As usual, I thank Alaidh, the Almighty Beta, for going above and beyond the call of duty at Olympic National Park. ;)
This one is for you, hun…
I wish I could thank each and every one of you who takes the time to review but FFN doesn't have that feature. Besides, if I thank you for your 'thank you', the cycle might never end… ;)
Please consider yourselves truly appreciated. :)
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"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed
citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has."
- Willa Cather
11:35 AM
Hamma Hamma River
Max sat on a rock, hugging her knees tightly to her chest, and watched the water swirl and gurgle in the sunlight. She was hurt, angry and generally confused. I wasn't before I met him…
Which wasn't true, she had to admit. She had been angry at Manticore and a government that would support such programs. It hurt to be separated from her 'family', the only ones who could really understand her. Except for a few people, like Kendra and Original Cindy, she had been a loner. Even they didn't know who she really was and of what she was capable. She couldn't trust the world at large, not with all the corruption, and anyone promising the truth was a fraud. There was no truth. She had looked out for one person: Max Guevara. Somewhere along the line, that had changed, she had changed. It was all his fault.
That was only part of her confusion.
Why won't he let me help? Max threw a stone into the water, not trying to skip it or hit a particular target. It made a quiet plop and the ripples creased the surface. Not like it'll embarrass him or anything. No one would've seen me give him a massage and besides, they probably think we do other stuff in the Aztek that would be more embarrassing.
She closed her eyes.
They were on the air mattress, Logan beneath her, his large, beautiful hands stroking her back as the kissed. They pulled apart enough to gaze into each other's eyes. His were so green and bright it was almost unearthly. This must be what love looks like, Max decided. Logan smiled. Outside the Aztek it was night, with the sounds of the river and the frogs being their only music. This would be a different dance, one they would finally share after so many months of convincing themselves that they were 'just friends'. Logan's skin was warm and everything was perfect as she returned his smile and leaned in for another kiss on those sensuous lips -
She shook herself from the daydream and opened her eyes.
"But we're not like that," she whispered.
Max sighed. At least he had accepted the gift of the fish, but the journey to the restrooms the night before must have been very difficult. Using the wheelchair on the rough trail and then manoeuvring into the restrooms themselves. Was there any power for lights? She doubted it.
It didn't bear thinking about. It didn't matter. He wouldn't accept her assistance and that was that, and being in the great outdoors away from convenient city living wasn't going to change anything. Stupid, stubborn, arrogant -
Why was his back hurting so much? Max pictured the campsite as they had returned from the hike. Caitlin was doing all the lifting, under his direction. She had witnessed him bend to stir the rice and flip a piece of fish with some tongs but that shouldn't have caused him the pain he was obviously enduring. She'd have a word with Bling when they returned to Seattle. Perhaps we'll have to convince our reluctant patient that he needs to visit Dr. Carr…
Max was drawn from her reverie by something catching the light further south along the river. It was high in the trees and all she could think of was the ranger station Thompson had mentioned earlier.
I need the walk, she decided, wanting to leave Logan to rest and have some time to herself. She was finding strolling through forest very therapeutic. Won't be another couple of hours before the bird watching hike, anyway. Her mind preoccupied with Logan's health, she headed for the station.
At the edge of the campsite, Thompson silently watched her leave.
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12:15 PM
Ranger Station
Number 7,
Olympic National
Park
Sherry Munroe stood at the north side of the tall structure, leaning on the railing and focusing her binoculars on Lena Creek Campsite. As it wasn't very far away from the station, she had an excellent view. She could see the Girl Scouts were involved with a craft that included Popsicle sticks and coloured yarn. They're makingGod's Eye, she thought, remembering the name from when she had attended summer camp. Of Logan Cale and Max Guevara there was no sign. She wasn't sure why they were really here - neither struck her as the camping type - but they seemed mostly harmless. At least their vehicle matches the address they've given and there aren't any warrants for their arrest. Last thing we need is more trouble.
She'd figure it out.
The ranger station was a solidly built, wooden hexagonal deck with a roof. Except for a railing that went around the entire deck, the sides were open to the elements. There were blinds that could be pulled down in inclement weather, or used to reduce the sun during a heat wave but it wasn't designed as a cottage get-away. The zigzagging exterior stairs alone tended to put off the tourists who wanted to see the view. Others weren't comfortable with the height: sixty feet from the ground. It provided an excellent vantage point to monitor this part of Olympic and gave a three hundred and sixty degree view of any potential fires. There were ten such stations throughout the park. Sherry wished there were more.
She sighed, enjoying the beautiful spring day and moved to a different side, refocussing her attention on the forest that led to the mountains.
"Nice view."
She fumbled with the binoculars and they would have dropped sixty feet if a hand hadn't swooped in and caught them.
"I bet these cost a bundle," Max quipped, putting the equipment to her own eyes and pivoting to focus on the campsite. "Ooooh, they're doing crafts without me."
Sherry struggled to return her breathing to normal. "I didn't see you approaching."
