“Is that right?” Tom asked, blinking sweat from his eyes. He sported brand-new neon green polarized sunglasses courtesy of Ike’s. If this thing ever ended, he and the group owed a bunch of money.
“Barb’s bound to have told you about how I met Genevieve? About how she worked as a secretary in Hibb’s department and how…”
“A little bit, I guess. The clichéd married man leaving his wife for a younger secretary. I don’t need to hear the details.”
“Hibbs was crazy about her. Weren’t you, Hibbs?”
Hibbert answered with a nervous titter. “Oh, heavens yes. All of us were in love with Genevieve.”
“You should’ve seen those nerds drool, Cassidy. Something to see. But I took her away from all of that.”
“Let’s see what’s around this corner,” Tom said attempting to turn the conversation away from the end of Barb’s and Davidson’s marriage.
“I regret it almost every day,” Davidson continued. “Messed up for sure, Cassidy. Now you’ve got what I want.”
Tom stopped in his tracks and spun on the bigger man. “Are you and me gonna have a problem when this is finished? Fine and dandy, but for now, let’s fight through this mess and not with each other.”
“I want you to be aware of the situation. My preference is to be back with my wife and daughter. I know what I want.”
“For the here and now you do. But know this: I’ll put up a fight for her. Instead of doing this now, how about we work together?”
“The ATF agent is off,” Hibbert said. “She has burn marks like Barb and I do, but she has other symptoms we don’t have. The dry throat. She told me she can’t quench her thirst regardless of how much she drinks. Probably why her stomach hurts.”
“You have doubts about her story, Doc?” Tom cocked his hip to the side and rested the shotgun. Davidson tried to buy Emerson’s rifle and Robin’s Glock, but neither of them bit. He offered 10,000 dollars. “You notice something?”
“She doesn’t have the law enforcement vernacular. She’s far too garrulous and forthcoming, unlike most Bobbies.”
Before Tom could pursue the angle, he rounded a corner to a river. The black line he spotted turned out to be rows and rows of dead fish on the shore. Hibbert made a beeline. As Tom reached the dead fish, he expected the familiar stench. Instead, the burning metallic smell invaded his senses. The hairs on his arms stood to attention. Years of training told him they were being watched.
He slung the riot shotgun into a ready position. “Get down,” he hissed to Hibbert and Davidson.
Both of them hunkered and Davidson wailed, “I can’t believe you didn’t back me on taking the old man’s gun. Now we’re out here exposed with only a shotgun.”
“Who’s out there?” a voice called.
Hesitating for a few seconds, Tom peeked around the clump of trees as a young man in a Texas Longhorn t-shirt, jeans, and hiking boots coasted the trail. He carried a pistol on his belt but didn’t have it drawn. On his shoulder, he lugged a loaded backpack. His thinning hair on the top left a balding spot bright red with sunburn.
“Could be Robin’s partner,” Tom whispered. “Or the fugitive.”
“Maybe,” Davidson said. “I’ll see.”
“Hold on.”
But the impatient man bolted from cover and motioned to the visitor. “Hello there. Are you an ATF agent? Our group found your partner.”
“No, I’m not an agent.”
Tom leveled the shotgun at the man. “We aren’t unfriendly folks, but somebody fired at us. Would you be Smithson?”
“Nah. Fair to warn you, I’ve won me some pistol fast draw competitions.”
“Fair to warn you this pump shotgun has a scatter pattern making it impossible to miss from this distance. We’re a bit jumpy, so I’m going to keep this aimed at you. Who are you?” Tom steadied his trigger finger.
“I’m confused. I was happy to see another human until you leveled a pump shotgun at me.” The man’s accent didn’t sound like Emerson – this one sounded like an east Texas boy.
The Englishman motioned to the new guy. “You look lost, mate.”
“I’ve never been more lost in my life. I was on top of the mountain. I haven’t ever seen a valley like this. And these clouds are disorienting me. I can’t quite figure out how to get to the mountains. I can’t even see ‘em.”
“We were on a fishing boat when the storm hit,” Tom said. “It was a few days ago. We’ve not had much luck since. Are you alone?”
