by David Wood
Maddock was a little surprised at that but pleased. Despite his rough edges Grizzly was a good guy with a thirst for adventure. He and Bones assured Riv that they were delighted to take part.
“I have to ask,” Maddock said, “what, exactly, is a UFO ranch?”
Grizzly laughed. “That’s a very long story.”
“No, it isn’t,” Riv said. “The original owner of the land sighted UFOs on the property.”
“That is not the whole story,” Grizzly protested.
“Exactly. It’s the important part.”
“You’d better keep her around,” Maddock said to Grizzly. “You two seem to balance each other out pretty well.”
Just then, a tall man of middle years nudged past Maddock. He wore khakis, starched and pressed, and hiking boots.
“Mister Grant. There you are,” he said.
“What can I do for you, Shipman? And I’ve told you before, you can call me Grizzly.”
Deep lines formed in Shipman’s brow. Evidently, he didn’t care for the nick-name. “I spotted a rattler sunning herself beside the path that leads to your,” he paused, cleared his throat, “your eating challenge.” He grimaced. “I tried to gently shoo it away, but it was not in the mood to be trifled with.”
“Thank you,” Grizzly said. “We’ll make sure the contestants don’t disturb it.”
Shipman gave a curt nod, then turned and stalked away.
“Who the hell was that?” Bones asked.
“That’s Bryce Shipman. He used to own this place and is having a hard time letting go.”
“What’s his deal?” Bones said. “Why is he still hanging around if you own the place?”
“We only purchased a portion of his property. He’s still our neighbor. As far as why he’s hanging around?” Riv shrugged. “It’s a television show and Grizzly is a celebrity.” Maddock could hear the air quotes in her voice. “Some people are fascinated by the entertainment industry.”
“Hoping to be discovered?” Bones joked.
“He’s an author. Probably thinks he’ll get the chance to pitch to a producer.”
Riv checked her watch. “Three minutes to welcome, Grizz.”
“Great! You guys follow me.”
A small crowd had gathered in front a small stage. Behind it, a banner read WELCOME TO THE GRIZZLY GRANT CELEBRITY ADVENTURE CHALLENGE.
Corporate logos, sponsors of the race, ran along the top and bottom.
Maddock scanned the assemblage. It was an interesting mix. Bones had been right. The racers included a couple of minor celebrities whom Maddock recognized from movies, and a few more beautiful people who might also work in entertainment. Others wore t-shirts that marked them as connected to various event sponsors, mostly nutritional supplement manufacturers and fitness centers. Grizzly clipped on a wireless microphone and mounted the stage.
“Welcome to the Grizzly Grant Survival Challenge!” He paused for the obligatory polite round of applause. “Today you will be put to the ultimate test of endurance competition.”
“If he means enduring an endless stream of hyperbole, he’s right,” mumbled the young woman to Maddock’s right. She was pale, with short, inky black hair.
She wore a pair of bright red, oversized secretary-style glasses, cargo shorts, and a t-shirt that read Keep Earth Clean. It isn’t Uranus. She didn’t look like an adventure racer, but Maddock knew appearances could deceive. In any case, she seemed to have Grizzly’s measure.
“You will face a series of obstacles and challenges that will test your strength, speed, endurance, and mental dexterity,” Grizzly went on.
“You’re in trouble, Bones,” Maddock said.
“Screw you, Maddock.”
“Our objective today is to test the course,” Grizzly said. “I have, of course, completed it myself. It was easy for me, but we need to find out how ordinary people will respond to the challenge. That’s where all of you come in.”
Ragged laughter didn’t quite mask the obscenity uttered by the woman in the red glasses.
“Sounds simple enough,” Bones said. “Can’t be worse than Hell Week.”
“What is Hell Week?” the woman next to him asked. “I’m Lilith, by the way.”
“I’m Maddock, this is Bones. Hell Week is the most grueling segment of Navy
SEAL training. We’re veterans.”
