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Stabenow, Dana - Shugak 07 - Breakup

Page 7

by Breakup(lit)


  her friend's eyes. "Now we're getting somewhere."

  "How much?"

  "One million dollars."

  "It's yours."

  Kate laughed. "Or alternatively, the loan of your truck for a supply run

  into Ahtna."

  "You can have the million," Mandy said earnestly, "just as soon as they

  die and I inherit."

  She didn't add, The sooner the better, but they both thought it. "I'll

  settle for the loan of the truck," Kate said dryly. "I'll need it anyway

  if I'm going to ferry your parents around."

  "It's yours," Mandy said, holding up both hands flat out. A

  48 done deal. "You can have it. I'll buy another. No problem. My

  dividends are up this year from last." Obviously afraid Kate would

  change her mind, Mandy dug in her pocket and handed over the keys forthwith.

  Accepting them, Kate wondered if the IRS would call this exchange barter

  and subject to tax.

  49

  An hour later, she was wondering if there was any insanity in her family.

  To the barely concealed relief of her two guests, Mutt remained behind

  to keep the fear of God in the go team. Mandy had been dropped off at

  the top of the trail leading to her lodge, and Kate had driven the

  twenty-five miles of ice, slush, pothole, washboard and washout to

  Niniltna in a loquacious babble of information about Alaska in general,

  the Park in particular, and the Kanuyaq Copper Mine's life and death.

  There followed a complete history of the building of the Kanuyaq River

  and Northwestern Railroad, beginning in 1900 with the probably

  apocryphal story of two old Ninety-niners prospecting for gold with a

  couple of hungry pack mules. Casting about for graze, they looked up and

  saw a green mountain, only to find upon arrival

  50 that the mountain was not covered with grass, it was made of copper.

  They carried the news Outside, and a couple of the robber barons of the

  time, Carnegie and Mellon, or maybe it was John Jacob Astor, Kate

  couldn't remember and by this time didn't much care-

  "Guggenheim and Morgan," Mr. Baker said.

  Startled, Kate looked over at him, and then had to grab the steering

  wheel with both hands when the right front tire lurched into a pothole

  and Mandy's brand-new, bright red, four-wheel- drive Ford Ranger XL

  long-bed Supercab bottomed out. When they regained the horizontal-was

  the play in the steering wheel just a trifle looser than before?-Mr.

  Baker said, almost apologetically, "The Guggenheims are cousins."

  "Oh."

  "Distant cousins," Mrs. Baker added in austere reproof, and Kate

  wondered how the Guggenheims had managed to offend Mrs. Baker's delicate

  sensibilities. In the end, she decided that Mrs. Baker's beef probably

  had more to do with money than sex; maybe the Guggenheims had rooked the

  Bakers on a deal that rooked the shareholders even more. It had to be

  one or the other; in Kate's experience, sex and money were the prime

  motivating factors in every human quarrel. Look at God's fight with Adam

  and Eve, and that was probably over sex only because money hadn't been

  invented yet.

  Or maybe it was just that she had sex on the brain this spring. She

  brought herself firmly back into the present and her tour guide duties.

  Guggenheim and Morgan, then, purchased leases from the federal

  government, as Alaska was at that time a territory, finished the

  railroad from Kanuyaq (kanuyaq was Aleut for copper) to Cordova by 1911

  and ran raw copper ore down it for twenty- seven years. The ore played

  out at about the same time the price of copper went into the toilet, and

  it was abandoned in 1938, except by Park rats searching for useful

  fixtures such as stoves, iceboxes and toilets, and by the ever heavy

  hand of time.

  Kate's voice, a broken husk of sound to begin with as a result

  51 of the scar that nearly bisected her throat, a reminder of her former

  job in the investigator's office of the Anchorage DA, was just about

  gone. Mr. and Mrs. Baker had noticed the scar and ignored it, thereby

  demonstrating how very well they had been brought up. They were a polite

  and attentive audience, she'd grant them that. Still, the journey seemed

  interminable. They passed Niniltna without stopping, Kate thinking that

  Auntie Vi would be good for cocoa and fry bread on the way back and that

  her passengers would need it then more than they did now. There were

  only a few homesteads and a few lone cabins on the road between the

  village and the mine, and the surface had deteriorated conspicuously

  because of the lack of traffic to pound it into some semblance of shape.

  Mandy's pickup bounced and jounced from pothole to pothole, so that

  riding inside the cab was like riding inside a washing machine on the

  heavy-duty cycle. Mr. and Mrs. Baker attached hands like limpets to the

  dash and hung on for dear life.

