How many scabs does it take to wallpaper a room?
Just two, but you have to slice them very thin.

What’s the difference between a dead scab on the highway and a dead snake on the highway?
The snake has skid-marks in front of it.

You might be a scab if:

You crossed a picket line to do a crappy talk-show.

You’re a college dropout, failed pro golfer, no-talent bum. (Okay, this one isn’t that funny. Perfect for you, Carson.)

Anybody got any more?

BH

Just because we’re pretending that our ancestors got along famously with Native Americans is no reason to go around killing turkeys. And the REAL lesson of Thanksgiving is that if you’re invited to dinner by a bunch of buckle-wearing goof-balls, bring your own food. I mean the Pilgrims got kicked out of Holland fer cryin’ out loud. Who gets kicked out of Holland?

So in the interest of harmony between vegetarians and carnivores, and in the spirit of cooperation mythologized in the Thanksgiving story, I offer my recipe for Tofu Turducken.

Okay okay, I know what you’re thinking. Why even bring up the subject? Forgetting the unfortunate name, isn’t Turducken a chicken stuffed inside a duck stuffed inside a turkey? Isn’t this a virtual massacre, just one step removed from blatant taxidermy?

Uh huh, but nobody likes to feel deprived, especially not vegetarians.

Ingredients:

First off, you’re going to need tofu, A LOT of tofu. Like all the tofu in your local grocery store and maybe your whole town, depending where you live.

Take about a quarter of your tofu and sculpt it into the shape of a chicken, not a “walking-around” chicken but a “frozen-to-the-bone” chicken like the ones in the meat-freezer. When you’re happy with the shape, toss the sculpture into a bucket of chicken broth (whoops, “vegetable broth with artificial chicken flavor”) and let it sit for 24 hours.

Next, sculpt a slightly larger hunk of tofu into the shape of a duck. Dribble duck-sauce (again, not the real thing) over this monstrosity and let it sit the rest of the day.

Hollow out a section of the chicken sculpture and stuff with the vegetarian stuffing of your choice. (Sorry, that’s another recipe.)

Dig out the duck and stuff the chicken tofu thing in there. (You like it, I know you do, uh huh uh huh.)

Combine all that hollowed-out tofu with the rest of your tofu and form it into one huge, badass turkey. Hollow that out, stuff your duck-cum-chicken in there and you’re good as gold. Spray some turkey flavoring all over that thing and then place it on a regular roof-shingle, available at any building supply store. If a roof-shingle is not available, any piece of eighth-inch plywood is acceptable. Have a fire-extinguisher handy and check that your home-owners/renters insurance is paid up.

Season to taste.

Carefully place your tofu turkey into an oven pre-heated to 350 degrees. (Whoops, probably should have mentioned that earlier.) After 30-40 minutes, remove the tofu turducken, toss it in the trash and eat the shingle!

Happy holidays.

BH

The investigation of the mill fire continued at a slow pace. The incendiary device was found. A professional job, the lab boys said, and none of the parts could be traced to anything Scott had bought in town. That was good enough for Steadman.

Beck and Johannsen went on to other assignments. There were rumors in town about what had happened at the cabin that morning, but the participants didn’t talk about it much. They didn’t understand–that was enough. It was a mystery and all who’d seen it wanted it to stay that way.

Scott went back to his projects. He considered he’d been given a new life and recorded every moment of it in his mind. He would tell Yula when he saw her. A new urgency directed his existence. Every breath, every move, would be for Yula. When others talked of the coming generations, Scott would see Yula’s face, crisp and clean in the morning. A sadness there, but also a nobility. Mankind wasn’t so bad, after all. The planet had to be saved, not for some vague notion of the children and the children’s children, but for Yula…and yes, for Xavier and even Tenner. They’re the ones.

There was no turning back. The war had to be fought on every front. Values had to be changed. The coin of Nature would have to be revalued and the coin of Money devalued. Rugged individualism would have to be altered in favor of community outlook and common purpose.

Individual comfort would have to be reevaluated as well. There was more, perhaps not an all-knowing, all-loving God, but something.

Scott sighed. He was back to the beginning. It all comes back to the beginning, doesn’t it? Man himself and the nature of the beast.

The names, he told himself. Must learn the names of the trees. Before they’re gone.

THE END.

copyright 2007 Brenda H all rights reserved

Steadman gathered the men in front of the sheriff’s office. There were four more to find now. Beck and Johannsen had called in on their walkie-talkie. They were cold, hungry, lost and wanted coffee but they were all right at their mountain campsite. Steadman didn’t know about the other two: Gault and the girl. It hadn’t been cold enough to kill them, Steadman guessed, but Steadman knew Gault was unpredictable and if he wasn’t able to make a fire, Gault and the girl might be in trouble. As the men stomped their feet and sipped coffee from styrofoam cups and stared down at the map on the pavement, Steadman cursed himself for his stupidity at launching the whole operation.

Rain fell softly. It was a warm, tropical wetness that you could smell as well as feel. Scott looked to the east, where the sun began to show over the horizon. He and Yula had made love again, and fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

“Yula!” he whispered intensely. “Look!”

A great arc stood in the distance, spanning the distance between mountains. Red on top, violet on the bottom, yellow, green and blue in the middle.

Yula gasped at the sight.

“Oh, Scott!” she cried, the tears rolling down her cheeks. Scott and Yula stood slowly, afraid if they moved too fast the rainbow would disappear. He placed an arm around her shoulder and they stood that way, staring at the vision for a long, long time.

Xavier filled the generator with gas from the can. There’d be enough for one test and the actual event. It has to work. Xavier connected the leads from the generator to the device.

Gault slipped into the woods, leaving Kerry sleeping soundly on the ground. They’d talked through most of the night, arguing mostly, and Gault wondered if he’d had enough sleep to do what he had to do. Kerry had been unreasonable, wanting to talk about their relationship, as if that mattered at all. I’m facing prison, Gault had wanted to scream. If I don’t kill Scott Felton.

“Look!” Yula shouted.

Scott ran up and looked in the direction she pointed, over the ridge, in the direction of the cabin. A great boom of thunder nearly knocked them down. Then came flashes, horizontal flashes. Lightning high in the morning sky.

“He’s done it!” Scott screamed over the deafening thunder that followed.

That must be what Scott was talking about, Steadman said to himself in the front of the patrol car, heading up Ontario Road. And you didn’t believe him, even after you saw the pictures.

“What the hell’s that?!” Harvey Leonard exclaimed from the seat next to Steadman.

Tenner woke with a start. He had realized in the middle of the night he wasn’t going to make it back; his stomach wouldn’t let him. Now he was fully awake, on his feet, the shotgun in his hand, with the realization he had a half-hour of hard hiking ahead of him.

Yula and Scott ran, retracing their steps from the night before, desperate to get back to the cabin, forgetting to care who saw or heard them. But despite their speed, they knew they were hurtling toward their inevitable separation.

Gault saw the flashes in the distance and knew they were his salvation. They’ll be blamed for the bomb. You had nothing to do with it.

Kerry woke at the blast and instantly knew Gault was responsible. Downhill, she told herself. Go back to town, back to Berkeley, forget him. But the trail he took was so evident from his rushed exit, she had to follow it.

“It works!” Xavier screamed. “It works!” He jumped up and down, danced and screamed victory.

Yula stopped. Xavier? Scott caught up to her. His chest heaved with pain from the running, his brain pounded in his ears. But over it all, he heard it too. Xavier!

“He’s happy!” Scott screamed. “He’s happy!”

She was in his arms and they were whirling out of control.

Steadman heard the screaming too, as he stepped out of the patrol car. Where’s it coming from? The cabin?

“Let’s go!” Steadman shouted and the others followed him up the trail.

Xavier started to cough. Not now. Just a minute longer. They’ll come and we’ll be gone.

Branches whipped Kerry’s face. She thought she heard Gault running ahead of her but she couldn’t be sure. As long as you’re moving away from the sun. Make it back to the road anyway.

Yula and Scott charged out of the forest. Xavier stared at them as they ran to the cabin. His joy was replaced by worry.

“Where’s Tenner?” he asked.

“He ran off,” Yula managed to get out.

“He decoyed the others,” Scott added.

“It’s ready,” Xavier said, pointing to the machine.

Yula caught Xavier’s next thought: we’ll go without him.

“We have to wait!” Yula protested.

“I don’t know if it’ll work!” Xavier shouted back.

Sweat rolled down his forehead. Is it fear or the fever? Maybe both.

“Then we have to wait!” Yula insisted. “It may be his only chance.”

“They’ll be here soon,” Scott said gloomily.

Xavier stared at Yula. You don’t even love him anymore, he accused in his mind.

“We can’t leave him here!” Yula shouted.

Xavier sighed.

“Stand there, woman!” he ordered, pointing to a spot next to the device. Yula shook her head. “We’ll wait until the last moment, but then we have to go,” Xavier insisted.

