by Linda Mackay
“I hate these damn things.” Frank stood up. “Set up those tents and someone calm the horses. Todd finish dinner fast before that thunderhead lands on top of us.”
Chores quickly executed we sat down to eat the best spaghetti dinner I’d ever had. There wasn’t an Italian restaurant anywhere that could’ve made it better. As delicious as it was we ate fast and cleaned up faster. We all reeked of a yummy meal and our wet dusters and other clothes were put in packs that Frank and Mac hung in the trees. It wasn’t an ideal site to hang the packs, but would work unless a black bear was really adventurous in the middle of a storm. While griz can climb trees, this storm would dampen their enthusiasm to work that hard.
It had certainly cured me of wanting to do anything but zip up in my sleeping bag and read the one book I brought with me. My book was bubblegum for the brain. I’d bet Todd was reading a slasher-in-the-woods story out loud to Dad.
“I forgot a book,” Amanda said.
“Want me to read out loud?”
“God no! I’d have to kill myself after two pages of John and Marsha’s perfect life.”
“It’s not that bad. They’ve had a terrible misunderstanding.”
“Don’t misunderstand me, I’d rather listen again to Todd read about that bear jumping on a tent and eating the two dudes inside.” Amanda pulled the sleeping bag over her head. “Man, I didn’t sleep well the next two weeks we spent on the Bechler Plateau after that one.”
Lightning lit the wall of the tent. “Doesn’t matter how many thunderstorms I’ve camped through, it never gets any easier to relax.”
Amanda peeked out of her bag. “That’s really why I’m under here, not the thought of being eaten by a bear.”
“I figured as much.” I pulled my bag over my head. “Hopefully, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Did you bring the whiskey?” Amanda asked.
“We’re down to one flask and I couldn’t find it.”
“Damn that Frank!”
I scrunched down in my bag, adjusted my headlamp and started to read. After a few minutes I realized John and Marsha were really annoying.
Chapter 23
I could hear the crackle of a campfire. Someone else was unable to sleep and had relit the fire, or Yogi Bear and Booboo were having a midnight pic-a-nic. I put my boots on, and a flannel shirt over my long underwear top and bottoms. My sleeping bag wrapped around my shoulders, I unzipped the tent and stepped out into the night air. The rain had stopped; leaving behind mud underfoot that was quickly developing a layer of ice on it.
“Join me.” Mac said stirring the fire. The whiskey flask rested on the ground next to him.
“We knew you and Frank had confiscated it.”
“Better us, than the whiskey chicks.”
He passed me the bottle and I took a small sip. It warmed all the way down my throat. “Kinda surprised it isn’t snowing.”
“Short time ago the air had the warmth of summer blowing through. Just like someone turned off a light switch, it changed to a cold, biting, winter wind.”
“Just another normal night in the mountains.”
“I’m not sure this year round hot-to-cold is my thing.” Mac stirred the fire with a long stick.
“It takes some getting use too.” I pulled the sleeping bag tighter around me. “I don’t think I could live where the humidity and heat baked me.”
We sat for a long time silently watching the fire and listening to the night sounds. Elk or moose were moving along the banks of the seasonal stream. Their heavy footfalls crunched on the freezing ground sounding like humans approaching. When we first began our trip I remember Mac flinching and looking around at the night noises. In a week he managed to learn how to separate natural sound from human sound, a feat many experienced hikers never learn.
I looked up from the fire and realized how at ease I was around him. There were very few people I was relaxed around. Todd and Amanda left me exhausted when we returned home from the field. Even Dad’s restless nature was stressful and I would seek refuge in my cabin for several days to recharge. Only Frank and Gramps didn’t deplete my reserves.
Grampa Nus told me it was because my mind was too open to everything around me. Shaman must learn to lock out the emotions of others or it would deplete the shaman’s life force. Gramps swore that was why he meditated so much. Personally, I think he just likes goofing off. My mom hadn’t been around long enough to teach me the Blackfoot ways of our family. Gramps tried, but was considered borderline nuts on more levels than just his Shaman abilities. He wasn’t as borderline as he pretended; I think he walked away from the family lineage as a means of self-preservation.
“Time isn’t linear.” Mac said breaking into my thinking.
“What brought that up?”
“You’re thinking about your mom.”
“No, I was thinking about Grampa Nus. And what does my mom have to do with time not being linear?”
“Everything.”
“Obtuse drives me nuts, so can it spy boy.”
“It’s how I think your mom and others were successful at remote viewing.”
“Meaning?” I still wasn’t following his thought process.
“Most people refer to her ability as being psychic. And while that’s a reasonably accurate definition, I’m a little more scientific and believe some people’s brains function at a higher level than most of us.”
“That’s not a news flash.”
“Quantum physicists have done a lot of research on time, and concluded it isn’t linear.”
“I’m aware of their findings, but not sure why you think that explains how my mom’s brain worked.”
“If we accept time isn’t linear, then it’s possible for some people to access a point, for lack of a better term, in a different time zone.”
“You believe what she saw has already happened?”
“Yes and no. I believe it was like you’re watching a movie on one channel, while on the other channel another show is playing.”