  It didn't help when Kate jammed on the brakes and no one was wearing a

  seat belt.

  "What-" Mr. Baker started to say.

  There was an audible gasp from Mrs. Baker, and Mr. Baker looked around

  to see a grizzly explode out of the brush onto the road, catch sight of

  the big red truck, apply its own brakes by application of hindquarters

  to the surface and slide to a halt six inches off the front bumper.

  "Big one," Kate observed, trying to sound a little bored and succeeding,

  she was pleased to note, fairly well.

  Mr. Baker swallowed audibly. Mrs. Baker might have whimpered. Neither

  was in any state of mind to hear the breathless quality in their

  fearless guide's voice. A casual glance over her shoulder reassured Kate

  that Mandy's .30-06 was hanging on the gun rack in the back window as

  usual. Good to know.

  The bear was a female in the prime of life, with a thick, glossy brown

  coat, loose around her body after her winter nap. In the very short

  space of time granted for reflection, Kate estimated the bear's weight

  at approximately seven hundred pounds.

  52 Picking herself up briskly out of a puddle of slush, the bear let

  forth a roar of outrage, lowered her head and charged with a force and

  speed unpleasantly reminiscent to Kate of the previous morning. All

  seven hundred pounds hit hard. A high-pitched scream sounded from Mrs.

  Baker. "Oh my God!" cried Mr. Baker, and a grim Kate, who had

  automatically thrown out the clutch when she slammed on the brake, held

  on to the steering wheel with both hands as the truck skidded back at

  least four feet.

  The grizzly roared and rammed again. The truck slid back again, but the

  second ramming was less enthusiastic, and this time Kate had managed to

  shift into second before the bear hit, so the backward motion was only

  three feet and change. The grizzly bawled defiance a third time, reared

  up on her hind legs and made one swipe with a paw at the front bumper,

  which resulted in a screech of tearing metal. She placed her forepaws on

  the hood of the truck and did a violent push-up. Her claws left parallel

  grooves behind on the brand-new truck's brand-new paint job. The whole

  front end sank two feet, the shock absorbers groaning beneath the
>
  strain, and bounced back up again, so that Kate's head nearly ricocheted

  off the ceiling. As he was a foot taller than she was, Mr. Baker's did.

  Kate heard his curse as if from a great distance. Time seemed to have

  decelerated somehow, as if they and the bear were passing through deep

  water, the weight of it slowing action as well as reaction. There was no

  time to be afraid, but there was all the time in the world to observe.

  This bear was a beauty, standing eight feet or so at the shoulder. Her

  hump was the size of a small mountain, well formed and mature. There

  were dark red stains around her nose, mouth and throat, indicating a

  recent feeding, in which case Kate couldn't see what she had to be so

  cranky about. The silver tips of her coat caught the rays of the morning

  sun.

  There were no signs of a cub, which would have gone a long way toward

  explaining her throwing down the gauntlet to a top of the line Ford

  four-wheel-drive, one of the few mobile things in

  53 the Park that outweighed her. She reared up on her hind legs again,

  front legs curving in classic confrontational stance. Kate examined the

  claws revealed thereby with detached interest. Shreds of something pale

  were caught between the claws of the right paw.

  The bear gnashed her teeth at them. The clicking sound of incisor upon

  incisor was clearly audible inside the cab. It sounded just like an axe

  chopping wood, in fact just like yesterday's visitor, only louder, more

  solid and somehow infinitely more threatening. Someone whimpered.

  The bear gave a fourth and final bellow, dropped to all fours, whirled

  and charged headfirst through a thick stand of mountain hemlock, which

  proved less unyielding than the Ford's front end. The green branches

  crashed together, and as they quivered to an indignant standstill in the

  grizzly's wake, time returned to its normal steady passage.

  It was quiet in the cab of the truck for quite a while. At last Mr.

  Baker stirred. "What," he said, striving for an even tone despite the

  beads of sweat popping out on his forehead, "may I ask, was that

  extraordinary creature?"

  "That?" Kate said, and had to clear her throat. "Oh. That would be your

  basic brown, or grizzly, bear. Ursus arctos horribilis. An omnivorous

  North American mammal with a plantigrade gait. Plantigrade," she

  explained kindly, "means it uses the entire sole of its foot in walking.

  Homo sapiens is also a plantigrade mammal." It was difficult to shake

  off the pedant, Kate discovered, once she got hold of the scruff of your

  neck.

  "Indeed."

  "It's warming up," she added, "so they're waking up."

  Mr. Baker refrained from remarking on the superfluity of Kate's last

  statement and turned to his wife. "Are you quite all right, my dear?"