Yula swallowed hard. She looked at Scott.

“Do as he says,” Scott almost choked.

Yula whimpered and moved next to the machine. Scott went to her.

“Get away,” Xavier ordered but Scott ignored him.

He looked into Yula’s eyes. They kissed. Xavier started to cough.

Scott backed away. Xavier knelt next to Yula, his hands on the switch of the gizmo.

There were birds in the air, a little breeze, even a few drops of rain. The three of them looked at each other, waiting for separation.

“We’ll wait for Tenner,” Xavier repeated, his fingers itching to pull the switch.

Steadman could see the cabin through the trees. He checked to be sure his shotgun was loaded. He couldn’t see anyone, but the trees were thick there.

Gault spotted the cabin. He grinned. Gunfight and when it’s over, you’ll be a hero. They won’t look further.

Tenner stumbled and fell. You’re so close. To home. The future. Tenner felt his stomach contracting again, but he wouldn’t let it. He swallowed hard and made it to his feet.

Kerry saw the cabin ahead. She knew the way from there. You’re going to make it. And never get involved in something like this again.

There he is, a stationary target. Perfect. Gault raised the rifle.

Yula heard something, or sensed it, from the east. She squinted into the sun. Tenner!

“No! Stay here!” Xavier screamed.

But she was already running to the tall man at the edge of the woods.

Who is she? Don’t kill her. Get Scott Felton. Gault Scott turn to him. Right between the eyes. Scared little rabbit.

Yula stopped. Not Tenner. Someone else. With a rifle.

“Stop!” she screamed.

Tenner reached the edge of the woods. He could see the cabin ahead and Yula between him and the building. She’s shouting at you. No, not you. Over there. Tenner turned.

Gault stood, his rifle at his shoulder.

There was a long moment as Tenner registered the import of the image. Fighting his stomach, Tenner moved one leg ahead of the other, until he was galloping, screaming, but the man with the rifle didn’t move.

“Don’t shoot!” Tenner screamed, leaping onto Gault. The rifle spat flame in the air. Tenner’s fist smashed into Gault’s jaw. Gault cried out in pain and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

Scott marched forward. He would be brave now. He would fight if he had to.

Kerry emerged from the forest to see Gault and Tenner flailing their fists at each other. The rifle was on the ground, inches away from Gault’s grasping fingers. Kerry rushed forward, stepped on his hand and picked up the rifle. Heavier than you thought. She aimed it at the two fighters.

“Stop! Right now!” Kerry ordered. But the two didn’t stop. Just like men–kill each other for no reason. “Stop, I said!”

Yula came up and grabbed Tenner’s foot.

“Come on!” she yelled and pulled him from the fray. “We’re ready!”

Tenner stumbled away from Gault. Gault would pursue, but Kerry circled around, the rifle aimed at his stomach.

“Let them go!” she ordered.

Scott wrapped his arm around Tenner’s waist and Yula pulled his arm over her shoulder. They ran that way, back to the machine. Scott stood Tenner next to it. Yula held him up.

“Let’s go,” Tenner mumbled. “Please.”

“As soon as he’s out of the way,” Xavier replied, referring to Scott.

Scott started to release Tenner, then changed his mind.

Steadman and his men came out of the trail into the clearing.

“Let me go with you,” Scott said suddenly to Yula. The words surprised Scott as much as they did Yula. “I want to go with you.”

“To the future?”

“Yes! To the future!”

It was the answer to everything, Scott suddenly realized. The grin on Scott’s face spread from one ear to the other.

Yula shook her head. She spoke slowly, earnestly, with kindness.

“You won’t like it. All the things you love, including love itself–they are all gone. You’re better off here, doing what you can to make sure the future won’t be that way. It’s not inevitable.”

Scott saw the truth in her eyes. Trust her. She’s doing it for you. She loves you. Do what she says.

“Stay where you are!” Steadman ordered, his shotgun aimed at all three. “Hands in the air!” Do it! Please! “Or we’ll have to shoot!”

Scott released Tenner, and backed away from them all. Xavier’s hand hovered over the switch on the device.

“Not yet,” Yula whimpered.

Steadman’s men prepared to fire.

“I’ll come back,” Yula whispered to Scott.

“No, you won’t,” Scott choked. “You’ll go back further, to when you can get better samples.”

Yula’s eyes told Scott he was right.

“You have a job to do,” Scott went on. “And so do I.”

Tears glistened at the corner of Yula’s eyes. When one tear escaped, Scott’s finger reached for Yula’s cheek. He touched the single drop and placed it on the red of her lower lip. Yula’s tongue emerged and tasted the salty wetness. Scott backed away.

Xavier hit the switch.

Scott didn’t realize immediately what was happening. Tenner’s face contorted, his limbs contracted and released with the electricity surging through. Xavier screamed the scream of the damned and it seemed to Scott that every bone of Yula’s body showed through the flesh.

Scott waited for them to disappear. No one had mentioned the pain associated with the procedure. Scott marveled at their dedication, to undergo this pain. Beyond childbirth, it occurred to Scott.

“Shut it off!” Xavier screamed.

“Please!” Tenner shouted.

“Scott…” Yula called, the sound barely hissing through her contorted lips.

Only then did Scott realize something was terribly wrong. He leaped for the generator.

“Freeze!” deputy Jack Steadman shouted.

Scott whirled, facing the crowd at the edge of the clearing, their guns pointed at Scott’s face. Scott turned back.

The sparks flew off the electrodes of the generator. Scott smelled the smoky, choking smell of burning flesh.

Scott watched them go. It was quick, less than a second, but the process burned into Scott’s mind like a decade of grief. The electricity surged through Yula’s body, touching every molecule, every cell, sending it forward to a frightening, certain future. She told him he’d hate it there and Scott believed her. But watching her disappear like that, it was all Scott could do to hold himself back from leaping forward, grabbing her, holding tight. His molecules would mingle with hers to be re-formed two hundred years ahead. You would be together, wouldn’t you? In the instance of her disappearance, Scott felt once again the pain of loss, repeated over and over through a lifetime. Alone again, as in death, Scott told himself when she was gone.

Steadman lowered his weapon. Scott was telling the truth the whole time. They are from somewhere else. Someplace in the future.

“Holy damn,” Harvey Leonard hissed. The other men backed away.

Kerry stood next to Gault. They’d seen it all and understood nothing. Gault was no longer worried about the mill, or himself, or the chance he would go to prison. He’d seen something beyond that. What was it?

“Are those people…dead?” Kerry asked.

“I don’t know,” Gault admitted for once in his life. “I don’t know.”

Scott moved to the place where they’d been. Six small craters marked where their feet had been. A larger one signified the spot of the gizmo. Heavy wires, burned at the end, stretched back to the still-chugging generator. Scott wiped his eyes, looked to the lawmen, walked to the generator and switched it off.

Beck and Johannsen wandered into the clearing. They stared at the statues standing there: Gault and Kelly, Steadman and his men, Scott alone. Beck looked to Johannsen. Johannsen shrugged.

(NEXT - The final chapter)

copyright 2007 Brenda H all rights reserved

A breeze blew under the cabin, but Xavier was fortified by alcohol against the chill. Sleep, Xavier. You have a long journey ahead.

Beck was getting tired of the chase. It seemed like they’d run for miles through thick forest without seeing anyone. The walkie-talkie was no help–they didn’t know the names of the landmarks Steadman used to describe his position. And when Johannsen started to look worried, Beck realized they were hopelessly lost.

Steadman gathered the men in a little clearing.

"We’ve lost them," Steadman told them. It wasn’t clear, even in Steadman’s mind, who they’d lost. Was it Gault, or the girl chasing him, or the man who’d shot the shotgun in the first place? The plan was dead, Steadman knew, and without a plan, he was lost.

"We’ll continue east to Route 17, then walk back to town."

Even the dogs, tongues hanging in exhaustion, nodded assent.

"Then we’ll come back in the daylight," Steadman said.

Gault finally stopped. Kerry caught up with him.

"What are you doing?!" she screamed.

Gault’s eyes caught the moonlight.

He’s crazy. Stark, raving mad.

"I’m trying to catch them!" Gault shouted with the urgency of death.

"Why?" Kerry asked, as calmly as she could make it, aware of the rifle in Gault’s hands.

"They burned down the mill," he told her.

If Gault wasn’t so scary, Kerry would have laughed.

"You wanted it shut down," she said.

Gault didn’t reply. Should tell her, he thought. Should give her the whole damn story. Shock her. That would be fun. Little Miss Perfect.

Kerry sat on a rock away from Gault. She looked up at the stars. Which is the north one? She didn’t know. We’re lost.

Tenner knew exactly where he was. All his planning had paid off. He’d constructed a labyrinth of pathways through the seemingly endless, markerless forest. That ought to show them who’s a muscle-brained Neanderthal! There was no need to fire the shotgun again. He was sure his pursuers had given up. Now there was only the task of circling back to the cabin. Xavier will have it finished. We’ll be home for breakfast. Thinking of food was a mistake. Do it slow, he warned himself. Remember your stomach.

