High Desert Barbecue (13 page)

Chapter 28

S
cott dropped the empty magazine from his pistol without breaking stride, stuffing it into a pocket in his shorts. He replaced it with a full magazine, racked a round into the chamber, and then engaged the thumb safety before dropping the gun back into its holster.

“
How many more of those do you have,” Rollo asked. He gripped his .22 rifle by its plastic stock, waving it like a schoolroom pointer.

“
Magazines?”

“
Yeah.”

“
This is it. I wasn’t expecting a gun battle with naked arsonists.”

“
Naked taxpayer-subsidized arsonists with the runs!”

L
ani laughed.

“
Hey honey. I’m glad you’re not too freaked out.” Scott hopped over rocks so he could comfortably put his arm around his girlfriend. Champ lent moral support, trotting along at the woman’s side opposite Scott.

L
ani folded her arms across her chest, and then lifted her face to smile at Scott.

“
Oh, I’m freaked out. I’m completely fucking terrified. But I can still laugh when I imagine those maniacs suffering from a heavy dose of laxatives.”

S
cott and Rollo both laughed.

“
Oh, I didn’t have to imagine it,” the older man said. “As we split, I saw one of them come out of the rocks wearing some kind of tinfoil instead of his pants. I’ll bet he was out of action all through the fight.” He shot a sharp look at the blonde woman. “Y’know. You may have saved our butts by dosing that water. Good thinking.”

L
ani jerked her head sharply toward Rollo.

“
Thanks.”

S
cott cradled Lani’s head in the crook of his left elbow, then kissed her gently on the bit of her forehead accessible below her rain hood. Then he peered up at the newly blue sky with its retreating line of storm clouds. He peeled back his own hood, and began wriggling out of his rain jacket without bothering to loosen his backpack straps.

“
If you had big tits and lost that five-o-clock shadow, that routine would earn you big bucks in any strip joint,” Rollo commented. He easily doffed his rain poncho, balled it up, and stuffed it back into a pocket in his pack.

“
I can’t do anything about the tits, but I’ll try for a closer shave. I may need that money.” Finally free of the jacket, which he crammed back into its stuff sack, Scott turned his attention back to Rollo.

“
Speaking of ammunition, how much do you have for that pop-gun of yours?”

“
Plenty. That’s the nice thing about .22. It weighs so little that I always have a couple hundred rounds somewhere at the bottom of my pack.”

“
With all of those little bullets, you might give somebody a nasty bruise.”

“
Hey, I got them to keep their heads down.”

T
he trio trudged along for a while, darting occasional glances over their shoulders. Champ again took the lead, scouting ahead and showing every sign of pure doggie joy in the extended hike. Despite the break in the rain, when possible, they stuck to the high ground by the canyon walls, avoiding the boulder-strewn stream bed where flash floods could catch the unwary. Blue sky overhead might be nature’s own little game of bait-and-switch if a sudden squall at the head of the canyon sent a wall of water roaring down on them.

B
ut trading low ground for high ground meant trading rocks for spiny plants that caught at their skin as much as at their clothing. Red scratches soon criss-crossed their arms and legs, transforming them into bloody tic-tac-toe boards.

S
cott called a halt to the hike when the sky began to dim.

“
We might as well make camp. We’ll lose light pretty quickly down here.”

L
ani peered back the way they’d come.

“
Do you think they’re still behind us?

“
Yep. Somewhere. But hiking this canyon in the dark is just begging for a broken ankle. They’ll have to stop the same as us.”

They settled on a small patch of relatively level, elevated ground. A ring of charred rocks marked where hikers had made camp in the past. Scott and Lani dropped their packs to the ground, and then quickly set up their shelter. They strung a line between two sycamore trees, then draped a lightweight tarp over the line and staked it out like an A-frame. A bug net was hung under the tarp, with a groundcloth to protect the campers from dirt and damp. They tucked their sleeping pads and bags under the shelter to keep them out of harm’s way should the rain return.

R
ollo sat on the edge of his blanket, which rested on a groundcloth, under the open sky. He sipped water, picked at his teeth with a twig, and cast an occasional gaze up the canyon.

“
You folks have a shower in that set-up? How about a flush toilet?”

S
cott moved a corner stake to tighten its attached line.

“
It’s only a tarp, Rollo.”

“
It takes long enough to get the damned thing up.”

“
It has head room for two, it keeps the scorpions out and it weighs less than that canvas beach blanket of yours.”

T
he older man grumbled.

“
I guess.”

T
he sky flickered and a low rumble echoed from the canyon walls. An early star was visible directly overhead, but the canyon walls obscured any view of incoming weather.

L
ani flicked on her headlamp, turning sycamore branches into shadowy, grasping arms reaching across the pale rocks.

“
I’m hungry. Scott, I hope you brought the stove. And the food.”

“
Nope.”

