Dark Mountain (4 page)

“She’s all right.”

“All right, my ass. She’s a knockout, and you know it. Now if I was in your shoes, I’d be right in there striking up an acquaintance.”

“Yeah, well…”

“You don’t want her thinking you’re stuck up.”

“I’m not stuck up.”

Approaching the car, Nick watched Julie pick up her backpack. She lifted it by the straps and swung it onto the trunk of her father’s Olds Cutlass. Balancing it there, she turned around. Her eyes met Nick’s for a moment, as if to make sure he was watching. Then she leaned back, hooking one arm through a strap, twisting, slipping her other arm into place. She leaned forward. The pack tipped against her. She stood up straight; the pull of the straps drew her shoulders back. Nick found himself staring at her breasts, which seemed more prominent than before.

He turned away to put on his own backpack. When he looked again at Julie, she was wearing aviator sunglasses and a red beret that made her seem like some kind of commando.

That’s a sharp hat, he could tell her. Sharp? She’ll think I’m a turkey. An awesome hat. That’s better. But he didn’t say it. Instead, he picked up his walking stick.

“Hey,” Julie said, “is that a real blackthorn stick?” She walked toward him.

Blushing, he nodded.

“Can I see it?”

He handed it to her.

“Hey, this is nice.” She ran her hands along its polished, knobby shaft.

“I got it in Ireland.”

“Really? We’ve been there. Where did you buy it?”

“Some gift shop near Blarney Castle.”

“No kidding? We were there. Benny got a shillelagh at that place. Blarney Handicrafts?”

“Yeah, that’s the place.”

She returned his stick.

“Did you kiss the Blarney Stone?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“How about the stairs going up there?”

“Pretty hairy.”

She laughed. “Kissing the stone was a cinch after those stairs. Did you get the gift of gab?”

“I’m not sure it worked on me.”

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Dad called.

Julie stayed beside Nick as they walked over to join the rest of the group. With Mr. O’Toole and Dad in the lead, they hiked across a meadow. Ahead, Nick saw a wooden trail sign.

“Have you ever been up in this area?” Julie asked.

“Not around here. We’ve been into Mineral King, Yosemite, lots of places. Parts of the John Muir Trail. How about you?”

She shook her head, making her blonde hair sway. “I think it’s really neat to go where you haven’t been before.”

“Yeah, like exploring.”

“And you never know what you’ll find.”

They reached the trail, a wide dusty track leading into the forest. The sign beside it read
JUNIPER LAKE
, 2
MI
.

“If it’s all right with everybody,” Mr. O’Toole said, “we’ll stop there for the night.”

“Fine by me,” Dad said.

The arrow pointed to the left. They started to walk. The straps felt snug on Nick’s shoulders. The pack, though
heavy, rode easily on his back. He took a deep breath. The hot air smelled of dust, and flowers, and pine, and he caught a hint of perfume from Julie. She stayed beside him as they walked.

She’s not so bad after all, he thought. This could turn out good.

Ettie’s leg muscles trembled from the strain of squatting. Finally, she straightened up. She looked at what she’d done. With both hands, she scooped up loose soil. She sprinkled it onto the pile of her feces. “Into the dirt,” she said, “I commit the essence of my foes. As their essence is obscured, so let all traces of their presence be banished from this canyon, that those who seek them might find no cause to trespass here.”

She brushed her hands on her dress.

“That’ll do it,” she muttered.

She backed out of the crevice and sat on a block of granite. This high on the slope, she was still in sunlight. The shadow was not far below, creeping slowly upward as the sun sank closer to the opposite ridge.

There was already a nice breeze. It made her sweaty dress feel cool. Raising her arms, she let the breeze chill her sodden armpits.

Merle appeared, off to the right, mounting the crest of the small ridge that separated the lakes. He wore one blue backpack, and carried another. As Ettie watched, he started climbing the shadowy slope. He didn’t get far before abandoning the pack in his arms. With the other still on his back, he made his way higher, leaving the shade behind. He clambered over boulders, scurried up steep granite slabs, and finally vanished. From where Ettie sat, it looked as if he’d stepped through solid rock. She couldn’t see the fissure that led into their cave.