Lou Berenson fired his rifle twice into the air. It was getting cold and he didn’t want to stay out in the woods all night. He’d kept his eye on the cabin but there’d been no activity. Lou wondered if putting him there wasn’t a ploy by his father and the other adults to keep him out of trouble. He’d heard gunfire, he was scared. He would wait a half-hour, then go back to the road.

Xavier stared out through wood slats at the teenager. Why doesn’t he go home? He’ll freeze out there. Xavier considered inviting the boy to join him under the cabin. He’d give him some of the cough medicine. It had made Xavier warm, maybe it would do the same for the boy. Xavier couldn’t stand to think Lou would stay there all night on his account.

Yula and Scott lay on their backs watching the stars. There was no reason to move–their pursuers were busy chasing Tenner. Returning to the cabin was folly. Scott cursed Tenner silently for not telling them the rest of his plan. They’d escaped into the woods, but they’d brought no blankets or sleeping bags. He didn’t expect us to be out all night.

Scott considered crossing the ridge–that’s certainly what Tenner had intended. But what’s on the other side? A road? A car? Scott wouldn’t put it past Tenner.

Yula sneezed and Scott was again aware of her beside him. They both knew this might be their last night together.

Xavier crawled back to the backpack and rested his head. The boy had walked down the path. Xavier hoped he’d get home okay.

Lou Berenson got into the pickup. He fished a key from his pocket, a gift from his sixteenth birthday. Lou started the truck. He wouldn’t wait any longer. People had died of exposure on warmer nights than this. Lou guided the pickup back into town.

Yula and Scott’s lips met. There would be no ban against kissing this night. Scott stroked Yula’s cheek and she held the back of Scott’s neck, pressing his lips into hers. Despite the cold, they undressed each other completely and made love on soft pine needles, slowly, effortlessly, each feeling the heat of the other’s body, each wishing they could be connected this way forever.

Tenner walked carefully through the woods. He saw his markings on the trees–the southern route. His pride was gone, replaced by loneliness. She’s cold. She never could stand cold. Should have brought sleeping bags. Didn’t plan well enough. Scott will take care of her. He loves her after all. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, for Yula to be loved? The pain of undesired martyrdom struck Tenner in the stomach. He detoured from the path, knelt by a thick tree and wretched violently. A thin stream of vomit flowed down the incline. Oh God, don’t let me die here!

Beck and Johannsen sat in front of a small fire. They’d surprised themselves by being able to build it from only six matches Johannsen had with him. It’s not so bad, Beck thought. People spend thousands of dollars to camp in the forest.

The men on the road listened. They heard the sound of a car horn before they saw the lights. They cheered at the face of Lou Berenson in the cab.

"Climb in," Lou grinned. The men jumped in the back. Harry Berenson sat next to his son and proudly ruffled the boy’s hair. Steadman squeezed in next to the door.

Scott and Yula stomped the ground and slapped their arms against their sides to keep warm. Fully-dressed now, invigorated by the cold of the night and the heat of their love, they danced a celebration to life and their part in it.

copyright 2007 Brenda H all rights reserved

[tags]Brenda H, novel, thriller, sci-fi, environmental, environment, sex, sexy, girls, ecology[/tags]

Gault tried to remember the day at the laundromat. He had suspected Beck and he had been right about it, but now that the truth was known, the reality made his hands shake and his knees weak. Thoughts of prison ran through Gault’s mind. Was there someone in the mill? Will they find a body? Should you have called and warned the night-watchman? Was there one?

Kerry felt uneasy at the way Gault swung his rifle. The sheriff and two others were ahead of them. One false step and the gun could go off.

"Armstrong," Kerry whispered. Gault jumped.

"What?" his voice quivered.

The rifle pointed at Kerry’s hip. She carefully pushed the weapon aside.

"Be careful with that," she told him.

Gault tried a smile at Kerry and a "thank-you." Careful to keep the weapon pointed at the ground, Gault marched forward to keep up with the others. Kerry followed.

The rifle is the answer, Gault thought to himself. They think these others did it. When the shooting starts, Gault decided, I’ll make sure I hit Felton. They’ll be so busy proving he did it after he’s dead, they’ll never suspect you.

"Come on," Steadman called from the front to Kerry and Gault. "Don’t lag behind. People get lost in these woods."

Tenner didn’t look like he knew where he was. Scott and Yula stared at his sweaty face, hoping they were wrong.

"I know, I know," Tenner hissed. "It’s right around here."

Scott and Yula shot each other a look. Tenner struck out up the hill, where there was no trail. Scott and Yula followed.

The noise seemed deafening to Scott. Every footfall crunched leaves, every shrub rustled against their clothes. Scott realized how ridiculous it was, but he considered taking off his shoes.

If we can just make it over the ridge. Scott thought he heard the distant sound of cars and pickup trucks. Then Scott saw their lights through the trees.

"Look!" Scott whispered.

They stopped. Yula gasped for breath, Tenner clutched his stomach. Pairs of lights switched off, about a mile away. Distant doors slammed. Are those voices?

"We gotta run," Scott whispered to Yula. He pointed up the hill to the top of the ridge. She looked at Tenner, thinking the same thing as Scott. They would never make it. Tenner collapsed to the ground, confirming their suspicions. He looked white, even in the dim moonlight. He’ll be the first to die, Scott decided.

Scott knelt next to Tenner.

"You stay here," Scott said to him.

"No!" Tenner shot back.

"Quiet!" Yula ordered.

"It’s our only chance," Scott hissed. "Yula and I will run over the ridge. With any luck they’ll follow us and you’ll be safe. When you’re sure, go back to the cabin. Help Xavier with the machine. It’s our only chance."

Tenner looked at Yula. Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. Yula thought she saw the reflection of the moon there. He was losing her–not just for now–and he knew it. Scott was afraid Tenner was going to scream. Yula put her hand to his cheek in a gesture of farewell. Tenner shook her hand away and looked at Scott. Tenner nodded. Scott stood. He considered the shotgun in his hand. He handed it to Tenner.

"Here," Scott said. He grabbed Yula’s hand before he had a chance to change his mind. They ran, up the steep hill, dodging trees and bushes.

Scott heard their pursuers coming along the top of the ridge from the west. There were still trees up there, for awhile, before the mountain would go bald from the cut. The trees would slow the trackers down some. Yula’s strong legs kept up with Scott’s. His ached terribly. Wonder if hers do too. Don’t push her. What have we done? Burned the mill. That’s what they think. They’ll shoot first and ask questions later. Scott wished he hadn’t given Tenner the shotgun.

Xavier crept along the ground under the cabin. There was a small opening on the west side. Xavier peeked through. Lou Berenson was all the way at the edge of the forest, watching the cabin. He’d see Xavier’s flashlight if he switched it on. Xavier crawled back to the gizmo. He’d just have to work in the dark.

Xavier rolled off a thin wire from a small roll. He measured and clipped off six inches with his wire-cutters. He scraped off the blue insulation from the two ends of the wire and placed the strand inside the machine next to the burnt-out one. Deciding it would fit, Xavier pulled the other wire out. Without electricity to run a soldering iron, Xavier was forced to use the little gas-jet device Scott had bought at the electronics store. As small as it was, it was still too big.

Xavier turned his back to the west to hide the tiny flame. Xavier started to cough. He crawled to the backpack, the one he was supposed to take with him when he went with the others. He fumbled with the straps and got it open. Xavier pulled out a bottle of water and drank. The cough subsided. Is there more water in the cabin? Xavier didn’t remember. This is impossible. Xavier checked the pack again. Two more bottles of cough syrup. He hoped it would be enough. A wave of fear made Xavier shudder. What if they don’t come back?

Xavier felt tired. And something else. What is it? Something he hadn’t felt since graduate school. Drunk. I’m drunk, Xavier giggled to himself, then threw his hand over his mouth. Xavier laid down on the hard dirt. He pulled the backpack under his head and stared up at the underside of the cabin. He soon caught himself dreaming of home, something he hadn’t done in years. It wasn’t his current home, in the future, but his childhood home, also in the future but not so far. Xavier chuckled at the irony of it–he was closer to being a child now.

Tenner moved east, parallel to the ridge, about a quarter mile from the top. The brush was thick and it was slow-going. He already felt lonely without Yula. He’d spent almost three years with her, non-stop, almost twenty-four hours a day. And now she’d abandoned him. His animal instincts told him to fight for her. The way they used to. The way they did in this time, so far as he knew. But how can you? She loved Scott–it was all over her face.

They won’t make it over the ridge, Tenner knew. But he had another plan he was certain would work.

Steadman moved slowly up the hill. Even from the distance he had seen the lights of the vehicles on the ridge. Just make it a hike, Steadman told himself. Don’t move too fast. Steadman hated having Gault behind him with that rifle of his. But the plan was working. The fugitives were in front of him, moving up the hill to the ridge, where the others would arrest them.