“
No?”

“
It’s in your pack.”

“
Oh.”

L
ani disappeared under the tarp, the bug net draped across her elevated rump. She reappeared with a pot in one hand and a mesh bag full of cooking supplies in the other.

S
cott took the pot from her hand and sat on the ground, using his folded sleeping pad as a seat. He lifted the lid and fished out a small metal cylinder, which he placed on an aluminum plate. A taller mesh cylinder wrapped around the metal cylinder.

R
ollo rose from his blanket and squatted by Scott.

“
And
you
call
me
MacGyver.”

“
It’s just a stove. You’ve seen it before.”

“
You made it out of soda cans.”

“
Yep.”

“
Is that something they teach you on those fancy, East Coast trails?”

“
Nah. Those trails are catered. I learned how to make this stove from the guy who introduced me to backpacking, many years ago.”

“
Your own, personal Yoda?”

“
Sort of, if the little green guy was a danger to himself and others. That guy took me out during a winter thaw in New Hampshire. We were soaked and freezing even before he led us across a frozen creek—and then we fell through the ice. If he kept backpacking, I very much doubt that he’s still alive. But he made a mean stove.”

S
cott removed a screw from a hole in the top of the central cylinder and squirted alcohol in from a squeeze bottle. He then drizzled fuel on the plate. Lighter in hand, he paused.

“
Do you want to take a turn with the stove?”

“
No thanks. I just think it’s a cool long-way round to do something as simple as cooking a meal.”

R
ollo set to work gathering twigs while Scott placed the pot—now filled with water—over the hissing stove. He searched under logs and rocks for dry wood, which he dropped into his canvas hat. When the hat was full, he gathered several rocks as a combination windbreak and pot-stand, within which he quickly built a teepee of sticks and grass. Wisps of steam were already escaping from Scott’s pot when Rollo touched a match to his construction.

“
You sure you don’t want to borrow the stove?”

“
No thanks.”

R
ollo placed a small, soot-blackened pot over the fire and filled it with water. He threw in a handful of rice and another of dried vegetables, then began shaving pieces of jerky into the mixture. As he worked, he watched Scott pour boiling water into a thick plastic bag held by Lani. The water swirled around a dry mixture in the bag, which the woman sealed and put aside.

R
ollo ostentatiously sniffed at his own concoction and gave it a stir with a battered metal spoon. He tasted it, added a dash of salt, and then tasted it again.

L
ani picked up her bagged meal, jerked a hand away from the scalding-hot package, and then grabbed a bandana to use as a potholder. She gave the bag a squeeze, distributing the rapidly disappearing liquid throughout the saturated solid food. She unsealed a corner and sniffed at the escaping wisp of steam. She smiled approvingly, and then resealed the bag.

R
ollo returned to stirring his pot.

“
Oh for Christ’s sake,” Scott blurted. He produced a plastic spoon from the mesh bag and grabbed the meal from his girlfriend. He tossed the hot bag from hand to hand before dropping it to the ground, unsealing the zip-lock and plunging his spoon in.

“
It’s ready,” he muttered around a mouthful of flesh-searing food. He then reached over and helped himself to a spoonful from Rollo’s pot.

“
Needs a few more minutes.”

R
efusing to meet Scott’s eyes with her own, Lani clutched her own spoon and eagerly helped herself to dinner.

R
ollo grumbled.

“
What’re you guys eating?”

“
Chili,” Lani answered. “I dry the veggies at home and Scott makes the jerky. We mix the dry ingredients together in the bag so we just have to add boiling water and let it sit for a few minutes to get a meal.”

“
Neat-o,” Rollo muttered.

S
cott snorted.

“
I’m having beef stew,” Rollo added, un-prompted. “I make my own jerky too.”

“
And very good jerky it is,” Scott offered.

R
ollo grumbled again.

“
I wonder what the khaki-shirted bastards are eating.”

Chapter 29

“
Are you going to share that Power Bar?” Jason asked.
“What for?” Ray snarled. “Eat your own food.”

J
ason glanced down at his bag of gorp—mixed raisins, nuts, M&Ms and the like—shrugged and took another mouthful. He chewed slowly, swallowed, and then surveyed his small band.

T
erry sat on the ground with his knees under his chin and his arms wrapped around his shins. From time to time his right hand disappeared into his rain jacket pocket, emerging clutching a small, unidentifiable morsel which he guided to his lips. His eyes remained fixed forward, unfocused.

B
ob, Rena and Samantha shared a large bag full of jerky. Samantha offered a chunk, which Jason gratefully accepted. He washed it down with a mouthful of water. The water tasted much better now that they’d dumped out their store and refilled the containers from puddles left by the rain.

“
Thanks. It’s good.” He offered some gorp in return.

“
Rena shot the cow herself.”

R
ay grunted, a sound that Jason ignored.

“
Really?”