  Mrs. Baker shifted in her seat. Her voice was thin but steady. "Ms.

  Shugak, don't you think we should, perhaps, drive on?"

  "Certainly," Kate said, because the West Coast has its end to

  54 hold up, too. She let out the clutch and set off once again up the

  road to the mine, only very slightly grinding the gears. "The indigenous

  population of this area is largely Athabascan, but there has been a good

  deal of immigration from other parts of the state over the years-"

  A mile later the road mercifully ended in a cluster of shabby clapboard

  buildings, all painted the same fading red with white trim. Kate parked

  the truck in front of what had been the old mess hall and they got out

  to look at the view.

  It was sensational. The overcast had cleared and they were fifteen

  hundred feet up, with the blue-white peaks of the Quilak Mountains at

  their backs, stretching southeast to northwest, uncompromisingly

  beautiful and, Kate was pleased to see, effortlessly outhaughtying the

  Bakers. "Prince William Sound is that way," Kate said, pointing south.

  "And this"- a sweep of arm indicated a wedge of area that stretched from

  horizon to horizon-"is the Park. This valley is pretty much the Park's

  center, and where most of the people in it live. Just around that bluff,

  you can't see it from here, is a little plateau, we call it the Step.

  That's where Park Headquarters is. And see the glaciers?"

  It would have been hard to miss them. There were half a dozen in sight,

  beginning with the Kanuyaq, a sheet of translucent blue ice a hundred

  feet tall that formed the head of the Kanuyaq River. Water opaque with

  gray glacial silt roared downstream at the base of the cliff on which

  they stood. The glacier calved as they watched, an immense shard of

  blue-green crystal detaching from the main body of ice to fall

  ponderously into the river. A few seconds later the Crack! boom! crash!

  splash! reached them.

  The swift-moving surface of the river swelled into a wave that slammed

  into both banks at the same time. It uprooted a clump of small alders

  and washed out a boulder the size of Gibraltar, rolling it downstream as

  if it were of no more consequence than a glass marble.

  Even the Bakers seemed impressed. "Spectacular, really," said Mr. Baker.

  55 It was better than nothing, and Kate had begun to shepherd them

  toward the mill when Mrs. Baker said, "Why, who is that, do you suppose?"

  Kate heard a sobbing kind of shout and turned to see a man stumble out

  from behind what had been the company store. He fell practically at

  their feet. "Help me," he said, clawing at Kate's legs. "Help me." He

  fell forward, gasping for breath.

  She knelt and took hold of the man's shoulders. "What is it, mister?

  What's wrong?"

  "My wife, my wife!"

  "What about your wife?"

  His voice rose to a scream. "My wife! My wife!"

  "What about your wife!" Kate bellowed, shaking him. "What happened?"

  "Bear," he said, pointing back in the direction from which he'd run.

  "Grizzly attacked us. She's on the roof. Help her!"

  "The roof of what?"

  "One of the houAs! Help her!"

  The memory of the grizzly female they had encountered on the road up

  flashed through Kate's mind. The hairs prickling on the back of her

  neck, she cast a quick look around, saw no bears and stood to haul the

  man bodily to his feet. "Help me get him into the truck," she snapped at

  Mr. Baker.

  Together they got him into the truck, Mrs. Baker close behind. Kate

  reached for Mandy's rifle. "You two stay here with him," she said,

  checking the chamber. "I'll go round up the wife."

  "Ms. Shugak-" he began.

  "Stay here!" she barked. Without waiting for a reply she pivoted on one

  heel and headed down the road between the mine buildings at a trot, head

  up, eyes alert, a fine sweat of nervous perspiration breaking out along

  her spine. She had the edge on vision and weaponry but the bear would

  have the edge on smell, size, strength, quickness and claws. She knew

  who she'd have put her money on.

  Bears were odd beasts, she reminded herself; ninety-nine times

  56 out of a hundred they'd pass ten feet in front of you, ignoring you,

  at most roaring a challenge or faking a charge to satisfy honor.

  Yesterday morning
at the creek had been the exception, the young male

  she'd run off from the meat cache far more the rule.

  And the female with the stained muzzle? In which category did she belong?

  Kate checked the safety a second time. It was still off. Good. She held

  the rifle in front of her, right finger inside the trigger guard. Always

  prepared. She and the Boy Scouts.

  She cursed the couple who had picked this day to come up to the mine,

  cursed them for making her a hero, cursed herself for being in the wrong

  place at the wrong time and cursed them again for evidently coming

  unarmed into a region well known for its active bear population. Just

 

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