Lilith rolled her eyes. “Just what the world needs. More toxic masculinity. Just tell me you didn’t bring guns.”
“I’ve got a gun with me,” Bones began, “but not the kind you...”
“Just don’t, Bones,” Maddock said.
Grizzly now invited a local businessman named Orry Rockwell to join him on stage. From the quiet murmurs all around, Maddock assumed the man was a big deal.
Orry Rockwell was a fit-looking man in his late thirties, and he was dressed to race. He brushed back his dirty blond hair and made an embarrassed wave to the crowd as the applause died down.
“Thanks for that, but you might want to take back your applause once I lay my guilt trip on you.” He winked as the crowd laughed. “If you’ve spent much time in this area you know that, on a windy day, you don’t need a map to find the Salton Sea. Only your nose.” More laughter. “And that’s why I’m here today. For decades the Salton Sea was a thriving town and a popular tourist destination. It’s also the only remaining wetland in southern California. And it’s nearly dead.”
Maddock knew the story. Created by accident in 1905 when the Colorado River overwhelmed a series of gates and dikes designed to contain it and poured into the Salton Sink area. Engineers at the time lacked the technology to quickly address the problem, so the flooding continued for two years. It formed a pair of new rivers, submerged Native American lands, a railroad siding, and the town of Salton as it formed what is now known as the Salton Sea.
“You’re all familiar with the story. Due to its location, its lack of fresh inflow, and lack of drainage, the sea has essentially become a septic tank for agricultural runoff. The tilapia sportsmen once caught by the dozen now die off in massive numbers. Their carcasses rot on the shores in such great quantities that they foul the air all around the sea, but their numbers are so abundant that they keep reproducing, only to die in the polluted sea. Birds come here for desperately needed water, but they, too, keep dying.”
Lilith hissed a stream of curses under her breath. Maddock made out a few choice words, but most were incoherent. He agreed with the sentiment. He loved the sea and the creatures that made their home in it.
“Sonny Bono worked hard to bring the Salton Sea crisis into the public eye and to put pressure on the government to make changes, but his efforts died with him. Now it’s up to us.” Rockwell glanced down, a pained expression passing over his face. “There are a lot of people out there who think the sea should be drained and forgotten about. They say it was created by accident, that it was never meant to exist.”
“Palm Springs.” Lilith uttered the name like a curse.
“I say it doesn’t matter how it was created. It’s here. Cleaning up the Salton Sea is the right thing to do. My people are working very hard to bring attention and resources to bear on this crisis, but I need your help. I implore you to use your platforms and your connections to bring attention to our cause. And we wouldn’t say no to a donation, either.” He grinned and winked. “Thank you and enjoy the race.”
“At least he kept it short,” Bones said.
“He happens to be a brilliant man,” Lilith said.
“Smart enough not to bore us to death.”
Grizzly reminded everyone to keep themselves hydrated and assured them that staff members would be posted along the course in case participants ran into trouble. Next, he thanked his sponsors, all of whom had at least one representative taking part in the event. Next, he divided them into teams of six. The composition of Maddock and Bones’ team was a bit uneven. Jashawn Powell was a former college football player who now worked as a representative for a nutritional su
pplement company. Dakota and Spenser Saroyan were a brother- sister team, mid to late twenties, both blue eyed blondes. Dakota, the brother, was tall and slim, his sister, Spenser compact and curvy. They were clad in crisp athletic wear and expensive looking shoes, and wore top of the line GoPro cameras strapped to their heads. Everything in their wardrobes had a logo prominently displayed.
Jashawn explained that the two were influencers who, in his words, “got free stuff by threatening to trash businesses online.” He went on to say that there were plenty of legitimate influencers out there, but Dakota and Spenser were the spoiled offspring of a Hollywood power broker and one of his mistresses. For them, influencing was just a way to avoid getting real jobs. The final member of their team was Lilith, who seemed no happier about the arrangement than Bones.
