Fault Line In The Sand

by Linda Mackay

  I knew he was hedging. “How much of that was yours?”

  “Three cords.”

  Todd and I started laughing.

  “Holy freeze your butt off, Batman. You’ll be out in January,” Todd said.

  “I have solar power for my electric heaters.”

  “Your solar panels weren’t designed to generate enough electricity for all your other uses along with heating,” I said.

  “Brother, you are in big trouble.” Todd patted Mac on the back.

  “Who told you three cords was all you needed?” I was curious which cowboy had hoodwinked the dude.

  “No one. I told them that should be enough.”

  “Haven’t you learned to ask questions first?” I wasn’t about to give him any of my wood. “Looks like you’ll be heading back east unless you plan to go without heat.”

  “You’re not running me out. I’ll cut more when we get back,” Mac said, “how much more do I need?”

  Todd patted him on the back. “Jorie has ten cords stacked in the shed next to her cabin. The main house has twenty.”

  “There’s no way you burn that much wood.” Mac wasn’t looking happy.

  “I burned seven last year,” I said. “You always have extra for those emergency survival situations you like to refer to.”

  “If you ask really nice, maybe we’ll help you,” Todd said.

  “Do not volunteer me!”

  “Ah, come on, Jorie, help out the dude,” Todd said.

  “It’s going to cost!”

  “Name your price,” Mac said.

  “Once we decide what we’re buying…if we’re short money in the swear-boot, you have to put in the rest.”

  “Sounds fair.”

  Darn! He agreed to that too easily. “And Todd you can’t leave the ranch until you’ve helped cut and stack his wood.”

  “It was your idea.” Mac put his arm around a frowning Todd.

  “Fine. I’ll stay. But I better not be stuck in snow country so long I’m forced to ride out on a snow machine.”

  “Now that you’ve worked out helping the dude,” Liz laughed, “can we go back to camp and warm up?”

  Before anyone could answer the ground started thumping.

  “Oh crap.” I said, feeling good about not contributing any more money to the swear-boot.

  “Earthquake?” Liz asked.

  “Bison!” Todd yelled.

  “Follow me.” I moved behind a tight group of L-shaped lodgepole pines that would be impossible for bison to run between. They could circle around them, but I was hoping they had a different plan. Everyone moved in behind me as the lead bison ran into view.

  “Guess the snow covered up we were near a game trail,” Todd said.

  “Why didn’t you know they were coming?” Liz asked me.

  “Once again, I can communicate with animals, I’m not a freaking magician. Now be quiet so I can try to keep them moving.”

  “Holy hell, those two are looking right at us,” Todd said.

  Mac smacked him on the arm and covered his mouth with his other hand.

  I telepathed a calming cadence I hoped would keep them moving and not incur their interest. Most tourists don’t take seriously the flyer rangers give them at all park entrances, about how dangerous wild animals are. And they definitely ignore the fact bison injure more people in Yellowstone than any other animal.

  Hunting bison was considered the most dangerous activity my ancestors faced in their quest for food and clothing. It’s the main reason some tribes stampeded bison over cliffs instead of trying to individually kill them.

  “Look out.” Todd said, pushing me to the other side of the trees.

  A six-month-old calf ran up next to us. Curiosity kills more than cats, and this one’s mother was not happy and huffed and grunted at him. He ignored mom and stood shaking his head at the strange creatures squeezed between the trees. Mac took off his pack and swung it at the calf. I grabbed the pack with enough force to rip it out of Mac’s hand and drop it at my feet. The mother grunted, rebuffing her wayward child and Mac. I told the mother we wouldn’t harm the calf and after two steps toward us, and eye contact that scared the shit out of me, I heard the word back in my head. The baby backed-up and returned to its mom side.

  “Never taunt a bison! Your next assignment is to read about bison before you get us all killed. And never, ever make a move on any animal without checking with the experts first.” The blood in my head pounded with such force I could not only hear it, but it was making me light-headed

  The small herd moved on and the forest was once again quiet.

