'Here.' Sam dropped his pack to the ground. 'We can see it all from here and still have time to run if they spot us.'
'Run where?' Linda asked.
'Run and run,' Sam answered the edgy question. 'Run. Hide. Then run some more. Until it's time to make a stand and fight it out.'
'When will that be?' Again, the questioner was Linda.
'When it's time,' Sam told her, patience in his tone. 'I'll know.'
'How?' she pushed him for a firm answer.
Nydia gave him a look that said all her past suspicions were returning.
'I can't give you a flat, firm answer to that.' Sam looked at the flat plain that contained the dark circle of stones. The altar, although Sam could just barely make out, held a vivid white slash across its top. 'But I'll know.'
His answer did not satisfy the young woman, but she shut up.
'1 wonder what their reaction will be when they discover we're gone?' Nydia asked.
'Rage and hate,' Sam said, shifting the Thompson from left hand to right. He looked at Linda. 'Can you fire a weapon?'
She shook her head. 'My dad never allowed them in the house. He said guns kill people.'
'People kill people,' Sam said, rebutting her statement. He glanced at Nydia, and she picked up the unspoken question from his thoughts.
'I can shoot. Rifle, shotgun, pistol.'
'All right!' Sam smiled.
'But I've never had to shoot at a human being,' she added.
'These aren't human beings,' Sam reminded her.
Linda shifted her butt on the ground. Nydia put her hand to the side of her neck, touching the tiny bite marks. They itched. She wondered what had bitten her. 'What time is it, Sam?'
'Eleven-thirty, Eastern time,' Ralph said to his wife, 'We'd better get into position.'
She grinned at him.
'Old lady,' he returned the grin, 'you are a wanton woman.'
'I'm a-wantin' you,' she aped a southern accent. 'Again.'
'See me next week, some time.' He zipped up his jacket.
'Getting old, eh?'
Ralph waggled his eyebrows and grinned lewdly at his wife. He stepped out into the cold mountain air of the Sierra Nevada range, striding purposefully to the small observatory he had built on one of the highest peaks of that range. His wife was only seconds behind him.
'Wait up,' she called, and he stopped, holding out his hand.
'What's the matter, old woman—did I wear you out?'
'Dream on, stud.' She squeezed his hand. They walked for a few seconds in silence, his wife breaking the mood by asking: 'Ours has been a good marriage, hasn't it, Ralph?'
'Any better and I couldn't have stood it,' he joked.
'No, I'm serious, honey.'
'It's been the best, and I mean that. Why are you asking that at this time?' He stopped, looking at her in the brightness of starlight. Stars that seemed close enough to reach out and touch.
'It's just … well, we enjoy … it so much. You know what I mean? Sometimes I think we enjoy it too much.'
He laughed aloud, pulling her to him. 'Honey, you worry about the darnedest things. Nowhere in the Bible—that I can find—does it say a married man and woman can't enjoy all the slap and tickle they can handle. And I think if I ever find that passage, I'll just ignore it; pretend like I didn't see it. I might even petition … someone to get it thrown out.'
She smiled. 'They have been good years, Ralph. I wouldn't trade them for anything. I mean that.'
'You're in a very reflective mood this evening. Why?'
'You know I always get that way when we come up here. It's ... a feeling of being so close to all things that really matter.'
'A feeling of being closer to Him?'
'Yes,' she said softly.
'Well … so do I, honey. That's why I love to come up here.'
She kissed him and said, 'Let's go view the Heavens.'
'What time is it now, Sam?' Nydia asked.
' 'Bout three minutes later than the last time you asked me.' He grinned, white teeth flashing against the tan of