“What’s up, squad?” Dakota wore a golden retriever smile as he shook hands with his new teammates. When he reached Bones, he pressed his palms together and made a slight bow. “Namaste, my brother. I’m sorry for what we did to your land.”
Bones made several attempts to reply but couldn’t seem to find the words.
Maddock and Jashawn trembled with suppressed mirth.
“You are a very large man,” Spenser said, eying Bones as if he were a freak show exhibit.
“You have no idea,” Bones said with a wink.
“Would anybody like some raw water before we start?” Dakota asked, holding up a bottle of ever so slightly green-tinted liquid.
“What the hell is that?” Bones asked.
“It’s water free of all the unnecessary crap the government does to it.”
“You mean like cleaning it and adding fluoride,” Jashawn said.
Dakota’s smile somehow grew wider. “See? He knows what I’m talking about!”
His sister let out a tired groan. “Dakota, you did just listen to the talk about the Salton Sea?”
“Yeah, but that’s not where I got this water.”
“Where did you get that?” Maddock asked.
“It’s my own label. I mean, I’m not like, officially in production yet, but I’ve got my own label.” He tapped the sticker on the bottle. The label, obviously made on an ink jet printer, read Dakota Springs. “I just scoop it out of a little stream that runs behind my house. Unadulterated, just like nature intended.”
Bones raised a finger. “Have you ever heard of a guy named Inigo Montoya?”
“I think you mean Vizzini,” Lilith corrected. “He was the one who didn’t know what the word meant.”
To Maddock’s relief, rather than bicker with the woman, Bones thought for a moment, then nodded. “Good call.”
Dakota frowned, then his eyes lit up. “The Princess Bride! I loved that movie!”
He held his bottle aloft. “Last chance. Anybody for a drink?” When no one replied, he shrugged. “Time to chug. Your loss, amigos.”
As the young man gulped the polluted water, Maddock turned to Bones.
“The over/under on time to hurl is nineteen minutes.”
Bones chuckled. “That kid? I’ll bet he doesn’t last ten.”
Chapter 3
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Bones was wrong. Dakota lasted twenty-two minutes before losing his raw water, along with the remnants of a breakfast burrito, just outside the entrance to the cave complex. This unexpected obstacle was not popular with the other race participants, who ignored his assurances that his body was merely cleansing itself. When his body decided to start cleansing itself from the other end, he decided he’d had enough. A staff member drove him back to the ranch house. “He didn’t quite make it down the post-apocalyptic highway,” Bones said to Maddock as they clambered across a pile of car tires. “Too bad. He’d have made a good warlord’s jester in the world to come.”
“Come on. That’s my brother you’re talking about,” Spenser huffed. The young woman had kept pace with them through the obstacles so far without a word of complaint, although she did have the annoying habit of occasionally talking to her “subscribers” via the GoPro. “He’s a dummy, but he’s my dummy.” “I’d trade him in for something you can take off-road. He’s not on your level.” Bones offered the girl a hand as she clambered down a pile of old tires. She declined.
“I’m okay,” she said. “I appreciate it, but I want to see how far I can make it on my own.”
“Respect,” Bones said. He eyed the girl anew. Behind the stereotypical Southern California looks lurked a resilience he hadn’t expected from the young woman.
“She’s not your type,” Maddock said as they watched Spenser vanish in a cloud of smoke that poured from a burning truck.
“What makes you think I’d be into her?”
“Fair point. She’s female and has a pulse.”
Bones frowned. “That’s not fair. I also require that a woman have an even number of legs. But she’s cool, though. Better than her brother. I think there’s some raw material there to work with.”
“Better raw material than raw water.”
Bones quirked an eyebrow. “That almost made me grin. But you keep trying.
You’ll make a funny joke someday.” He gave his friend a condescending pat on the shoulder and Maddock shoved him away.
“Let’s get moving,” Maddock said. “Lilith’s not going to make it over that wall on her own.”
“Like she’d really accept the help.”