“I was with my brother. We got separated when an electrical storm hit. I got knocked out or something. When I came to, I couldn’t find him.”
“I’m Tom Cassidy. The English guy is Hibbert. He’s Davidson.” Tom held the shotgun but relaxed the grip.
“William Davidson, CEO of Davidson Communication. Jeremy Hibbert works for me at my company in Mobile.”
“Alabama?”
“Correct,” Davidson said. “We’re a good way from home.”
“I’d say,” the man answered. “Name’s Hunter. Where are y’all headin’?”
“A local airfield.” Tom motioned to the dusty road. The sudden breeze kicked dust into the murky sky. “If we can get a plane in the air, maybe I can find some help.”
“I already checked. They have one empty old building with nothing in it and a locked tight hangar. I didn’t see a solitary person.”
“Did you inspect the plane?” Tom asked.
“Nah, wouldn’t do me no good.”
“Say, fellow, has anyone taken a potshot at you?” Davidson asked. “We had an incident yesterday.”
“They’d be dead if they did.” Hunter touched his compact holster on his belt. “You boys mind if I tag along? I’d like to find my brother.”
Tom fingered the cold steel of his shotgun and decided to put it on his shoulder. “You don’t have another gun in your backpack, do you?”
“Nah, I don’t. I do wish I’d-a brought my huntin’ rifle though.” In a blink, Hunter drew the pistol and fired at Tom’s feet and another at a tree, inches behind Davidson’s head. “None of you boys move a twitch or I’ll take you out. I don’t know what game you’re playin’, but I am not interested in gettin’ mixed up in it. I see how you’re watchin’ my backpack and my gun.”
“Take it easy, Hunter,” Tom said.
“Drop the shotgun. Nice and easy like,” Hunter said.
“You messed this one up, Cassidy,” Davidson growled. “You should’ve blasted first and asked questions later.”
“You reckon that’s what I should do?” Hunter asked. Davidson tightened his lips and scowled. “I got me a little rope in this pack. First, I’ll have the English boy hogtie both of you and then I’ll do the same for him. Any of you make any a move on me and I’ll prove how handy I am with my Smith and Wesson 1911 .45. Any questions, boys?”
Hibbert tied Tom and Davidson too tight. Hunter smacked Hibbert in the cheek. The Englishmen fought tears. “Why’d you strike me?”
“To keep you from trying anything. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you like I said I would.”
“Listen, Hunter,” Tom said. “We were out in the Gulf doing deep sea fishing and had an accident.”
“Don’t try mind games with me. The Gulf? Not likely, Chief.” After securing Hibbert, Hunter checked all the ropes. “Somebody blasted at me with a shotgun this morning, so don’t play like it wasn’t you boys.” He arranged the shotgun in the strap on his backpack.
“You can’t leave us like this,” Davidson howled. “I’ll pay you.”
“I’m not gonna leave you. Once I get to the store, I’ll telephone the law and tell ‘em to come to get you.”
“The phones don’t work, you idiot.”
“Davidson, take it easy,” Tom said.
“Take it easy? This is on you, Cassidy. You put the shotgun down and trusted this yahoo. Now we’re going to die. It’s on you.”
“Yeah, it’s on me.” Tom turned his neck to Hunter, who backpedaled a
nd surveyed the area. “Come on now son, we’re not a danger. We didn’t shoot at you. Somebody shot at us too. We found an ATF agent who lost her partner. They were pursuing a fugitive. We believe he’s the one shooting at us. And at you.”
“How many others in your group? And, where are they?”
Davidson sniffled and scratched his nose against his shoulder. “They’re waiting for you.”
“How many of them?”
“Three,” Tom answered. “Some good old boys out fishing.”
“And this ATF agent you talked about?”
“Listen, son, we aren’t saying a whole lot more here. We’re asking you not to leave us like this.”
“Please, don’t leave us. We can’t keep battling this thing and survive.” Hibbert’s voice cracked. “You have to believe us. We didn’t shoot at you and we’re all in danger. You can’t leave us out in the open like this. What if the fire comes back?”
“Adios, boys. Like I said, I’ll give ‘em a ring when I get to the store.”
