High Desert Barbecue (23 page)

“
Of course,” the BLM man added. “I’m not sure Greenfield’s people play well with others. The local hippies may be tree huggers, but Greenfield’s people are tree
fuckers
.”

I
n the door of the coffee house across the street, beneath a sign proclaiming the establishment’s vegan orientation, a man in baggy shorts and a ratty t-shirt wiped mustard from the strands of his wispy beard. With exaggerated relish, he devoured a large and obviously meat-laden submarine sandwich.

A
shout rose up, words were exchanged, and a brief scuffle broke out. The sandwich eater smirked and drifted away.

V
an Kamp sagged. He glanced at the BLM official, who just shrugged in reply.

“
Shit.”

Chapter 52

“
Shit,” Greenfield said, unintentionally echoing his co-conspirators just a few blocks away. He gazed across a bobbing sea of heads in Heritage Square, punctuated by a few raised fists, and serenaded by a growing chorus of angry voices.

“
We don’t have time for this crap. I didn’t bring our people up here so they can tangle with animal lovers and rednecks.” He paused, tugged at his beard and turned to his younger companion.

“
You
do
think we could take ‘em, don’t you?”

N
ext to him, Happy, who was known as Henry to his parents, tugged at his own, much wispier, beard. He wore leather sandals, cargo pants and a peach-colored button-down shirt with an unidentifiable food stain on the breast pocket—activist business attire, from head to toe. Activist attire, that is, except for the wild curls of red hair that inspired his nickname; Happy the Clown had been a local celebrity in his upscale California suburb to whom the young Henry had borne a startling resemblance.

“
Yeah, we could definitely take the animal lovers—they don’t get enough protein. But the rednecks … The Williams refugees are kind of pissed off …”

G
reenfield grunted and scowled.

“
Anyway, we don’t have time for that crap. We’re supposed to be making
more
pissed-off rednecks. Did the Fredonia team get off OK?”

“
Yeah, but some of the others. Well—” Happy stuttered, and then stopped.

G
reenfield backed a few steps from two women engaging in a pushing contest. One wore a peasant skirt and might, or might not, be a member of his organization. The other wore blue jeans and a blouse that must have shrunk in the wash. Several times.

G
reenfield tugged his companion’s sleeve to pull him from harm’s way as the woman in the blouse gave an especially hard shove and sent her antagonist flying. A button from the blouse went flying after her.

”’
Well’ what?”

“
Well … some of our people are confused about what we’re doing. I mean they’re with the program about burning out the towns, and all.”

“
Yeah? So what’s the problem?”

“
What’s to keep them from rebuilding? Then this is all wasted effort—
risky
wasted effort. I mean, we’re all risking getting busted, and it might not do any good. We don’t have enough people to force settlement out of the West.”

G
reenfield sighed.

“
That’s why our people are so jumpy?”

“
Yeah. Well that—and they know we haven’t heard back from Bob, Rena and Sam.”

G
reenfield backed a few more steps away from what was now a full-blown cat fight with a growing crowd of spectators.

“
Look, don’t worry about Bob, Rena and Samantha. They’re doing important work and they can take care of themselves. You remember how Bob took care of the car dealership don’t you? And have you ever seen Rena back down from anything?”

T
he younger man shrugged noncommittally.

“
Besides, we’re not going to push anybody out ourselves,” the older man’s voice rumbled. “We just start the fires. The army will push ‘em out.”

“
The army?”

“
Cops, FBI, angry social workers, whatever. This is why we joined up with our uniformed friends. We start the fires, Van Kamp and the other pencil-pushers argue that major parts of the West are too dangerous to live in and they get the wheels turning for a big buy-out of private land—dimes on the dollar because it’s all cinders anyway.”

“
Lots of folks aren’t going to like that. They might fight back.”

G
reenfield smiled.

“
I’m counting on it. Plenty of feds will have doubts right up until the first asshole shoots at them. Hell, you know what happens when you call a cop a jerk—even when he’s being a jerk.”

H
appy winced and tugged gently at the scarlet fuzz on his chin.

“
Yeah. It’s like waving a red sheet at a bull.”

“
That’s right. Their brains will shut down and they’ll make it a matter of pride to turn this entire state into a wilderness preserve. We’ll get our way without doing any heavy lifting past setting the fires.”

T
he younger man held his tongue for a long moment. He watched the fight, which had now picked up two more participants—another hippy and a cop. The Williams girl in the too-tight blouse was holding her own against all-comers.

“
None of them are our people are they?” Greenfield asked.

“
Uh … yeah. Two of them.”

“
Crap. That’s no good.”

