The big bull mastodon made a sudden basso huffing sound and turned away from the Rangers. It moved away through the reeds and on toward the open water of the lake. The rest of the herd followed along, flattening reeds and churning the water a muddy brown.
Jimbo held a hand flat and lowered it toward the water.
“Slow,” he said softly. The Rangers followed his example and moved away to the left to get out of the way of the lumbering animals.
They came out of the reeds and climbed a muddy slope to where a dense pine forest ringed the shoreline as far around as they could see. The slope was trampled to stinking muck with the passage of the elephant herd now standing somewhere out on the water. Their bleats echoed from somewhere out behind them. A misting rain had begun that reduced visibility to fifty yards in any direction.
Exhausted and chilled, they dropped to the forest floor.
“What now?” Chaz said with an arm thrown over his eyes.
“Inventory,” Dwayne said and sat with his back against a tree bole.
It was a sad collection of gear that remained. No rifles or ammo. They had their botas and a few protein bars. The special wristwatches Doc Tauber was so proud of had gotten soaked, and the bands parted. The boots were nearly useless. The water had weakened the vegetable-based glue that held them together, and the soles and uppers were peeling apart. The socks were holding up surprisingly well, as were the BDUs.
“Find the two pairs of boots in the best shape,” Dwayne said. “And save all the laces.” The boot laces were leather and had lots of uses. They made a pathetic pile of soggy belongings.
“Now your holdouts,” Dwayne said and met each man with a hard expression.
“What?” Chaz said. All innocence.
“Don’t bullshit me,” Dwayne said. “I’ve been with you guys too long. There’s no way all of you followed the rules. Or any of you.”
Jimbo shrugged and dug a six-inch clasp knife out of a cargo pocket on his leg. Renzi sat hunched forward with his head in his hands. “Yeah?”
“Give it up,” Dwayne said, standing over him with his hand out.
“What the fuck you talkin’ about?” Renzi’s voice was a weak rasp, but the defiance was still there.
“You have a hideaway. You always have a hideaway.”
Renzi reached into a cargo pocket, and his hand came back with a silver Zippo lighter engraved with RLTW (Rangers Lead The Way)
“Chaz?” Dwayne said.
Chaz dropped a black two-barrel derringer with rubber grips onto the pile.
Dwayne opened the derringer. Two .22 magnum rounds sat in place.
“Any more ammo, Chaz?” Dwayne said. “Naw.” Chaz grinned. “Two rounds was enough to give me the last word.”
They made a fire of pine needles and driftwood and banked it with earth all around to hide the glow. The smoke would be invisible in the misting drizzle that continued to fall. They stripped out of the BDUs down to skivvies and set the clothes around the fire to dry. Chaz washed Renzi’s wound. There was a gash to his scalp, but the bleeding had slowed. His skull was intact but all the signs of head trauma were there. All Chaz could do was squirt some antibiotic gel on it and seal the cut with liquid bandage from the med kit. Renzi was fighting hard not to fall asleep or pass out. They were all wasted and appreciated how much harder their buddy was having it. They took turns prodding him awake.
None of them expected any kind of pursuit right away. The skinnies across the lake would still be licking their wounds after the hurt the Rangers put on them the night before. Depending on how motivated they were, the skinnies would eventually make their way around the shoreline looking for signs of where the four strangers emerged from the water. Or maybe the prehistoric assholes would just assume the four men had drowned as they would have if they entered water over their heads.
Dwayne cleared a patch of ground of pine needles and drew a rough circle in the dirt with a stick.
“We’re somewhere on the north shore,” he said and scratched an “x” in the dirt at the top of the circle. “The mesa and the compound are above the east shore. Somewhere…here.” He waved the stick to the right of the drawing.
“Where the compound will be,” Chaz added. “A long, long time from now.”
“Like my head don’t hurt enough already, you have to bring up that kind of shit,” Renzi groaned.
“What’s next?” Jimbo said and met Dwayne’s eyes.
“You guys still want to follow my lead?” Dwayne regarded them. “I brought you into this clusterfuck.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Chaz said after a moment. The other two said nothing.
“Okay,” Dwayne said. “Chaz, you’re going to take Ricky out of here. And no shit from you, Ricky. You have a bruised brain and need it looked at. Chaz will bring you up to the mesa, and both of you wait for the field to open and go back to The Now. Jimbo and I will stay behind.”
“To accomplish what, exactly?” Chaz said. “To stay on post,” Jimbo said.
“Right. We can’t just walk away now,” Dwayne said. “They’re holding the doc’s sister. Me and Jimbo will set up a hide over the skinnies’ camp and keep an eye on them.”
“She’s slow-roasting by now, Dwayne,” Chaz said.
“I don’t think so. They had her painted and strung her with necklaces. They didn’t do that to their other kills, and they made sure they didn’t kill her when she was trying to stop them from taking Kemp.