A few moments later, Merle reappeared. He sprang down the slope, going to retrieve the second pack.

Though still angry with him, Ettie had to admit she looked forward to checking out the booty. If the couple’s tent was any indication, they’d come well equipped. Probably had a camp stove and a couple of nice sleeping bags at least. A stove would come in real handy. Wouldn’t put up smoke like the cook fires they sometimes built in the cave. And their ratty old sleeping bags weren’t much good against the night’s cold. There’d be food, too. Probably enough to keep them going for a few more days anyway. They’d been talking about another raid on campers over by Lake Wilson, just to snatch some food, but there was always the danger of giving themselves away, pulling stunts like that, so it was good not to try it too often.

In spite of the advantages, she wished Merle would learn to control himself. He was just like his father that way. Poor man got a taste of the power, and just couldn’t stop. Took a policeman’s bullet to stop him. She should’ve learned her lesson from that, and kept Merle ignorant. Seems a man just hasn’t got the same control a woman does. It’s that pecker, of course. Once that pecker gets heated up, nothing else matters.

I offered ’em down
.

The gall of that boy, laying blame on the Master. The only call he got came from right between his legs.

She should’ve stopped him. When they saw those two swimming, she’d known Merle might go after the gal. She’d warned him against it. He’d promised to leave her alone. Ettie knew how weak he was. She had to admit she’d half expected him to break his promise. But when he fell asleep after dark, she’d figured it’d be all right. He must’ve been playing possum, just to put her at ease so she’d sleep and leave him free to sneak down.

Well, he wouldn’t trick her that way again. Next time—if there was a next time—she’d keep herself awake all night.

As Merle disappeared again into the cave, Ettie stood up. Her rump was numb from sitting on the rock. She
rubbed it, and the feeling returned with an aching tingle. Then she started down the slope.

She was eager to get to the cave and see what Merle had brought in. First things first, though. She’d have to give the campsite a close look to make sure all the traces were gone.

Halfway down the slope, she left the sunlight behind. In the shade, the breeze felt chilly. Ettie hoped those folks had some nice parkas with them. Her sweatshirt up at the cave wasn’t nearly warm enough once the sun went down.

She didn’t descend all the way to the lake; that would mean more climbing. Instead, when she was about level with the low ridge at the northern end, she traversed the slope. She reached the ridge, leaped across the gap where the stream, far below, tumbled toward Lower Mesquite, and made her way down.

At the clearing among the trees where the campers had been, she found nothing. Even the circle of rocks piled up by previous visitors as a fireplace had been scattered, the ashes covered over. Where the tent had stood, the ground was now littered with pine needles and pine cones, sticks, and a few charred rocks from the fireplace. Merle had done a good job. But what had he done with the bodies?

Ettie wandered among the trees, saw nothing that looked suspicious, and returned to the campsite. Her eyes settled on the flat place where the tent had been. She stepped over to it. With the edge of her boot, she scraped a swath through the debris. She squatted down and pushed her fingers into the loose, grainy soil. Dropping to her knees, she started to dig. The hole deepened quickly as she scooped out handfuls of dirt.

At least if they’re here, she thought, Merle planted them down far enough.

Her fingernails raked something soft. She cleared a small area at the bottom of the hole, uncovering an island of skin. Her nails had gouged furrows in it. Widening the hole, she discovered a navel. The skin around it was nearly hairless, so she figured this must be the girl.

She crawled forward, dug some more, and found the man’s hip. Satisfied that Merle had buried them both, she filled in the holes. She stomped down the soil. She scattered pine needles over the area until it looked undisturbed.

She didn’t much like the fact that Merle had buried them smack in the middle of the lake’s only camping area. They were better than a foot under the surface, though. She supposed it’d be all right.

Back at the trail sign, Benny had thought two miles would be easy. After all, two miles was the distance from school to home, and he’d walked it a few times. He didn’t remember it being hard. That was without a pack, though. And that was without an uphill climb that seemed to go on forever.