  “For huge animals there wasn’t much warning they were coming,” Mac said.

  “The snow muffled everything until their combined weights made the ground vibrate.” I said still trying to calm down after Mac almost got us killed.

  “I peed myself,” Liz announced.

  We all looked at her. I was glad to see she was smiling.

  “I had to go really bad, and when that young buffalo came up to us, it just let go.” Liz was doing the wide-legged walk of shame.

  “Head back to the lake and we’ll wash everything out, unless you brought a second pair of winter insulated pants?” Todd asked.

  Liz shook her head no. “Only an extra pair of jeans.”

  We soon reached the shore of Lake Yellowstone after an exhausting day tramping around in deep snow.

  Todd looked at Liz. “What you waiting on? Take off your pants and get to washing.”

  Liz looked around at the rest of us.

  “I take it you’re a prude,” I said.

  “No, it’s just freezing cold to be standing around half-naked.”

  “You want to walk all the way back to camp, change clothes, and then hike back here?”

  That did it. She took her boots off and stripped from the waist down. Mac and I turned around to give her some privacy, while Todd picked up her snow pants and began washing them out.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Liz told him.

  “Slip your boots back on, and get to work on your long underwear,” Todd said. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we get back to camp.”

  I poked Mac in the shoulder and pointed south.

  He shook his head. “I don’t see anything.”

  “You will.” I turned to Todd, tapped him on the shoulder and pointed south. He nodded understanding.

  “Hurry up, Liz, my fingers are frozen.” Todd hedged on his reasoning.

  “Don’t get your panties in a wad.” Liz was clearly not having a good time.

  Mac saw it. “How did you see that?”

  I rolled my eyes at him.

  “Got it,” Mac said. “Move out everyone, we’re done here.”

  Todd saw the bear and grabbed Liz by the arm. “Now!”

  Her training clicked in. Without question, her boots untied tripping her up, she moved into the trees with the rest of us. I led the way back to camp. Once we were away from the shore I stopped to let Liz tie her boots, before moving out again.

  Approaching camp I called out so Amanda wouldn’t be alarmed by the noise. Unfortunately, nothing could prepare her for the sight of Liz naked from the waist down.

  “Nice legs.” Amanda whistled as Liz ran to her tent exposing her backside. “Those legs have nothing on that tight tushy.”

  Liz rewarded her with a one-finger salute.

  “Anyone going to tell me why she’s naked?” Amanda asked.

  “We had a run-in with some bison, and one scared the pee out of her,” Todd laughed.

  “It looks like there’s more to the story than that.” Amanda knew we came into camp both in a rush and checking our backs.

  “We might have encountered a bear walking up the shore,” Todd said.

  “Might have, my tight tushy.” Liz yelled from her tent.

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” I said. “He didn’t follow us.”

  “Then why are you looking around like the bear is close?�
� Mac asked.

  “Safety first.”

  “I’m getting this fire blazing for numerous reasons,” Todd said.

  “I’ll keep watch,” Mac added.

  “I’m going to find a log to sit over.” I headed to the other side of camp, picking up a small shovel for burying the evidence.

  Amanda laughed and blew her nose. “Looks like the encounter got more than pee moving.”

  “Call if you need help getting off that log,” Mac said.

  “Bite me!”

  I entered the trees to laughter from those recalling my previous unfortunate incident with a log, and Liz asking for details.

  The last few days had produced new evidence while leaving old questions still unanswered. One new question was bothering me. Why hadn’t there been a thorough search of the area to be sure nothing incriminating was left behind? Tonight, the job of hanging bear bags fell to Mac and I, and it was as good a time as any to discuss my concerns.

  “Why haven’t the President’s lackeys secured the area?”

  “I’m pretty sure she’s pissed at how many people have been brought in after the assassination. Any more people included would need to be ‘in the know’ to do an accurate search. Add hubris to the list, and the best decision is to focus on the bay and pretend there’s nothing else incriminating to be found.”