“Still would need to be physic to see what was happening on the other channel.”
“No, you just need two TV’s.”
This was getting interesting. “Well, chop my legs off and call me shorty.” Nothing like reverting to bad cowboy clichés. “I think my mom would agree with you.”
Mac moved closer to me, took my sleeping bag and wrapped it around us both. “One thing I know is, humans use only a tiny portion of their brains. To discredit capabilities in the brain that would allow you to be psychic or to understand what animals are thinking would be as dumb as thinking we’re the only living creatures in the Universe.”
“You believe in aliens?”
“Hell yes! There’s no way humans are the smartest life form in the Universe.”
“Are you saying we’re stupid?”
“Completely.” Mac’s deep laugh was like pouring hot chocolate syrup over a banana split: rich and irresistible.
“How do you explain the wrong and useless information that came out of the Stargate Project?”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
“To simple.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. The Stargate Project and its psychics had been ridiculed for decades.
“Physicists spend their entire careers researching one or two specific things. Detectives make numerous wrong turns before solving a case, and many cases go unsolved. I’ve sat in a hut in Afghanistan and swore I saw one thing, while a Sergeant next to me swore he saw something different.” Mac pulled me in closer to him. “I believe our brains do the best they can with our gifts. However, being a genius or being psychic doesn’t mean you don’t make mistakes.”
“Don’t tell my dad that.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The temperature continued to drop as the clouds gave way to a star filled sky lit like millions of Christmas lights. The fire and Mac were warm, and I was starting to get sleepy. “Do you think they’re gone?”
“Not
a chance.” Mac said without a hint of emotion. “The government doesn’t give up.”
“Do you really think it was home-grown, not foreign terrorists?”
“Not just homegrown. I think this was a conspiracy at the highest levels. Someone was so threatened by this President they felt assassination was the only answer.”
“Won’t the former Vice-President operate the same?”
“Not at all. The President was brash, argumentative, and refused to listen to advisors. He had a lot of very unpopular policies and his approval polls sucked. The Vice-President is well-liked, has great approval ratings, and has always been surrounded by excellent advisors.”
“That’s worth killing over?”
“You’d be amazed at the things people kill for. Random mental cases are a nightmare to the Secret Service, however this was well-orchestrated and well-funded so there should have been more opportunity to uncover the plan. Something went incredibly wrong with intelligence gathering. And that disturbs me.”
“That’s why you think they’re still out there?”
“I know they’re still out there.”
“So sitting around the fire has nothing to do with not being able to sleep, and everything to do with being on guard?”
Mac didn’t answer. At least for once he hadn’t disappeared; he sat still keeping me pulled in close to him.
“Wake up.” Mac jostled my head, which had somehow found its way into his lap, and helped me sit up.
“I’m not asleep.”
“Your snoring says otherwise.”
“I don’t snore.”
“Yes you do.” My head popped up like a Mexican jumping bean at the sound of Frank’s voice. “Saddle that honker up.”
Mac was unzipping tents and waking everyone else up.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Just after three,” Frank said.
I fell over on my side and put my head on the muddy grass. It was the middle of the night.
“What is wrong with you people?” Todd said stumbling out of his tent. “The Clubs just closed and my feet hurt from dancing all night.”
“I can’t see to put on my make-up.”
“Tata, your complaints are like syrup on my pancakes,” Mac said.
“What? Amanda asked.
“Huh, so confused.” Todd rubbed his eyes and pulled on his boots.
I picked my head up off the mud. “He means it runs off him. He isn’t listening. He doesn’t care.”
Frank and Mac had already helped Dad on his saddle, however my butt was still in the same spot.
“Saddle up, now!” Mac said in a soft voice that was filled with enough force to scare anyone to do his bidding.
The tents were packed up, or at least jammed into the pack. Mac took my sleeping bag and dropped my duster on my head. “I need my pants.”
“Too slow. Too bad,” Mac said. “Saddle up or you can catch up later.”
Everyone but me was riding out. “What the hell!”
“You’ve done it now.” Todd swung his leg over Stud and started down the trail, with Amanda right behind him.
“Wait!” Why was I last? Tata were always last. Yet they both sat their horses without complaint. I could see Amanda’s long underwear bottoms between her duster and her boots. She wasn’t anymore dressed than I was. It was so dark I could no longer see Todd, let alone figure out if he had pants on. Terrific, if the bad guys shoot us, I’ll be found dead in my underwear.
I swung my left leg over Arikira, and she moved out fast to catch up with the rest. Even my horse was speedier than me this morning. Or was it still night? I want a hot shower. I want my pants. I want a freaking cup of coffee.
Moving forward, I fell asleep twice and woke with a jerk of my head. The third time I fell off Arikira and hit the ground with a spread eagle thud and numerous uses of the ‘F’ word.
“We either stop and make her some coffee or tie her to the horse,” Todd said.
“I’m stopping whether the rest of you do or not.” Amanda reined Blue in. “This is bullhockey.”
“Okay, we stop long enough to make coffee and that’s it,” Mac said.
“Asshole.”