At first, he’d been able to keep up with Dad and Mr. Gordon. When the trail started upward, though, his pack got heavier and heavier. The straps felt like hands on his shoulders, trying to shove him into the ground. Sweat made his glasses slip down his nose. Finally, he stepped off the trail. He dug into his pocket for the elastic band he used in gym class to keep his glasses from falling off. While he was busy attaching it, Karen and Mrs. Gordon came along.

“Is it going okay?” Karen asked. She didn’t look tired at all.

“Oh, my glasses,” he said. “I’ll catch up.”

“No hurry.” With a wave, she continued up the trail, walking slowly with long strides, leaning into the slope. Benny put on his glasses. He watched the backs of her slender legs.

While he was staring, the twins came up the trail. He nodded a greeting to them, and the one with the ponytail gave him a look like she thought he was a clod. What had he done, he wondered, to deserve that? After they passed, she whispered something to her sister, and both girls giggled a little.

Blushing, he made sure his zipper was up. It was.

They must’ve been making fun of him because he was resting. Or maybe because of his glasses. Four-eyes is pooped out.

He’d show them who’s pooped.

Quickly, he pushed the loop of the elastic band onto his other earpiece. He glanced down the trail. Julie and Nick were coming toward him. He wouldn’t give
her
a chance to knock him. Hanging onto his shoulder straps, he leaned into the weight and hurried up the trail.

He took long, steady strides like Karen. He closed in on the twins. “Beep-beep,” he said. They glanced back, looking startled, and Pigtails fell in behind her sister to make room. He lunged past them.

One muttered, “Turkey,” as he left them behind. He didn’t look back.

Karen came into view as he rounded a bend. He kept up his speed until he was only a couple of yards behind her, then slowed his pace to match hers.

Turning sideways, she smiled back at him. Even in that funny hat, she was beautiful. “Do you want through?” she asked.

“No, thanks. This is fine.”

It was real fine. He stayed behind her, watching her walk, listening to her voice as she talked with Mrs. Gordon. He couldn’t make out many of the words, but that didn’t matter.

His shoulders hurt. His back was sore just above his rump where the pack rested. His leg muscles trembled. Sweat dripped down his face. His shirt and underwear felt glued to his skin. He was huffing for breath. But he didn’t slow down. He stayed close behind Karen, well ahead of the snotty twins, and Julie and Nick.

No matter how awful he felt, he wouldn’t fall behind. He wouldn’t let himself.

Finally, the trail leveled out.

Then it sloped gently downward. He scanned the valley to the left, but saw only thick woods.

The lake’s gotta be here someplace, he thought.

Two miles, the marker had said. They must’ve already hiked five. So where is it? Maybe the sign lied. Maybe there was a number one in front of the two and it was covered with dirt or something, and Juniper Lake is twelve miles. No, the ranger had said…

“Here we are,” came Mr. Gordon’s voice. He and Dad had stopped just ahead.

“How’s it going?” Dad asked Karen.

“Whew,” she said. She took off her hat. It had matted down her hair. The strands across her forehead were wet and dark.

“It was a doozy,” Benny said.

She smiled at him, and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

“You did real good,” Dad told him. “That was pretty tough going.”

He shrugged, and managed not to wince as pain streaked through his shoulders. “It wasn’t so tough,” he said.

While they waited for the others to catch up, Mr. Gordon showed them the trail sign. It read
JUNIPER LAKE
, but gave no distance. The arrow pointed to the left, where a narrow trail joined the main one and dropped away from the slope. Benny peered into the trees. He saw no trace of a lake.

“Where’s the lake?” the ponytailed girl asked, frowning at her mother.

“Down there,” Mrs. Gordon said.

“I don’t see it.”

“Me either,” said the sister.

“Right
there
,” Benny told them. He pointed down the trail at the shadowy forest. “Can’t you see it?” he asked.

“No. Where?”

“See? Through there?”

Both girls scrunched up their faces and squinted into the trees.

“Maybe you need glasses,” Benny suggested.

“Do not.”

Quite a while later, well after reaching the bottom of the
hill, Benny spotted a pale area through the trees ahead. The lake surface. About time.