  “I guess it would be hard to enlist the help of the secret service or others. It’s not like you can tell them to retrieve forgotten bodies and concrete.”

  “Even dumb spies would know something is wonky.” Mac gave me a smile that would make most women want to ravage his hard body. Obviously, I was immune to his charms.

  We finished hanging the bags, choosing to move them further away from camp tonight. The wind blew, chilling me through my three layers of clothing. “I think it’s colder than the forecast predicted.”

  “It’ll feel good to get back in sunshine tomorrow. Do you think it will be safe to camp in the open?” Mac asked.

  “It’ll be fine. There’s no doubt in my mind that Bull and his team have fled the park. Once winter makes an appearance he has no reason to hang around. There’s always next year, since he’s on a two-year grant.” I crossed my fingers behind my back, and hoped I was right.

  “Mountain time. Never a reason to rush,” Mac said.

  “That’s right. The rest of the world can have high blood pressure, heart attacks, and mental breakdowns when their lattes aren’t perfect. Mountain folk prefer to have a cold brew and enjoy the scenery.”

  Walking back into camp Todd offered Mac the whiskey bottle. “No thanks, think I’ll sleep just fine without it.”

  “I’ll take his share.” Amanda sneezed from her tent.

  “You’ve had your medicine, so be quiet. Geez, you’re a terrible patient,” Todd said.

  “You’re a terrible doctor.” She sneezed again.

  “I’m the official camp doctor,” Liz said, “and I say go to sleep.”

  “Cranky broad,” Amanda yelled.

  “Be nice or you won’t get any more meds,” Liz warned. “Pass me that bottle.”

  “I thought you didn’t like whiskey?” I asked.

  “I don’t, but it may stop me from shooting her.”

  “I heard that!”

  “I’m getting my gun,” Liz was going to need more than whiskey if this kept up.

  Mac locked his hands behind his head and leaned back against a tree. “I thought Tata were bad.”

  The wind whipped the fire sending embers scurrying for cover. Tents flapped, the horses huddled together, and I was ready for bed. “Anyone have an objection to letting the horses graze untethered tonight?”

  Todd looked at the lazy group ignoring us. “I don’t think they have any interest in going anywhere in this wind.”

  “Will it snow more tonight.” Liz asked tightening the strings of her coat hood around her neck.

  “Barometer says no. The wind should be blowing in a warm front by morning. I’m ready for bed, want any help putting out the fire?” I looked at Todd.

  “No thanks, I got it.”

  “Sleep well, don’t let the bears bite,” Mac said.

  “I’m not worried, I left gummy worms around your tent.” I unzipped our tent and let Liz in first.

  Buried in a sleeping bag was the best way to keep warm on cold nights. With the fire completely out, Mac and Todd were not far behind us. “There’s a lot more room in here without Jorie.” Todd yelled over at my tent.

  “I had no idea she took up so much room,” Mac added.

  Liz and I chose to ignore them.

  “Jorie, wake-up, bison are in camp. What should we do?” Liz stopped shaking my shoulders long enough for me to feel the ground rolling under me like small waves on the ocean. Either our tent had been moved by gremlins and set adrift on the lake, or we were in the middle of a small earthquake.

  “It’s an earthquake, go back to sleep.”

  The movement stopped. “I visited Yellowstone when I was a kid and the park seemed more friendly then,” Liz said.

  “The naiveté of youth sees a lot of things with rose colored glasses.” The warm front had arrived so I took off the wool ski hat I’d been sleeping in.

  “That may be, but fear was trained out of me and I’m not thrilled with its return,” Liz said.

  “Healthy fear keeps you alive.”

  “This isn’t healthy. In fact, I think it’s absurdly insane.”

  “I like your description, can I quote you?”

  We both laughed, but just as I was drifting back to sleep Liz put her face close to mine. “I want the truth.”

  “You told me lies were better.”

  “I said lies are easier. In almost every operation there comes a moment when you want the truth or you abort. Now is that moment,” Liz said.

  “What truth are you looking for?”