Kerry wondered why they were moving so slowly. She wondered if Steadman really wanted to catch Scott. She knew Gault did. He searched the black forest with nervous eyes, looking for a target. He looks so ridiculous. Suddenly, Kerry wondered if she would turn out like Leigh, hating men for every little stupid thing they did.

Beck and Johannsen took turns looking through the infrared telescope. Beck had to admit it was delightful toy. They spotted Lou Berenson in the woods guarding the cabin and snickered at the idea the young man could be of any use. It occurred to the FBI men that the older man Scott had called Xavier might still be in the cabin. Even in a structure as simple as that there could be crawlspaces, loose floorboards, secret compartments. Beck and Johannsen had absolutely no faith a thorough search had been made.

Gault took in deep breaths of air. The steepness of the hill had little to do with it; the adrenaline coursing through his veins would propel him up Everest. He longed for the release of gunfire. It would make it all right. It would make him safe.

Scott led Yula carefully up toward the ridge. There were trees here, old trees, that had been there a thousand years. It didn’t make Scott feel any better that hundreds of generations had lived and died since they were saplings. He would be just one more dead man, not noticed or recorded by Nature’s indifference.

Yula stared at the motion of Scott’s backpack ahead of her. She no longer listened to Scott’s thoughts; it was difficult enough to hear her own. Suddenly, the catalog of complaints she’d had against Tenner had disappeared and she tried to remember why she didn’t love him anymore. A sneeze worked its way to the back of her nose and threatened to burst out. Yula stumbled to the ground and put one finger under her nostrils like she’d seen in an old movie.

"What’s the matter?" Scott whispered, coming back to her.

Yula’s mouth opened. She inhaled, trying to bypass her nose.

"Relax," Scott ordered. "Relax."

They waited, two adults in the dark, for a sneeze to come and reveal their location. This is so silly. Don’t laugh, Scott. This is serious business.

Yula started giggling. She tried to hold it back but it all burst out, a spitting blast of laughter.

Scott’s eyes frantically darted left and right, searching the darkness for the enemies of laughter.

Xavier took a long swig of cough syrup. He’d held responsibility for so long, the alcoholic liquid felt like freedom rolling down his throat. It would make him dream, he felt, something he hadn’t done in years. It would help him forget the misery of his own existence and the effort necessary to maintain that existence. Forget the contraption, he told himself, we’re dead anyway.

Tenner knew he’d made it to the right place. He took a couple of deep breaths and held his stomach. It felt okay. He’d be able to run. Tenner raised the shotgun and aimed it at the top of a high tree some hundred yards off. He squeezed the trigger. It seemed like he waited forever for the blast. When it came, the tree branches shook with the shot, and the night came alive.

"There! Down there!" the men on the ridge shouted.

Beck stood to his full height and looked to the east. Johannsen grabbed Beck’s coat and pulled Beck to the ground.

"Get down!" Johannsen screamed. His service revolver was already in his hand.

Steadman tried to work his walkie-talkie but he got no answer. The men on the ridge were already moving down the slope, though they weren’t certain in which direction they should go.

Tenner pointed the shotgun to another tree. He pulled the trigger and this blast seemed even louder than the last.

The men on the ridge saw the flash and started running.

Scott pulled Yula behind a group of trees and they sat there, watching the ridge men charge down the hill.

"Damn him," Yula hissed. "I should have known."

She loves him. She still does.

"Damn him," Scott repeated. He’s being a hero. That isn’t fair. We’re supposed to draw the fire.

Still, Scott was relieved at the sight of the lumbermen passing them by. He and Yula were safe. There was a whole world out there where they could be safe.

Gault charged through the trees, his rifle blasting a path ahead of him.

Kerry ran after, screaming, but Gault’s ears wouldn’t admit the sound.

"Stop! Both of you! Cease fire!" Steadman yelled at a run.

Beck and Johannsen made their way across the ridge. They were parallel with the gunfire, heading east.

"Damn!" Beck screamed, his weapon aimed down the mountain.

This wasn’t the way The Bureau did things–shootouts in the hills. Not since Bonnie and Clyde anyway.

Hot tears streamed down Kerry’s face, but her legs were strong. She would stay an even distance with Gault, even if she didn’t catch him. Steadman and the others were behind her, but losing ground. Go back to the road, go back to town, go back to San Francisco, she told herself. You’re too young for any of this.

Gault saw he was losing ground. The man was getting away and what was just as bad, the sheriff and his men were keeping up. Get a lead. Shoot him. Self-defense. Out of their sight.

copyright 2007 Brenda H all rights reserved

[tags]Brenda H, sci-fi, novel, thriller, ecology, environment[/tags]

“Mr. Felton!” Steadman called.

Scott turned into the wilderness. He, Yula and Tenner
continued west.

Xavier sat stock-still under the cabin, his legs crossed,
his mind focused on every sound.

Outside, Steadman also listened. They could be hiding,
waiting in ambush. No, Scott isn’t dangerous, not in that
sense. The others–Steadman wasn’t sure. The deputy
sheriff unbuckled his revolver and placed his hand on the
handle. He’d never used the gun in all his years in law
enforcement and hoped he wouldn’t have to now.

A little trickle of cough came up Xavier’s esophagus and
lodged in the back of his throat. He shivered and tried to
control himself. Mind over matter, he ordered himself. You will not cough. The paper bag with the cough medicine was almost in reach.

There’s something here, Steadman thought to himself. You
can feel it.

“Mr. Felton!” Steadman called again and the impact of the
sound almost made Xavier cough. Xavier heard heavy
workshoes on the wood steps of the cabin.

Steadman knocked on the door.

“Mr. Felton, it’s me–Sheriff Steadman.”

It was all a charade, Steadman suddenly realized. Scott
would have heard the car. He can see the road from here.
Steadman turned and looked back down the mountain. The
patrol car was parked right behind Scott’s Jeep. Steadman
looked further down the road. They were well-hidden, the
other men, behind a grove of trees, around a bend in the
road, but still visible to someone looking. Steadman turned back to the cabin door.

He knows I’m here, Xavier realized, catching a thought from thin air. But he doesn’t know where.

Steadman knocked on the door again. When there was no
answer, he reached for the doorknob. No warrant, Steadman
said to himself. It’s a remote area and a man living
alone. The law has to be sure there isn’t someone hurt
inside. Steadman released the knob. Another bomb. Could
be wired to the door. Steadman stepped back, remember the
heat from the sawmill fire. He walked to the window.

Xavier realized he’d been holding his breath. He
released it slowly, silently, hoping the cough wouldn’t come with it.

Steadman cupped his hands against the window and peeked
in. The place looked empty, but Steadman knew not to trust
to his eyes only. He craned his neck to look at the other
side of the door. Nothing unusual. No bomb, but then what
would it look like and could you see it from this angle?

Xavier’s fingers inched to the bag that held the cough
medicine. The paper bag will make a horrible noise. The
lawman will charge in, guns blazing.

Steadman decided to chance it. But tell the others
first. If you blow up, at least they’ll know how it
happened. He pulled out his walkie-talkie and clicked it
on.

“Don’t speak,” Steadman said into the device. “I’m going
into the cabin now.”

At the bottom of the hill, newly-deputized Harvey Leonard
heard the walkie-talkie click off. He leaned against his
pickup truck and looked at the other five men with him, also deputized for the occasion. They had dogs, six of them, restlessly awaiting the hunt they seemed to know was
coming. Okay Steadman, Leonard thought, do it alone.
Leonard looked over at the other two.

Kerry shivered in the cold. She wore her white stocking
cap. Gault stood next to her. Leonard shook his head. The unlikeliest posse members he’d ever seen. Kerry stuck her hands in her pocket, uncomfortable under Leonard’s gaze. She felt her room key. You walked back to the motel before. You can do it again.

Up at the cabin, Steadman placed his hand back on the
doorknob. Turn it slowly. Slower than you’ve ever turned a doorknob. If there’s a bomb attached, maybe you’ll hear the click in time to dive for your life. The knob turned with a merciful silence.

Xavier heard the door open.

“Mr. Felton?” Steadman called into the cabin. No
response. Steadman stepped inside. The place was empty.
Scott was gone. He must have planned it, to clear out so
quickly. Steadman stepped back out onto the porch.

“Harvey?” Steadman said into the walkie-talkie.

“Right here.”

“Bring the men up.”

“Roger. We’re coming.”

“And bring the dogs.”

“Roger.”

Deputy Harvey Leonard and his men locked the doors of
their pickups and started up the road.

Xavier left his hand near the paper bag. He wouldn’t
cough now–the feeling had passed.

“We’ll head for that ridge,” Tenner whispered back to
Scott and Yula as they ran through the dark. Scott looked
up the mountain. Are they there? The FBI men? Right now?
“We’ll try and get over it before they get here. They’ll
want to surround us, so getting away quickly is important.”