“There it is!” cried one of the twins.

He grinned to himself, and kept on walking.

“Well now.” With a sigh, Flash slung his pack to the ground.

Scott took off his pack, too. The clearing, at the foot of the trail, was close to the shoreline. It had obviously been used often as a campsite. There were logs laid out as benches around a fireplace. There was a small pile of firewood. Plenty of flat area for sleeping.

Listening carefully, Scott heard the breeze stirring the leaves, the quiet lap of waves. But he heard no running water that would indicate a nearby stream.

“Why don’t you all take a load off,” he suggested. “I’ll scout ahead. There might be a better place farther on.”

“This looks all right to me,” Flash said.

“Well, I’d rather be near a stream. Running water.”

“Good point,” Flash said.

“I’ll come with you.” Karen swung her pack off, set it down, and joined him.

Benny, sitting on the ground against his pack, started to get up.

“You wait here,” Scott told him. “We’ll just be gone a few minutes.”

Looking disappointed, the boy settled back.

Karen followed Scott along a path near the shoreline. Without his pack, he felt nearly weightless. He walked with a springy step. The breeze was cool against his damp T-shirt. And he was alone with Karen, at least for the moment. He turned to her. “Howdy, stranger.”

She ducked under his outstretched arm, and leaned against him. He cupped her shoulder. They walked along the path, holding each other. “Now, this is nice,” she said.

“You surviving the kids all right?”

“Sure. They’re fine. Benny’s quite a guy.”

“I think he’s fallen for you. Can’t blame him.”

“I’ve fallen for him, too.” She patted Scott’s side. “Good thing for you he’s just a kid.”

“I wish Julie’d shape up. Maybe she will, now that Nick’s around.”

“They seem to be getting along okay.”

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about the sleeping arrangements. I really don’t see how we can manage…”

“I know. I’ve thought about that, too. I guess I tent with Julie, huh?”

“I can’t figure any way around it, what with the kids and the Gordons.”

“That’s all right. Maybe we’ll be able to sneak off, sometime.”

“You can bet on it.”

Karen’s hand moved down, and pushed into a rear pocket of his trousers. It stayed there, curved against his rump, caressing, as they walked along the path.

“If Julie gives you any trouble,” Scott said, “let me know.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other.”

“She’s really not a bad kid. I’ve been trying to figure her out. It hit her pretty hard when her mother split. But it was never. ‘How could she do that to me?’ She only seemed upset that
I’d
been dumped on. She really holds it against June, won’t even talk to her on the phone. Both kids are pretty bitter about what she did, but with Julie it seems to have spilled over onto you. It’s not you personally. She’d have the same feeling toward any woman I got serious about. I’m sure of that. She seems to feel it’s her duty to protect me.”

“Maybe she’ll get over it once we know each other better.”

“I sure hope so. I feel bad, though, that you have to be put through this kind of thing.”

Karen smiled up at him. “Hell, you’re worth it.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s so.”

They rounded a bend in the shoreline, and Scott heard the sound of rushing water.

“Success!” Karen said. She squeezed his rump, withdrew her hand from his pocket, and stepped ahead through a narrow passage between two trees. Scott watched her hurry forward. She bounded up a small, rocky rise, glanced down, then whirled around. “
Voilà!
” she cried.

Scott climbed up to join her. A few feet below, a stream tumbled and swirled over rocks on its way to the lake.

They stepped down to it. Kneeling, Karen dipped a hand into the water. She cupped some to her mouth, and drank. “It’s luscious,” she said. As Scott tried the chilly water, she splashed her face. Then, to his amazement, she unbuttoned her blouse. She spread it open, scooped up water with both hands, and flung it against herself. He watched it splatter her bare skin. It slid over her breasts, dripped from the jutting tips of her nipples, rolled down her belly. Bending over, she cupped more water to her mouth.

Scott reached across her back. He lifted the hanging side of her blouse out of the way, and curled his fingers around her breast. The skin was wet and cool, the nipple springy against his palm. She turned her face to him, and they kissed. “We’d…better not.”