Chapter 23 – Meet Nate Campbell
Reagan
“Boy, are we glad to see you.” Jasper lumbered to the ranger and thrust his chubby hand.
Reagan studied the park ranger for several moments. He stood a stocky six-foot-three. He wore army green cargo pants and a bulky green jacket with a tan button-up shirt. His typical tan ranger’s hat rested on his head, stiff and clean. Reagan squinted at the patch on his shoulder. Inside the shield shape were two large elm trees and an eagle soaring between them. The words ‘Park Ranger’ slanted across the top of the insignia. He carried a backpack and no obvious weapons. After examining his uniform, she turned her attention to his face. She placed him in his early forties and crow’s feet lined his dark eyes.
He flashed Jasper an easy smile as they shook hands. “Glad I found you folks.”
“We were at the ranger station yesterday,” Jasper blurted. “Where have you been keeping yourself?”
“I lost communication at the station after the electrical storm. I’ve been hiking to various campsites trying to help people in need,” he said. “I’m Nate Campbell by the way.”
“What park do you work in, Nate Campbell?” Jon clutched his shotgun but didn’t point it at the ranger.
“Glacier National Park,” he said. “Would you be brandishing my gun?”
“I picked it up at the station yesterday,” Jon said. “I’ll hang on to it.”
“He’s an ATF agent,” Jasper said.
Nate Campbell waved. “You can hang on to it. I’ve never been a good shot.”
Jon scratched the stubble on his cheeks and checked to Reagan. Their shooter was either lousy or not aiming at them. Nate Campbell looked like a decent suspect.
Jasper beamed. “Well Nate, we could use some help getting out of the ditch.” He pointed a thumb at the RV.
“Got any power?” Nate Campbell asked.
Travis Wayne crossed his arms. “Battery’s fried.”
“Have you found any working vehicles?” Reagan asked.
The ranger raised his hat with his knuckle. “No. I haven’t found much working beside my flashlight and it’s iffy.” He released a low sigh. “You’re the first people I’ve come across in two days.”
“At least a dozen people were camping here when we arrived on Monday,” Jasper said. “You saying they just disappeared?”
Nate Campbell cleared his throat. “Y’all got any water? I stopped by the river but it was…”
“We saw it,” Jasper barked. He whirled to Junior. “Don’t just stand there boy, give him some water.”
The sky dimmed to the army green color Reagan associated with night. The temperature dipped, edging below freezing. She stared into the haze as moisture fell from the sky. Tiny snowflakes fluttered through the breeze.
“It’s snowing.” Annabeth channeled the reaction of every kid with the prospect of a snow day.
Reagan had a different reaction. “We need to get inside.”
Jasper consulted his new buddy. “Is snow usual this time of year?”
Nate Campbell stroked his clean-shaven face. “It’s a little unusual. But we occasionally get snow up in the mountains.”
“Not at this altitude,” Reagan corrected. “We’re too low to get more than a few snowflakes.”
“There’s a cabin about a half-mile from here,” Nate Campbell said. “We can settle in around a fire and make introductions.”
“And we can fill each other in on what we know,” Reagan added.
Nate Campbell bobbed his head. “I'm sure we all have questions.”
An icy breeze swept through the campground. The snowfall intensified and an urgency descended upon the group. Even Jasper agreed to leave the RV behind for the cabin. Reagan fell to the back of the pack and studied the ranger. Despite the personable and knowledgeable air, she sensed something off about him.
“What’s your opinion of our new friend?” Reagan asked Scotty in a hushed voice.
Scotty scooped Mickey. “Seems like a friendly guy. Didn’t see a rifle on him if that’s what you were thinking.”
“He could have it stashed at the cabin.”
“Or maybe he’s not the shooter.”
“Keep your guard up either way.”
Scotty winked. “You got it, Chief.”
“Y’all talking about the ranger?” Travis Wayne stopped in front of them.
“He looks like Vince Gill,” Kelly said.
“More like Phil Mickelson,” Granddad countered.
Scotty rubbed his eyebrow. “See I was thinking Lance Berkman.”
“Anyways,” Reagan said getting them on track. In her opinion, their new friend favored a combination of all three. “Stay on your toes. We shouldn’t be so fast to trust him.”