Scott nodded agreement. Tenner had brought them this
far.

“We made it past the first step,” Tenner went on. “The
sheriff’s plan, to make a quick arrest before we knew what was happening.”

They kept running, Tenner in the lead with Yula right
behind and Scott taking up the rear. Scott noticed Tenner
knew exactly the way to go. Small marks had been placed on
the trees at eye-level. That’s what he was doing! Yula had the same thought. But what if Steadman sees the marks too? Suddenly, the marks no longer appeared. Tenner had switched to some other system. He’s smart–don’t underestimate him. Yula pointed and Scott saw the little twigs along the ground, broken in two, pointing toward the road. The road!

“Stop,” Scott hissed.

“What’s wrong?” Yula said, turning. Scott saw the fear
on her face.

“Nothing. Only we don’t want to reach the road,” Scott
said.

Tenner nodded and grinned. Yula and Scott crept up
beside Tenner, who pointed through the trees. The black
asphalt of the road could be clearly seen.

“We’ll turn north, parallel to the road,” Tenner said,
signaling that direction. The three of them turned and
headed up the mountain.

Yula felt the pride swelling in Tenner’s chest. She’d
been right to bring him along. Even though this wasn’t the
real reason. They continued, slowing their pace slightly up the steep incline.

Steadman waited. It was all working now as he planned.
Then why do you have this uneasy feeling? Because someone
else is here, that’s why. But where? Steadman again put
his hand to his pistol, holstered the walkie-talkie and
stepped off the porch. He walked away from the cabin a good fifteen yards, then angled to the corner. He peered around the edge. Nothing. Two more corners to go. Steadman stepped even further from the cabin. If they’re going to ambush you, make sure they have to be damn good shots.

When he’d made it completely around the cabin without
finding anyone, Steadman’s hand moved away from his
revolver.
“What’s wrong?” Leonard asked Steadman when Leonard and
his men reached the cabin.

Steadman, standing like a statue, hissed “Quiet!”

They stood that way for a long moment, Steadman
practically sniffing the air, the others staring at him.
The dogs were restless, but they smelled nothing. Leonard
sighed. He’d always thought Steadman too eccentric to be a
sheriff.

Xavier’s fingers reached for the paper bag. The movement
made the tickle at his throat all the stronger. Xavier’s
fingers touched brown paper.

“Nobody’s in here!” Gault called, stepping out of the
cabin.

Steadman almost screamed at the man. Of course there’s
nobody in there, he almost shouted. I already looked,
didn’t I? The feeling Steadman had, whatever it was, was
lost now.

Now, Xavier told himself and seized the bag, the noise
covered by boots on the wood steps of the cabin. Xavier
drank quickly, almost half the bottle.

Steadman clicked on his walkie-talkie.

“Come in Bravo,” he said.

“Real slick,” he heard Beck call back.

At the top of the ridge, FBI agents Beck and Johannsen
sat on the ground, an infrared telescope between them,
sticking through a bush.

“Where are you?” Steadman asked.

“At the the top of the ridge,” Beck said back. “Watching
you stumble around in the dark.”

Gault canted his head. Even through the static of the
walkie-talkie, he thought he could discern the owner of the
voice.

Kerry held her hand over her mouth in shock. It was
Raymond Beck, she was certain.

“Where’d they go?” Steadman asked.

“West,” Beck told him.

“That way?” Steadman asked and pointed.

Johannsen put his eye to the telescope. Steadman stood
like a scarecrow, one arm pointed to the woods. Johannsen
laughed and nodded to Beck.

“That’s right,” Beck said into his walkie-talkie.

“All of them?” Steadman asked.

“The girl, Felton and one other man.”

“Young or old?”

“Young.”

Steadman shook his head. It wasn’t what he wanted to
hear. Where’s the older man, the one they called Xavier?

“No sign of the old guy,” Beck said into the
walkie-talkie, answering Steadman’s question.

“Okay,” Steadman sighed. “We’ll keep the channel open.”

Steadman turned to the men around him.

“Let’s go,” he told them. “Slow.”

They walked from the cabin to the edge of the woods.

Steadman stopped and looked back at the cabin. He spoke to
the FBI men on the ridge.

“Keep watching, in case he comes back,” Steadman said.

Beck and Johannsen rolled their eyes. Of course they’d
watch–that’s what they were there for, besides swatting
flies and mosquitoes.

Steadman looked at the men at his disposal. He picked
Harry Berenson’s son, Lou, a halfback on the football team.

“You stay here,” he said to the young man.

Lou Berenson nodded.

“If you see the older man, just keep an eye on him,”
Steadman said. “If you need help, fire your rifle twice.”

Once again Lou nodded. Steadman hated giving this
responsibility to the young man, but he needed the rest of
them. Steadman wished he had more walkie-talkies. They
were using every one Hafton had to offer.

Harry Berenson patted his son on the shoulder, told him
“Don’t shoot anybody” and headed into the woods. The others followed.

The trail was easy to follow. The three fugitives had
made no effort to disguise their steps and in a few minutes
Steadman noticed little notches in the trees to guide the
way.

“Don’t count on those,” Steadman warned his men. “Could
be a trick.”

Steadman knew it was a trick. Scott was too smart for
this.

Tenner held his stomach in pain. They were reaching the
steepest part of their path and Scott worried Tenner
wouldn’t make it.

“Tenner,” Scott called ahead to him. “Let’s rest.”

Tenner fell to the ground. He hasn’t eaten. Yula sat
next to him and opened her backpack.

“No,” Tenner told her. “I can’t eat anything.”

Yula left the pack open.

“Water then,” she said.

Tenner shook his head.

Stubborn bastard. Got to be macho to the end.

“My stomach won’t take it,” Tenner said bitterly to
Scott. “Who the hell are you to tell me?”

“Easy, Tenner,” Yula warned. She knew him. He had a
longer fuse than anyone suspected, but at the end of it was
an atomic bomb.

Scott knew better than to say anything. He tried not to
think anything either. He listened to the distant sound of
dogs yapping on a trail.

“Slow down,” Steadman ordered. It isn’t going right.
We’re moving too quickly. Our job is to get them to the
road, that’s all. “Stop,” Steadman said. The dogs strained against the leashes.

Steadman opened his map and pulled out a flashlight. He
traced a line from the cabin to the road. The fugitives had never reached the road. They could go north, where the trees were clear-cut, but the FBI would spot them. Are the
loggers up there yet? Will Beck and Johannsen recognize
them or just shoot them? Steadman clicked on his
walkie-talkie again.

“Bravo?” Steadman asked.

“Still here,” Beck replied.

Kerry listened closely this time. She wasn’t as sure it
was Raymond now.

“Who is that?” she asked.

“Quiet!” Steadman admonished.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Beck said sarcastically.

“Not you,” Steadman said. “Listen, you got a gang of
loggers coming up to reinforce you on the ridge there.”

“We’ll let you know when we see ‘em stumbling around in
the dark,” Beck told the deputy sheriff. “Hope they don’t
hurt themselves.”

Steadman clicked off the walkie-talkie.

“Who is that?” Kerry insisted.

Steadman looked at her face. It was clear to him Kerry
had mistaken Beck for an environmentalist. He’d been
undercover with her, Steadman could tell. Pain and anger
seared into the back of Steadman’s skull.

“I…I can’t tell you,” Steadman said. “It’s…”

Kerry turned away to hide her tears.

“It’s kind of a secret,” Steadman finished. He folded
the map viciously. “Let’s go.”

Steadman commanded himself to concentrate on the
fugitives. They could go south, but his men were closing in there. Steadman had them. Then why aren’t you sure? You’re always questioning. Have some confidence. Steadman
clicked on the walkie-talkie again.

“Come in, Charlie,” Steadman said into the walkie-talkie.

“Right here, Jack,” came the answer from Charlie Bennett,
stationed with eleven others across the road.

“Any sign?” Steadman asked.

“Nope, not yet.”

“Okay.”

Steadman clicked off the walkie-talkie. They should have
made it to the road by now. Something isn’t right. The
older man should be with them. It should all be over by
now. Steadman marched over to a tree. He fingered the
little, eye-level notch someone had made in the bark.

The dogs yelped, anxious to continue down the path.

Steadman looked at the ground and followed the
footprints. The night was moist and the steps were easily
deciphered.

Tenner staggered to a cluster of rocks and fished around
under one of them. He pulled out three bottles of water.
He handed one to Yula and one to Scott. They drank. Scott
kept his eyes on Tenner.

Isn’t going to make it.

“That’s all right with you isn’t it!?” Tenner snapped
angrily. “That way you get her!”

Tenner stood. He’s going to kill you now.

“Stop it, Tenner!” Yula shouted.

“Shut up, woman!” Tenner shot back.

Yula stood and faced him. Tenner looked as if he was
going to hit her.