Max smiled and lowered the binoculars, handing them back to the ranger. "You were busy," she said simply. She didn't sense the woman was a danger but she needed to know where she stood in the park hierarchy. Any information would be useful, as things were moving way too slow, and the hunters had too many targets.
"Or hear you approaching, for that matter." Sherry felt oddly calm and took the binoculars with a steady hand. "You're fast, you swim like a fish and climb like a squirrel - only quieter."
"Habit. So, are you… looking for anything in particular?"
"The usual." Sherry wasn't sure how to react to that question so she took neutral ground. Thompson had told her of the encounter with this young woman at the booth. She had to be careful. Civilians, however well meaning, could muddle the whole situation. "Enjoying the park?"
Max walked towards the far side of the station slowly, taking in the view as she moved. "Oh, yeah," she said sincerely. "It's beautiful here. And quiet, too."
"Not like Seattle."
"No. Not like Seattle." She stopped about halfway along and studied the mountains in the distance. "There are parts of Seattle that aren't very nice. I've had to deliver to them. Customer is a customer, as long as he pays. Lots of guns and drugs and smuggling. You have to make sure you don't get caught in the middle of somethin'." Max turned back to Sherry. "Looks like someone wants to turn this place into a bad neighbourhood."
Sherry nodded. In for a penny… "Thompson told me about your interest in rifles."
"That figures. Say, does he do that spooky Ancient One trick a lot?"
The ranger laughed lightly. "I don't know what you mean."
Max shrugged. "Whatever. You can have your secrets. So. About hunting."
"Not permitted."
"About Peter Hurst, then."
"You should leave that to the proper authorities."
"They're sure of themselves, aren't they? These hunters?" Max pressed. "Peter said one guy bragged about doin' this for years. You didn't know, did you?"
Sherry leaned one hip against the railing. It was almost a relief to discuss it. "No. Well, we had suspicions that something wasn't right, but nothing concrete. The hunter could've been lying, though, to scare the boy."
Max closed the distance between them quickly. "You don't think he was, though, do you?" She pointed to Lena Creek Campsite. "You've got Girl Scouts down there, for cryin' out loud. Can we say 'target practice'?"
The ranger stiffened. "We'll get them."
"When? This place should be closed to the public until these nut bars are stopped!"
Sherry tried not to be baited but it was difficult when she was hearing her own arguments presented to her. "I understand, believe me, but how would we catch them if they had nothing to tempt them?"
Max snorted and crossed her arms. "Is that the official position of the Conservation Council or something? I've heard it before. It goes something like this: 'How many children need to die at an intersection before the city will put up a traffic light?'"
"It isn't that simple."
"Bullshit."
"You weren't there!"
And something clicked in Max's head. She could hear Andrew Hurst speaking as if he were standing right beside her.
"If the ranger hadn't heard the gunfire, if she hadn't made it there in time -""You were the one who found him."
Sherry hesitated then nodded. "Yes. I fired several shots but don't think I hit anyone. There was no trace of blood other than Hurst's when the police took their samples from the site. All I cared about at the time was scaring them away and getting the boy to a hospital."
"No offence or anything, but why didn't the hunters just shoot you? You know, two for the price of one. If they had night gear, what are the chances that you were a nice, clear target?"
"The chances were good, but I risk my life out here all the time. It comes with the green shirt."
"So why didn't they kill you?"
"I wasn't alone."
Max thought about that answer, remembering her strange dream, but decided to let it go. It was just a dream, after all, and she'd been kidding about the Ancient One thing 'cause that weird moment in the booth with Brick Shithouse hadn't really happened, had it?
"You called for the air lift to Seattle?"
"Thompson did."
"Ah."
"You two aren't cops." It was a statement, not a question.
"No, but then I told that to your ranger friend."
"It's good to know the story is consistent, at least."
There was an awkward pause, as if they were both trying to decide what to say next or whether or not they should say anything at all.
Wisdom won out, in both cases.
"If they're still around, we'll help all we can," Max promised.
"They're around." Sherry didn't elaborate.
Max didn't want her to, so that worked out well. "I'm glad we had this little chat," she said brightly and headed for the stairs.
"They're going out with Melanie this afternoon, aren't they?"
"Some of them are staying at the campsite."
"Are you going with them?"
"Yep. I'm gonna learn about the birds. I hear you have an eagle's nest you're monitoring."
Sherry managed a smile. "Yes. Peter Hurst was interested in that, too, though I don't know how he found out." Max frowned slightly. "It isn't general knowledge," the ranger explained. "And the nest is a bit off the beaten path. We don't want people crowding the birds."
"Right. Well, for the record, I know about it 'cause you told Caitlin and she told me."
"Right. Of course." Max hesitated at the top of the steps. "Well." Sherry looked out at the forest then back to Max. "You be careful out there."
"Count on it."
Before she could try another approach to convincing the young woman and her husband to leave the investigation to the rangers and the Mason County police, Sherry found herself alone on the deck. She went to the edge and peered over the railing.
Max was almost at the bottom step.