“Come on slowpokes,” Nate Campbell said. “The cabin I mentioned is up ahead.”
The posse rushed into the cabin eager to escape the strange flakes. After several minutes of settling, a fierce blizzard roared outside the cabin window and a fire blazed inside. The Caribou Crew lounged across the couches while the Original Five, plus Scotty, Mickey, and Jon settled on the floor. Nate Campbell hovered somewhere in the middle after a round of introductions. Reagan wrapped a wool blanket around her sister’s shoulders. The bee stings had almost vanished and Annabeth neared full recovery. But Reagan wasn’t taking any chances.
“Can I get you anything?” Reagan asked as she settled on the wood floor next to Annabeth.
“I wish you wouldn’t worry about me so much.” Annabeth scratched behind Mickey’s ear and his foot pounded the wood floor like Thumper. “We have bigger problems.”
“I’ve never seen a storm like this.” Scotty backed from the frosty window. Despite meeting the Caribou Crew first, he fit better with Original Five. “And in August no less. At home in Texas, a few inches of snow send us into a panic. And it usually occurs in January or February. We’re lucky if the temperature doesn’t reach a hundred in August.”
“This weather’s strange for us too,” Travis Wayne said.
“I imagine this green haze is effecting our atmosphere.” Kelly held in her breath. “It’s creating some kind of seal locking in the cold air. Moisture forms at the seal and falls in the form of snow.”
“Or we’re experiencing an imbalance in nature. Up is down, right is left. Everything we know is the opposite.” Granddad poked the fire.
“Seems a little farfetched,” Kelly said.
“And the things we’ve seen thus far aren’t?” Granddad asked. “I don’t know about you but giant killer bees, green haze, freak lightning storms, fried circuits, dead fish, summer turning into winter, those things don’t happen on a daily basis.”
“Don’t put words into my mouth, I didn’t say everything was hunky-dory. But I don’t buy into the opposite world theory,” Kelly argued. “There’s a scientific explanation for this. Maybe something we don’t understand. But there is an explanation.”
“Like the opposite world,�
�� Scotty offered.
Reagan glared. “Don’t encourage them.”
Jon untied his boots. “How do we stop it? Or get past it?”
Reagan gazed to the ranger. He sat on the edge of the wooden coffee table speaking to the Caribou Crew. Jasper droned on and on about his RV, restaurant, and fishing prowess since the hike started. It was high time Nate Campbell answered a few questions. “I know who we should ask.” Reagan cleared her throat as she approached. “Since we’re settled in and sheltered from the cold, why don’t you tell us your story, Nate?”
Nate Campbell’s dark eyes sparkled. “Certainly. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you folks.” He clapped. “Let me see. Well, I’ve been working at the park for the last ten years. I worked in a few zoos prior. The job was fun and challenging but I prefer working as a park ranger. There’s a solitude and connection to nature with the job. But I also get to meet wonderful people like all of you.”
Reagan didn’t want to appear rude, but this wasn’t the story she expected from Nate Campbell. “You mentioned earlier you haven’t met any people since the sky turned green, correct?”
“I'm getting there,” he said with a slight edge in his voice. He let out a chuckle and a good-ole-boy smile. “I listened to Jasper’s story, now y’all can listen to mine.”
The group laughed along with Nate Campbell. He charmed almost everyone as he told funny park ranger tales. “I can’t count the number of times I found myself lost in this very park when I first started. I’d stumble upon hikers, scared out of my mind. And of course, they turned out to be as lost as me.”
“Have you ever seen a bear?” Junior asked with wide eyes.
“Sure. But I got the best of him.” Nate Campbell held his arms wide apart. “I stood tall and made myself as big as I could. Luckily it was a baby grizzly otherwise I might not have been so brave.”
With each new story, Reagan’s patience diminished. Now wasn’t the time to sit around the campfire telling ghost stories. Her curiosity ate at her. Her need for answers grew with each weird event. To top it off, Reagan didn’t trust Nate Campbell. Something in his eyes sent a shiver along her spine. His delightful smile and joyful personality didn’t hide the vacant abyss behind his onyx eyes.
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