“Someone might say go ahead,” Yula hissed. “One could
mention that would be perfect, wouldn’t it?”

Tenner’s jaw quivered. He’s going to cry.

“Am not,” Tenner said to Scott. Tenner turned and tried
to hide the hand that grabbed his stomach. “Let’s go,” he
groaned.

copyright 2007 Brenda H all rights reserved

The environmentalists seemed capable of burning it down too. Would they actually do it? Sure, what with the dioxins in the river and Lord knows what else.

Steadman knew it would all come out. The truth. But would it be in time? They could wait for the fire marshal to make an assessment of the cause. They could question the obvious suspects and follow the leads. But Steadman knew deep in his brain who was really behind the fire. He’d been blinded by his hatred for the FBI. They told you who it was: Scott Felton and his friends–Yula, Tenner and Xavier, building a bomb practically in front of your eyes. And now you don’t even have their names.

They’d be long-gone, maybe even now. He’d liked Scott and hated to think this of him, but here it was. You’ve been wrong about people before, Steadman admitted to himself. Standing there, lit by the glow of the massive fire, heated by the flames, Steadman felt profoundly stupid, alone, old and tired. He wished desperately that Susan was waiting at home, he wanted to throw the football around with Jim. Will you ever do that again? Steadman wondered.

"Ranson!" Steadman called to the executive. "Could I talk to you a minute?"

Maybe it was the smoke or maybe it was the emotion of seeing a large part of his life-long business burn to the ground, but Steadman thought he detected a tear in the corner of Ranson’s eye as he turned and walked toward the lawman. Instantly, Steadman regretted everything he had thought about the man. So he kills the trees, Steadman told himself. That doesn’t make him a bad man.

To Scott’s surprise, Tenner had their escape all planned. When Scott arrived, after roaring up the road and running up the trail, Tenner had already packed what he thought they could carry easily in the four large backpacks Scott had bought earlier on Tenner’s insistence. Yula filled canteens with water.

"Help us," Tenner said to Scott, signalling him to follow outside. "We can’t take the device, but we can hide it for when we can slip back," Tenner explained as they walked around the cabin to where Xavier put his equipment and the gizmo into one large pile. Tenner poked the edge of the cabin near the ground. Weeds grew several feet along the side.

What the hell’s he doing?

Amazingly, Tenner disappeared. With a puzzled look on his face, Scott wondered if Tenner hadn’t fled off to some other time or dimension. Tenner stepped into view again and gently held back the weeds. There was an opening to a four-foot high crawlspace under the entire cabin.

"In here," Tenner ordered Scott.

Tenner amazed Scott. Scott knew he’d misjudged the boy. It was jealousy, on both their parts, that clouded their perceptions of each other. If Yula wasn’t between you, you could be friends, Scott realized.

"Good, good," Scott said sincerely as he scrambled to the device. He and Xavier moved the machine to the cabin. Tenner and Scott pushed it underneath.

Xavier peeked through the brush at the space, then crawled in.

Scott and Tenner scrambled to pick up all of Xavier’s equipment and put it in with him.

Yula dumped the four backpacks on the ground, canteens tied to each one. She signaled Scott and the two of them walked around the cabin to be sure there was was no way to see under. When they reached the opening, they pushed the tall grass aside. Xavier sat in the darkness, in the lotus position. The contraption and all the parts fit nicely. The generator could go under too. Xavier had found his new workshop.

"I’ll stay here and finish this," Xavier shouted out.

"They won’t see me."

Tenner closed his eyes, summoning the patience of the gods. Yula shivered and bit her lower lip, trying to figure out what to do.

He’s a stubborn old fool, Scott read in Yula’s mind.

Scott took charge. "You have to come with us!" he ordered into the crawl-space.

"I’m almost finished," Xavier croaked. His cough had spread, the infection now wrapped his throat in pain.

"How long?" Scott shot back, knowing the answer wouldn’t be satisfactory.

"One or two hours," Xavier squeaked.

"Really?" Scott asked in surprise. Xavier wouldn’t underestimate–it wasn’t in him.

Yula shot Scott a look of betrayal.

"That’s all," Xavier insisted.

Scott considered. No good. They’re coming now. Scott shook his head, Yula’s accusatory eyes on him.

"It won’t work," Scott said. The dismay on Xavier’s face nearly broke Scott in two. "They’re coming now. I’m sure of it."

Yula sneezed and Xavier coughed under the cabin.

Will he make it? Will any of them? The odds were enormous. Steadman would come with overwhelming force. He and his men knew the woods. And they were healthy.

Isn’t this the way it always happens? In the movies? When the aliens come to warn the planet of impending danger, when they have a plan to save the Earth? And the ignorant Earthlings shoot the little beasties right out of their shiny silver boots because they look funny?

"We aren’t dead yet," Yula told Scott, aware of his eyes on her. "And we don’t look funny."

"Just go," Xavier said. "I’ll be all right here. I’m almost done."

Scott looked at Yula. She held up her hand to tell Scott she’d take care of it. She crawled under the cabin. How will she convince him? He doesn’t love her like you do. Or does he? How could anyone not love her?

Scott wandered away and looked down the mountain. He could see the front fender of the sheriff’s patrol car but that was all. How long had it been? Too long. Any second. We have to go. Now. Scott felt the presence of Tenner beside him. For once, Scott was the nervous one and Tenner the picture of calm.

"We have another three minutes," Tenner assured Scott.

Scott nodded and swallowed. He’d never been alone with the young man and now Scott felt uncomfortable. Scott would have to rely on him out in the woods and he hardly knew him. But the young man had calculated–probably to the second–how long it would take to march up from the road. He’s probably counting off the seconds now.

There was a rustling behind the two men. Yula emerged alone from the tall grass covering the underside of the cabin.

"One should say we should go," she said, picking up one of the backpacks.

"But what about Xavier–" Scott started to protest.

"Come on," Tenner said gently, handing Scott his backpack and throwing Xavier’s through the opening under the cabin.

Scott could see it was no use. Xavier would stay.

"Just a minute," Scott said and ran back into the cabin.

He grabbed the shotgun from behind the door. Should give it to Xavier.

"He can’t use it," Yula told Scott when she saw the indecision on his face. "Probably wouldn’t anyway."

Scott nodded. Still, it might help. Yula and Tenner were already headed for the woods. Scott scrambled to catch up.

"This is his project," Yula explained when they took their first step into the brush. "We are under his orders."

Kerry shuddered to think Gault was involved. She rode in Gault’s car with him in the direction of the flames. She couldn’t help wondering if he hadn’t done it, with the help of the mysterious Max. And where is Raymond? She wished she was with him instead.

They could feel the heat from the flames long before they arrived. The volunteer fire department did its best but it wasn’t good enough. There was a water pressure problem and the big trucks from Gunniston would take an hour to drive up the mountain. There was nothing to do but control the blaze so it wouldn’t become a forest fire.

Steadman assembled a posse in front of the blazing pulp mill. But like every plan in Steadman’s life, it wasn’t shaping up the way he’d envisioned. He looked over to where Gault and his gang stood.

"We want to help," Gault said.

Kerry almost laughed.

Steadman considered calling the whole thing off. He didn’t know enough. This Gault character was certainly a suspect. And so was Ranson.

"Okay," Steadman said, to the consternation of some of the loggers. "You two." Steadman pointed at Gault and Kerry. Kerry touched her heart in a question. She almost shook her head to refuse. Go ahead, she told herself. You came for the adventure, didn’t you?

"Wait a minute, deputy," Big Woody Kellogg spoke up. "We don’t know these creeps weren’t involved in this."

"I know they weren’t," Steadman said. He didn’t want to have to explain it all. It involved Scott Felton and aliens and other nonsense. The FBI boys–where were they?

"They’ll come with me," Steadman told Kellogg. "You go this way."

Steadman spread the map on the pavement. He pointed to the road and drew a line past Scott’s cabin to where the road veered off away from the ridge. "There’s no road there, so–"

"We know," Kellogg interrupted. There was nothing about the forest the loggers didn’t know.

"You’re looking for three men and a woman," Steadman told them. "She’s young and good-looking. One of the men is tall and young. The other’s about thirty-five and the third one’s sixty."

"Ranson," Steadman went on, "you and your men park here. Leave one man with the cars. You have walkie-talkies?" Two were produced. "Good. Leave one with the cars. The rest of you fan out over the ridge. You can spot any activity down by the cabin. If they got past, you can spot them on the other side."

The mill workers took off for their pickups. They were angry, ready to explode at the unfairness of it. They were angry at the environmentalists, the lumber companies, the Japanese and the Canadians. And they were angry as hell at the federal government. Steadman watched them roar off. Would they blow up the mill? Destroy their own livelihood? Out of spite…maybe.

Steadman turned his attention to the environmentalists. Amazingly, Gault was pulling a rifle from the back of his car.

Oh God, Kerry thought. He’s going to kill somebody. That would be just like him.

"Where’s Max?" Kerry asked him bitingly.