“
Bad publicity?”

“
They fight like pussies.”

“
Umm, another question?”

“
Yeah?”

“
What if nobody shoots at the feds?”

G
reenfield pointed to the fight.

“
That doesn’t seem too likely.”

“
But if?”

“
Well, Hell. You’re a good shot, aren’t you? We’ll make it happen.”

T
he younger man stood open-mouthed for a moment. He snapped his jaw shut, swallowed and vigorously nodded.

G
reenfield smiled back. He returned his attention to the fight and winced almost immediately.

“
Damn it! Can’t any of our people throw a decent punch?”

Chapter 53

A
t the other end of the crowded square, another argument brewed.

“
Hey man,” a lounger said, hunched forward on a low concrete wall, waving a giant burrito with one hand. He spoke loudly to be heard above the sound of the cat fight that held Greenfield’s attention just yards away. Wrap-around sunglasses hid his eyes and masked his expression, but earnestness dripped from his voice. “Cool your jets. All I said was that the fire is a travesty! It’s killing all sorts of wildlife. Think of the animals chased out of their natural habitat!”

S
itting on the same wall close by in a large circle of people, a woman shook her head vigorously. Her hair stuck out in strands under a bicycle helmet.

“
You don’t get it. The fire can teach people a lesson about messing with nature. It’s part of the natural cycle of life, and humans interfere with nature at their own risk. But it also clears out the parasitic mammals so the plants can reproduce in peace and reach their natural potential.”

“
Hey,” chimed in a woman in sandals and a sky-blue windbreaker. “I get what you’re saying about fire teaching people a lesson, but people are invaders in nature. Animals are just doing their thing.”

“
Whoah. You’re forgetting that
animals
are aggressors against
plants
. Lots of times they eat plants with no provocation at all.”

“
Whoah, that’s
bullshit
.”

“
No, she has a point,” said a long-haired man wearing cut-off shorts and … well … shorts. “Animals
do
aggress against plants. Plants don’t do anything to them. I think that raises a serious moral issue.”

“
But Venus Flytraps eat animals. That’s aggression.”

“
They eat
bugs
. Are bugs really
animals
?”

“
Hey. We all agree that people deserve what they get. Fuck ‘em for building in the forest. But to say that animals deserve the same is—”

“
You just don’t fucking get it.”

“
Don’t curse at me, man.” The guy in the sunglasses rose to his feet and threw his burrito across the now-agitated circle. “How can you hate
animals
?”

Y
ards away, leaning against the brick wall of a building housing a store that sold hiking and camping gear, two men looked on. Both sported well-used blue jeans and equally well-used faces. One wore a cowboy hat that might once have been a specific color, but had long since absented itself from any recognizable part of the spectrum. The other wore a baseball cap with an unreadable logo.

T
he one in the cowboy hat spat.

“
Did those assholes say we deserved to get burned out?”

T
he fellow in the baseball cap shifted very slightly.

“
I think so. I was concentrating on the whole ‘animals are good,’ ‘animals suck’ thing, but I’m pretty sure they said they like forest fires ‘cause they hurt people.”

T
he two men stood still for a few minutes, watching the nearby debate grow more violent.

“
Hell,” cowboy hat said. “I think that deserves some ass-kicking.”

B
aseball cap smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“
Damned straight.”

T
he two men broke away from the wall and stepped forward.

J
ust feet away, the woman in the bicycle helmet turned away from the man she’d just punched and wiped at the splattered food on her shirt. Black beans and red sauce dripped from the fabric.

“
Fuck! Is this
vegetarian
?”

Chapter 54

“
Rena.”

T
he woman gently extended her hands, running her fingers along the wounded ranger’s body, stroking his impassive face. She gently bypassed his eyes, which stared blankly at the sky.

“
Rena.”

H
er fingers moved back down his body, over his chest, to his stomach. Slowly, her fingertips disappeared under the tattered remnants of his loincloth.

“
Rena!”

“
Oh, I’m sorry. I was just making sure Ray is comfortable.”

J
ason grunted. Next to him, Samantha giggled.

“
Yeah. I think Ray is pretty comfortable. Why don’t we all leave him alone so he can get some rest?”

“
Wow,” Terry said. He stared at Rena and Ray. “That’s some first aid.”

B
ob snickered. The sound became a groan as he jarred his injured shoulder.

“
Let’s go folks!” He glanced at the sky. “It’s getting dark. It’s a great time to make camp. Why don’t we scatter so we don’t give anybody a big target to aim at?”

T
erry met his eyes.

“
Why don’t we get the hell out of here and give them even less of a target?”