He kissed her again, then let go. As Karen buttoned her blouse, he caressed her back beneath it. Then they stood up. Scott filled his lungs with the fresh air. “Well, let’s see if there’s a decent place around here to pitch camp.”

They leaped across the stream, walked up a low slope of broken granite, and looked down at a clearing. “All
right
,” Karen said.

They made their way down to it. In the middle stood a nicely built-up stone fireplace with a grate across the top. Large, flat-topped rocks and smoothly sawed logs for stools were placed around it. Someone had even gone to the trouble of lashing branches together in the semblance of a table. Best of all, Scott saw plenty of level ground for the tents.

“It looks ideal to me,” Karen said.

“Me, too.”

They headed back to tell the others.

“Let’s get organized here,” Flash said, rubbing his hands together. “Nick, you help me with the tents. Alice, why don’t you and the girls scout around for firewood? We’ll get this show on the road.”

“Benny,” Scott said. “You want to go with them?”

The boy shook his head. “I wanta do the tents.”

As Alice led the twins into the trees, Flash turned to Scott. “Where do you want to set up? You should get first choice, since you found this place.”

“Makes no difference to me,” Scott told him. “Right here’s fine for one. Maybe pitch the other over there.” He nodded toward a level area closer to the lake.

“You want one that far off?”

“Sure. Why not? Give everybody a little breathing room.”

“Breathing room, eh?” He winked.

Scott looked amused as he pulled a tubular plastic bag from his pack.

“Which place do we get?” Benny asked.

“We should let the ladies pick.”

“How about it?” Karen asked Julie.

The girl shrugged.

“Over by the lake?”

“I don’t care.”

“I wanta be close to the fire,” Benny said.

Karen grinned. “You’ve got it. Julie and I’ll take the scenic tent.” For a moment, her eyes met Flash’s. There was mischief in them. Fooled you, they seemed to say.

Flash was fooled, all right. If he’d been in Scott’s shoes, nothing in the world could’ve kept him from tenting with a woman like Karen. He hadn’t put it quite that way to Alice, when they’d discussed it last night. He’d simply bet her a dinner at Victoria Station against a dinner at Casa Escobar that the couple would share a tent. “I don’t know about the girl,” she said, “but Scott isn’t that way.” Flash had smiled
at that. He managed to refrain from telling about the time in Saigon when he and Scott, bare-ass and side by side, humped the daylights out of a couple of whores—then traded. No point in tarnishing Scott’s image. Hell, Scott was about the only friend of his that Alice approved of. “Aside from just good manners,” Alice had continued, “he wouldn’t put Julie and Benny together. They’re too old to be sleeping together.” That point nearly succeeded in changing Flash’s mind. Still, he hadn’t called off the bet. Maybe they’d show up with three tents, one for each kid and…

“Over here?” Nick asked.

Flash turned around. His son was standing in a six-foot space between two spruces, a rolled-up tent in his arms. “That’ll be fine. Hold up a minute, though, till we clear the ground.”

Together, they brushed away the twigs and pine cones littering the area. Then they rolled out the red tent, and spread it flat. They joined the fiberglass wands, slid them in at the four corners, inserted the tips into eyelets at the top and bottom, and lifted the roof. In less than five minutes, the tent was up. All that remained was to tie out the guy lines and stake it down.

“I’ll get the hatchet,” Flash said.

He headed for his pack. Scott, Karen, and Benny had nearly finished setting up a blue, two-man tent similar to his own. Julie was crouched by the fireplace, pouring fuel from an aluminum bottle into the base of a Primus stove.

Flash rummaged through his pack. As he looked for the hatchet, his stomach growled. He tried to remember the menu he’d worked out with Scott, but couldn’t recall what was planned for to night’s meal. One of the Dri-Lite stews, probably. With pudding for dessert—either vanilla or chocolate. He hoped for vanilla. Nothing could beat that vanilla pudding, especially when it didn’t get mixed up real good and still had some of those lumps in it.

He found the hatchet. As he walked back toward the tent, he saw Nick staring into space. No, not into space. At
Julie. The girl was holding the small stove high, waving a lighted match under its base to warm the fuel for priming.