Gault’s look made Kerry shiver. He’s going to kill me.

Steadman drove the patrol car. Gault sat in the passenger’s seat, Kerry was in the back. Steadman glanced in the rear-view mirror. A line of six cars followed. Steadman didn’t want it this way. He prayed no one would die. It was possible, this many in the woods at night, but he wouldn’t have Scott and his friends getting away. Not if they bombed the mill. Where was the FBI when he needed it?

copyright 2007 Brenda H all rights reserved.

[tags]Brenda H, sci-fi, ecology, environment, thriller, suspense[/tags]

It might work, even if Scott saw it coming. Don’t
underestimate him, Steadman told himself. Still, Steadman
didn’t see what Scott could do about it. Unless he wants to use his shotgun.

Steadman sighed and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t
know why he was doing this. Because they have a bomb up
there, he told himself. That’s what the FBI says. Where
are they anyway? Steadman hadn’t seen them in three days.
Maybe they’re tapping a phone, or on surveillance. Down at
the motel, most likely. Steadman picked up his hat, put it
on and walked out the door.

He strolled down the street, pretending nothing was
wrong, greeting his friends and fellow townspeople along the way. Steadman felt old. He’d lived here all his life and was getting tired of it. He knew everybody. It had once been a nice feeling, now he felt stifled. Steadman turned into the motel parking lot. There they were, at the end of the lot, partially hidden by a tree, in their dark green unmarked car.

“What’s he doing?” Beck asked, looking at Steadman
standing at the end of the drive.

“I think he’s stretching,” Johannsen laughed.

Steadman raised his arms in a physical yawn, then used
his left one to adjust his hat. His right hand came down
and pointed in the direction of his office. As casually as
he could make it, Steadman turned and headed back.

Beck and Johannsen broke up in laughter. Finally, Beck
started the car. They passed Steadman and gave him a honk.

Steadman showed the FBI men the map.

“It looks fine,” Johannsen said. “But what do we do when
we get them?”

“Hopefully, we’ll find that bomb,” Steadman replied.

Beck and Johannsen looked at each other. They walked to
the other end of the office to discuss it among themselves.
With a flash of regret, Steadman thought maybe he shouldn’t
have included the FBI men. But why go out on a limb alone?
Steadman glanced back at the two men. Their little
conference was breaking up.

The two FBI men and Steadman went outside. All three
stood on the curb looking at nothing in particular.
Steadman shifted from one foot to the other, regretting it,
knowing it made him look nervous. What are they waiting
for? Dramatic pause.

“Okay,” Beck finally said. “We’ll do it. Your plan.
When the time comes.”

Scott waited until late in the day. Xavier always added
things to the list anyway. Scott didn’t want to drive to
town too many times. There was always the chance Steadman
or the FBI would arrest him, and Scott didn’t know what
would happen to his friends from the future then. It
occurred to Scott more than once that Xavier sent Scott to
town to get him out of the way.

Scott considered going back into Gunniston for the things
on Xavier’s list, but in the end he decided to return to the electronics store in Hafton before it closed. He knew the store and it would be quicker.

Kerry Inglesol stepped out from a group of protesters
when she saw Scott’s Jeep enter town. She waved and Scott
slowed.

The last thing you need. Public conference in the middle
of the street.

“I need to talk to you,” Kerry said urgently.

She’s scared. Even more scared than you. Scott was
aware of the other protesters staring. He looked in his
rear-view mirror, expecting to see Johannsen and Beck, but
they weren’t there.

“Okay,” Scott agreed. “Where can we go?”

“The motel?”

Scott swallowed and nodded.

“Get in,” he said.

Kerry climbed into the passenger’s seat. The protesters
talked among themselves. Despite the coolness of the coming fall, Scott felt a trickle of sweat crawl down behind his ear to his neck.

Johannsen and Beck drank late afternoon coffee in their
patrol car and looked out at the Redwood Inn parking lot
through sleepy eyes. Beck had spent most of the day handing out leaflets before using an excuse to get back to the motel. Gault was still in his room, Johannsen told him. He hadn’t left all day.

Scott’s Jeep pulled in and parked. Johannsen and Beck
suddenly looked wide awake. Johannsen grabbed his camera
and clicked off photographs of Scott and Kerry together.

“There’s something I have to ask you before I tell you
anything,” Kerry began when they were in her room.

“Go ahead.”

“Are you an FBI agent?” Kerry asked.

Scott shook his head. Kerry looked relieved.

“You’re not a policeman of any kind?” Kerry wanted to
know.

Scott shook his head no again.

“Then why were you talking with the sheriff?” Kerry
asked.

Beck considered getting out of the car and going up to
the balcony of the motel. It was risky, listening in at the door, but he could make some excuse. Beck sipped coffee and tried to think of one.

“What’s going on here?!” Kerry blurted out.

She’s nice. And she’s in over her head. Like you. If
it wasn’t for Yula…

“Are you from San Francisco?” Scott asked.

“I used to go to school in Berkeley,” Kerry replied.

“You should go back,” Scott told her. “As soon as
possible.”

“Everybody’s telling me that!” Kerry protested.

“It’s the best thing for you to do,” Scott insisted.

“Why does everyone want to get rid of me?” Kerry asked.

She’s so young. And innocent. How can you tell her?
How can you describe to her decades of experience and years
of disappointment? Scott felt like holding her, like a
daddy, the way he’d held Kathy the times she’d been reminded that life wasn’t all playgrounds and ice-cream cones. Scott thought about Yula. That’s what she feels with you, Scott suddenly realized. She knows the future and can’t communicate it. You’re a big baby and it breaks her heart to tell you the truth about it.

Scott looked at his watch. He only had a few minutes to
make it to the electronics store before it closed. He
cursed himself for waiting so long.

“I have to go,” Scott said simply. “I wish I could help
you, but I can’t. You’re right–there are things going on
here. Things I really don’t understand either.”

“I saw you shoot that man,” Kerry said.

Scott’s eyes opened wide.

“What man?” Scott tried.

“In the woods. That night. I saw you.”

Did she? What does she know about this? Be careful of
traps. The FBI wouldn’t be beyond baiting a trap with
someone like her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Scott
protested, but he could see it didn’t work. Scott sighed
and looked around the room for listening devices, though he
knew they would be invisible.

“He’s fine,” Scott whispered to Kerry. “I didn’t shoot
him.”

“I saw you.”

“I missed him.”

Kerry could tell he was lying. And Scott knew she could
tell.

“Listen,” Scott tried. “That’s all over with. I didn’t
hurt anybody and I don’t intend to. I have to go.”

Scott rushed to the door. He wouldn’t confide in her.
He had to get to the electronics store and back to the
cabin. Every time he left the cabin, something bad
happened. Yula and Tenner and Xavier was his reality now.
As long as he was in their world, he was fine. Becoming a
recluse. That was the original plan wasn’t it? You got
what you wanted. Beware of what you want–you just might
get it.

The dusk was cold, the air was thick. Scott closed
Kerry’s door behind him and considered the motel parking
lot. It was filled. Which car is theirs? Had to be big
and American. There were three that qualified. But mist
covered every windshield. Are they inside one of those
cars, headphones on, listening in? Hope not.

Freddy Weinstock kept the electronics store open after
hours to complete Scott’s list. No longer in a rush, Scott
spoke casually to Freddy, who reminded Scott of himself when he was that age. Fascinated with things electronic and mechanical, Freddy was dying to know what Scott was working on, but that secret Scott could not reveal.

Maybe you should. Young people understand this stuff.
They believe it. They’ve seen the movies.

Scott waved good-bye to Freddy as he pulled out of the
parking lot. Freddy was about Kerry’s age. The idea of
Freddy and Kerry together made Scott laugh as he drove back
down Main Street.

Scott looked for the protesters but they’d disappeared
with the sun. Scott pressed down the gas for the long climb up the road.

The flash lit up the whole mountain. It’s working!
Xavier got it working! Then, a second later an enormous
concussion shook the whole county. It was all Scott could
do to keep the jeep on the road.

The paper mill at the end of the lake was fully engulfed
in flames. That’s not Xavier’s work!

For a moment, the two FBI men thought they were dead.
The blast shook them down to the tires on their unmarked
car. When they blinked, through pink and blue dots, they
saw the motel was still intact, and so were they.

Gault came out of his room tentatively and looked out.
Others stepped out cautiously from their rooms.

“There!” Gault shouted and pointed. All eyes went to the
bright orange fireball across the lake.

“Oh, my God!” Kerry exclaimed.

“Let’s go!” Johannsen screamed, turning on the ignition,
slamming the car in gear, screeching from the parking lot.

copyright 2007 Brenda H all rights reserved

[tags]Brenda H, sci-fi, novel, thriller, ecology, environmental, environment[/tags]

The day had been a lonely one for Yula. Fearing the authorities, not wanting to attract attention in Hafton, Scott had driven all the way down to Gunniston to buy packets of food and bottles of water. Then Tenner had disappeared, most of the afternoon and part of the evening. Yula suspected he was sicker than he’d let on. She knew Tenner wouldn’t let others see him helpless.

