or fish?” Billy asked as he uncovered their equipment and brought wood down to the beach so they could start a fire.
“I don’t care as long as I don’t have to catch it.”
“Ah… that’s how you want to do this? Fine. You set up the tents and…” He withdrew his Remington 798 rifle and slung it over his shoulder. “I’ll see if I can bag us an elk.”
“If not, a squirrel will do,” Wyatt said in jest.
Billy flipped him the bird and headed into the thick woodland. He’d become a pro at hunting and when he wasn’t recording stuff for their channel, he could be found up at his cabin in Montana with his old man fishing and hunting. After some of the extreme sports they did, hunting was the next best thing. He knew there were folks out there who saw it as inhumane or cruel but there was nothing he had killed that hadn’t been used up. Excess meat was given to neighbors in his town and the skins went to the local hunting store. He was doing the world a favor.
Billy breathed in the scent of pine and damp soil. He stopped every so often to mark the trees with chalk so he didn’t lose his way. As he trudged through the forest he thought about what Wyatt had said. At the age of twenty-four he hadn’t really given much weight to future plans. He’d lived his life with the motto that tomorrow may never come, and he squeezed out as much excitement and adventure from each day as humanly possible. A few of his family members said he was a fool to do what he did for a living as the police would one day catch up with him but he didn’t believe it. They wore skull and crossbones bandannas over their faces, along with sunglasses. There were no birthmarks or tattoos, nothing that would give them away — unless the cops were good at identifying a person by their voice. And they had an agreement with sponsors to send funds into a PayPal account that he’d paid a close friend to set up. From there they transferred the money out to a bank account as and when they needed it. The account was offshore so they didn’t have to worry about the prying eyes of tax people or cops who might see one of their sponsors and try to trace them. So far it had worked.