“What was that?” Mac looked at me.
“A-S-S-H-O-L-E.” My voice rose with each letter.
“Coffee it is.” Mac dismounted Chimayo and left her to graze.
Todd set up the small camp stove and heated water. Amanda and I dug through the mess in the packs and found our jeans. The day had awakened to a cloudless, windless blue. Mac surveyed the sky while I adjusted my duster, which was still damp from yesterday’s rain. Had it not been for the blue sky my mood would’ve been as dark as Mac’s expression. “What’s the problem, Special Forces, don’t like blue skies?”
“As a matter of fact, not one little bit. It means the weather is perfect for flying a helicopter.”
I hadn’t thought of that.
“They don’t know where we are and this area is an easy place to hide.” Todd said handing me the first cup of coffee. The smell alone was orgasmic.
“Todd, how many horseback groups with six people and seven horses do you think are in this area?” Mac asked.
“I don’t want to play trivia right now.”
“I do.” Mac said. “I say one.”
“Gotta agree,” Frank said.
Dad hobbled from behind a tree where he’d been conducting his morning business. “Science says this morning is the first they can get a plane up. First, they’ll search Enos Lake area. By the time they discover they’ve been duped we need to be out of here.”
“I’ve decided to drop Joe at Turpin Meadows,” Mac said.
Dad started to object. Mac held up his hand. “Hear me out. We’re not going to Blackrock. By now they may have listed our group as public enemy number one. The ranger would report us before we dismounted. We ride to the ranch as fast as the horses are capable.”
Frank took his mug of coffee and mounted Junior. “Let’s go, Todd.”
“I didn’t get a cup of coffee.” Todd said turning off the stove and bungee tying it on the outside of the pack.
“If you drink coffee, we’ll have to stop in ten for you take a crap.” Amanda said from the back of Blue.
“The body needs to be regular.”
The sound of a chopper came from the distance. “That didn’t take long,” Dad said. “Mac and Amanda move out with me. The rest of you give us 10 minutes, and then ride slowly. I have an idea.”
Frank looked at me. “What’s that old fart up to?”
“I haven’t got a clue.” The three took off moving faster than was safe for Dad to travel with his injured foot. The helicopter noise grew louder, then faded, then louder again. It was flying a grid looking for us.
Chapter 24
Ten excruciating minutes later we gradually made our way down the trail. There was more open meadow than trees and being this exposed was freaking me out. Riding Arikira my bow was of no use against an armed person in a helicopter. We were all carrying our hunting rifles and the safeties were off.
I couldn’t focus on the danger ahead. My brain kept telling me this wasn’t real. It had no repetition of action to center on and act without thought. The only repetitive learning my brain had was how to make coffee in the dark and how to squat and pee in the backcountry without getting it all over my boots. I wasn’t holding out hope that either skill would be of any use if the shooting started.
I also couldn’t think of a single wilderness trick that would save our butts from a fancy government helicopter. The noise of the rotors was getting closer and we were moving cautiously between tree groupings and meadows. I could see another grove of trees ahead. I could also see the helicopter. If it continued to fly a grid we were momentarily safe.
We entered the trees and I sucked in a deep breath. The trail moved closer to the Buffalo Fork River and her rushing water interfered with my ability to hear how close the helicopter was. However, it wasn’t bothering F
rank or Todd as I watched their heads tilt upward and to the west.
We were nearing the bend in the river where it would be closest to the trail. A large meadow spread before us and my heart started pounding in my ears almost obliterating my ability to hear at all. I didn’t need to hear. The helicopter was just to our west and I was trying to calculate the distance, wind, and trajectory my bullets would take. I wasn’t a great hunter and therefore only average at calculating aim. We’d also been trained never to fire a gun in the air, which is exactly what we’re about to do. Because of that, my fear of authority made me think the park rangers were also on my ass and going to slap me silly.
While I was busy thinking about useless crap the helicopter made a direct turn toward the three of us as we entered the meadow.
“Hold up. Let’s not get to far from cover.” Frank yelled back at Todd and I.
I heard Todd let lose a scream as the helicopter jerked to the right. Next to me Frank jumped off Junior’s back. I couldn’t hear if he’d told us to follow, but I dropped the reins, swung my leg over the saddle and as I dismounted swatted Arikira’s butt and told her to head for the trees.
The other two horses followed her. Todd was unfortunately still sitting in the saddle on his horse. “Son of a thermophile,” Todd yelled jumping off Stud as he fought to rein her in and jump off without getting hurt. He hit the ground and she ran for the trees with the other horses.
The helicopter swerved back and forth, and then I saw the flash of light reflecting off the side of the helicopter. I tried to follow it to its source as automatic gunfire pierced my hearing. Someone in the chopper was firing at the ground, but it wasn’t firing in our direction.
I saw the flash of light hit the helicopter and heard two rifle shots. Someone was returning fire from the ground. The chopper banked in a circle, and I saw two light reflections coming from the edge of the meadow. A rifle fired several more times as the helicopter flew lower trying to locate the source. It was banking to low to the east and heading straight for the river and at our location.