Or he’s avoiding you, Yula told herself. He doesn’t want to talk about what we have to talk about.

Yula tried to review her feelings about the last few weeks. She’d journeyed to a different world and fallen in love with it. Or was it Scott? The sounds of the forest swelled in her mind. She’d been taught so early on to be afraid of Nature. It was frightening, dirty, messy. There were rats in the trees and spiders in the grass. Kill them–that had been their answer for a thousand years. But yet, deep inside her, Yula longed to be part of it all, to hunt for food, to stalk a mate, to bring bloody, drooling, screaming life into the world.

Yula looked at her watch. It was time to wake Tenner. She would wait a little longer. There were decisions to be made.

Will you go back if Xavier fixes the machine? The forbidden thought had inserted itself into Yula’s brain like a pesky splinter. She would have to guard her thoughts. If Xavier knew she wanted to stay, he’d be angry–so would Abcedif. They would accuse her of womanly emotionalism.

Yes, damn it, she cursed to herself–I am a woman.

Yula glanced at her watch again. Ten minutes after midnight. She couldn’t put it off any longer. It was Tenner’s turn to stand watch–he wouldn’t like her to be late. Yula considered waking Scott instead. It would be nice, to make love at night for once, under the stars, with the animal sounds of the woods cheering them on.

Yula stood. Must behave, she warned herself. Personal feelings aren’t important. You are on a mission. All else is trivial.

Stepping into the cabin, Yula felt the heat of the fire on her face. The bodies of the three men were sprawled at angles on the floor. Yula stepped to Tenner.

"Tenner," Yula whispered softly into his ear. She’d awakened him like this before, when she’d wanted to make love, in the morning.

Tenner’s eyes opened and Yula could see he’d been dreaming of the same thing.

Yula stood abruptly.

"It’s your turn to watch," she said. It sounded colder than she’d meant it.

Tenner stood and stretched. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He turned back. He wanted to talk. She owed him that much, she guessed. But the blankets on the floor looked so warm and inviting.

"Okay," Yula whispered and followed Tenner out the door.

They sat silently together on the porch. She’d had other boys before Tenner. They’d been kind to her, they’d loved her she guessed. But she’d yearned for more excitement. And then came Tenner, who smelled like a man. He was rough and she tumbled for him. It was she who’d talked Abcedif into including him in the project.

"We need a rugged person," Yula had argued. She remembered Abcedif’s smile when she’d said that.

Have you changed Tenner, or has he just grown up? Is he trying too hard to please you? Doesn’t he know it was his hard, animal ways that you liked about him? He’d wanted her right off–at the front of his thoughts–with no apologies about it. She’d said yes in her mind and he’d taken her desperately and Yula had loved him for it.

"Do you love him?" Tenner asked finally.

"Yes."

"Did you ever love me?"

"You know the answer is yes," Yula told him.

Tenner swallowed. He wouldn’t ask any more questions. Everything was so different here. When they were back in the future he would win her again. Without all the distractions, though it would never be the same.

Yula took Tenner’s hand. There was no use hiding thoughts. They were like brother and sister in that. They knew each other too well. That was part of the problem.

"I do love you," Yula said sincerely.

Tenner believed her. He wanted to make love to her, maybe for the last time, so he would remember it. So it would be special, so he could endure his pain through the coming days, months and years.

"You’ll find someone else," Yula reassured him.

"I don’t want someone else," Tenner whimpered. "I’m sorry," he added quickly, not wanting to cry, not wanting her to see him like this. He wouldn’t beg. He wouldn’t try to work on her sympathy. He wasn’t a child.

"You can’t stay here," Tenner said as calmly as he could. "You aren’t one of these people."

"I know."

"Xavier won’t allow it."

"I know," Yula repeated.

"Neither will Abcedif."

Yula nodded.

"I’m tired," she said and stood.

"Good-night," Tenner said to himself when she was safely inside the cabin. Panic shook Tenner’s body. You’ll be alone for hours, with just the black night for company. You’ll have to think, you’ll have to cry. It will be like this from now on, for the rest of your life, without her. Nausea overtook Tenner. The uncontrollable urge to throw up hit Tenner in a wave from his head to his stomach. He stood carefully, stumbled down the steps and made his way to the woods.

Is it her or the virus? Tenner wondered as the contents of his stomach hit the ground. He ached–that was enough. He wouldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t ruin it beyond repair. He would hold his anger in check. Later, he thought, when she’s back in her own world and her mind is unaffected by Scott or the viruses of this place…

Tenner fell back on the ground. He stared up at the stars and wondered if it could ever be the same with her. Is that why they did it? Tenner wondered. Is that why they chopped down the trees and put poison in the waters and dirtied the air beyond breathing? Because no one loved them? Or loved them enough? So all life seemed like hopeless garbage?

Back on the porch, Tenner reviewed his time with Yula. He surprised himself with the things he remembered–their meeting, the times they made love, certain particular things she’d said, even the arguments they’d had. It all became clear, like the night air in this time. Tears came to Tenner’s eyes and he tried to think of something else, but his thoughts always returned to Yula.

Xavier’s cough interrupted Tenner’s despair. The creak of wood, then Xavier’s footsteps. The cabin door opened and Xavier coughed his way next to Tenner.

"You can go to sleep now," Xavier told the young man.

"Are you okay?"

"It’s just a cough," Xavier told him.

"It sounds pretty bad."

Xavier nodded and held back the impulse to cough again. He swallowed hard, stifling the juices building in his bronchial passage.

"I’m not used to being sick," Xavier admitted. "How is your stomach?"

"I think it’s getting better," Tenner said as cheerfully as he could make it.

"You should sleep," Xavier told the young man.

Tenner nodded. He felt like patting Xavier on the shoulder for encouragement. Xavier had so much knowledge, about everything, from transistors to human beings. If only he would share, Tenner thought.

"Good night," Tenner said and shuffled into the cabin.

Xavier stared down at the road. He concentrated on that distant strip of reflected moonlight. His mind needed the break. The years had taught him many things, the most important of all, the use of his own mind, from which all else was derived. He’d sacrificed, of course. There was no room for so many things he’d recently started to crave. Seeing Scott and Yula together had brought some of it back. But that’s what the project is about, isn’t it? Recovering what we’ve lost. But to Xavier’s surprise, he found himself recovering regret, and love, and sorrow.

Xavier shook his head and blinked his eyes. Stay awake, Xavier. Watch for the police. Xavier’s mind inevitably drifted back to the device. He considered the options. It was Abcedif’s device really. Like Xavier, Abcedif had an aversion to sharing. Abcedif had only told Xavier what he thought Xavier had to know about the gadget. Now Xavier was paying for Abcedif’s secrecy. And so were Yula and Tenner. Well, maybe Tenner. Yula seemed happy here. She’ll ask to stay, Xavier felt. Xavier considered what he would say then.

Xavier looked at his watch. 4:30. The time had gone quickly. It was Scott’s turn to watch. The sun would be up soon. Xavier decided to wait. His cough would return if he put his head down anyway. Watch the sun come up. Over those trees. Engrave the thought in your mind. That’s what you’re here for after all, to capture this beauty for your children and grandchildren.

"You don’t have children," Xavier muttered out loud. "You don’t have grandchildren." Misery caught in Xavier’s throat. He coughed, then he cried.

"You didn’t wake me," Scott protested, coming onto the porch. It was almost 7:30.

"I couldn’t sleep anyway," Xavier told him.

Scott sat next to Xavier. There was a cup of coffee in Scott’s hand.

"I’ll watch if you want to go to work," Scott told the older man.

"Okay," Xavier said. He stood, stretching muscles and bones that had sat in the same position for hours.

"How’s the thing going?" Scott asked.

Xavier shrugged and stepped down off the porch. A moment later he’d disappeared behind the cabin.

A frightening thought crossed Scott’s mind. He’s faking it. He’s not the genius he pretends to be. He doesn’t know how to fix the device. Not really. That’s how we got into this mess–pretending we know.

That wasn’t the only reason. The greed boys, the soldiers of expedience and the captains of destruction had taken everything of value–every bit of it–while Scott and his generation screamed at the TV and tried to find a space between the cracks of commerce. Scott felt personally responsible. He’d felt himself becoming one of them, incapable of emotion, but able to fake it, acting normally, mouthing human-being sounds, while in the eyes there was nothing. Scott had found himself becoming impatient with anything but his own purposes. Comfort–the siren song of success. As someone else defined it. Scott felt sick just thinking about it.

"I have another list," Xavier said, coming from around the corner of the cabin.

"Okay," Scott sighed. "Give it to me."

copyright 2007 Brenda H all rights reserved.

[tags]Brenda H, novel, sci-fi, fiction, writing[/tags]