  “What’s really happening here, geologically?”

  Since she was heavily armed, I didn’t think this was the time to be a smartass and tell the story of Yellowstone 50 million years ago. “Imagine a group of people doing cannonballs into a small pool at the same time. The wake they create will slosh back and forth over the sides of the pool creating a lingering disturbance after the initial impact in the water. That’s what’s happening with the underground plumbing in Yellowstone.”

  “But a cannonball disturbance would end quickly, and I don’t call earthquakes three months later normal,” Liz said.

  “Normal is not a word I’ve ever used. Other scientists feel the need to pacify the public by throwing around the word normal. Not me. We’re sleeping on top of a volcanic hot spot that experiences small quakes almost daily. In my opinion, we have either expected occurrences or possible occurrences.”

  “Would you say that earthquake was expected?”

  “Yes.”

  Liz moved back to her sleeping bag and out of my face. “I’m not asking any more questions because I don’t think I want the possible answer.”

  Smart woman.

  Chapter 14

  While the geology crew broke camp and saddled horses, Mac and Liz took Deli to retrieve the body. They also were taking more pictures. It was the main reason Mac returned to the assassins’ campsite. The body, according to him, was a bonus. I preferred bonuses that involved a trip to Comicon—occasionally I leave the ranch—or a hot-muscled cowboy willing to shovel my roof this winter.

  “I see them coming through the trees,” Amanda sniffled. “Saddle up.”

  We were mounted and waiting when Mac and Liz walked into camp. “You three in a hurry?” Mac asked.

  “The sun is shining and we’re sitting in the shade freezing,” Todd said. “Where’s the body?”

  “It’s too fragile to move without further contaminating the evidence. We’ll get it later,” Liz said.

  “See you at the trailhead.” I turned Arikira onto the game trail. I didn’t want to hear the gory details of what fell off the remains and if I didn’t get Tata
moving they were going to want details.

  “We’ll be five behind you,” Mac said.

  Amanda sneezed. “Nothing worse than a cold when you’re sleeping in the cold.”

  “I don’t know. A moose using the same trail as us seems worse,” I pointed ahead.

  “The snow is making them anxious to move closer to winter grounds.” Todd reined left off the game trail into the trees with Amanda and I, hoping the huge bull would keep on walking.

  Moose have terrible vision. They are never quite sure what they’re looking at it, and that is reflected in their behavior. My ability to communicate with them is limited. I’ve given up trying since my attempts have resulted in them charging instead of conversing. They are large beautiful animals but ridiculously unpredictable. I’d rather meet a grizzly on the trail.

  “Bulls scare the bejeezus out of me,” Todd said.

  “Marmots scare you,” Amanda said.

  “Yeah, but I can take them in a fight.”

  “I’d like to see you wrestle one. His sharp little teeth and shrill scream will have you down for the count in under ten-seconds,” Amanda wiped her nose on her coat sleeve.

  “Not a chance. I’d grab the annoying rodent by the tail and throw him in the lake.”

  “Move out. That was delightfully anti-climactic.” I reined Arikira back onto the trail. I hoped the rest of the trip continued like the easy encounter with the moose.

  Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. After meeting at Thorofare trailhead, we decided to ride the main road until it disappeared into the bay. From my binocular view yesterday it appeared we could ride the narrow strip where the bay and land met. This would save us hours of riding up and over the caldera rim and back down to the bay on the north side. I was wrong.

  The water was deeper than expected and the fragile ground with her steam vents-that normally I could ride around blindfolded-had changed to marsh and quicksand. That’s what I get for thinking something might be normal. I knew better. One point I was correct about was Bull’s crew had packed up and abandoned the lake. Their washer/dryer size ROV was gone, along with any trace they’d been here.

  We backtracked before someone was hurt, or Deli dumped the ROV and took off for home. Mac made the decision to spend the rest of the day searching the accessible area at the edge of the bay. The horses were unhappy with his decision. There was little grass for them to munch on, and I’d secured all of them on short reins since the ground proved unpredictable.