True to form, Lilith refused assistance despite being physically unable to scale the wall in front of them.
“I’ll get it,” she said after making it two thirds of the way to the top before sliding back down the rope.
“Maybe if she had some raw water,” Jashawn mumbled.
Spenser flashed him an affronted look, then turned to Bones. “I think you should do something.”
Bones cocked his head to the side. “Why me? I’m probably the last person in this group she’d accept help from.” Lilith was prickly around everyone, but him more so than the others.
“Exactly,” Spenser said. “Sucks for you, funny for the rest of us.”
“Put it to a vote,” Jashawn said. He quickly raised his hand, followed immediately by Maddock and Spenser. “You’re it, Bones.”
“I vote no,” Bones said.
“That makes it unanimous.” Maddock smiled and inclined his head in the direction of Lilith, who was sizing up the wall for another go.
“You guys suck.”
Bones took a moment to steel himself, then sidled up to Lilith. He stood, head high, arms folded, gazing ahead, eyes slightly unfocused. Mimicking the wise Indian from a western flick was one of two ways a Native American was guaranteed to get a white person’s full attention. Sleeping with a white man’s wife was the other way, but that wasn’t an option here.
Lilith was staring at the wall with the air of a fighter who knows she’s beaten but can’t find it in herself to admit defeat.
“Here’s the deal,” he said quietly, not meeting her eye. “There’s a lot of things I know nothing about. Something I do know, from professional experience, is that obstacle courses sometimes require teamwork, and there’s nothing wrong with it.”
“I want to do it myself.”
“Look, I could make a speech but that’s not my style. All the determination in the world won’t give you the upper body strength to climb over that wall. That’s reality. You signed up for a team event, and your selfishness is holding everyone else back. So, either you let us help you or I pick your ass up and throw you over.”
Lilith rounded on him, fists clenched. Hot anger flashed in her eyes. “Selfishness?”
“And stubbornness.”
She stood like a statue for five shocked seconds, then all the tension fled from her and she let out a laugh.
“Okay, I get it. I need to be a good teammate. But for the record, if you ever pick me up without my consent, I’ll murder you in your sleep.”
Bones nodded in approval. “I’m liking you better every minute.”
The w
all traversed, they next climbed a steep hill. Their feet ground the dry earth into fine powder, their footsteps stirred it up into a cloud of dust that coated their tongues and filled their nostrils. The hill was followed by another and then another. By the time they reached the next obstacle, crossing a makeshift pond on a big, rolling log, he was ready to tank the challenged just to get a dip in the water. Fortunately, the staff had coolers on hand. The tepid water was like the nectar of the gods. Between the strenuous activity and the desert climate, it seemed impossible to keep hydrated.
Bones barely made it across the log without falling in. It was a bittersweet victory. No one else on his team managed the feat. Spenser made it almost all the way across before falling on top of Maddock, who was taking his time wading out of the pool. She managed to talk him into giving her a piggyback ride, and Bones was happy to see a genuine smile on his friend’s face. The dude had been a complete sad sack of late.
Next up was the camouflage challenge, in which contestants coated every inch of their exposed flesh in mud, which nearly proved to be Spenser’s undoing. She had put a lot of work into her look and didn’t want it ruined when they were only partway through the course.
“It’s not that I mind getting dirty, but I accepted sponsorship money from cosmetics companies and I’m not sure it’s ethical to cover it up.”
“It’s the rules,” Lilith said. “While you’re coating yourself in mud, be sure to mention that your sponsors also sell mud masks.”
Spenser apparently knew good advice when she heard it, because she dived right in, both into the mud and her narrative. As she covered her arms, legs, and face in the brown goo, she described the benefits of mud for the skin, and plugged a few of her sponsors’ products by name.
“I can’t decide if this is hot or not,” Jashawn said to Maddock and Bones.
“The mud doesn’t do it for me,” Maddock said, “but I like a girl who can think on her feet.”
