“So, what are you?” One of the men asked.
“What am I? A reporter for the Seattle Examiner,” Mac said puzzled.
“No, what are you? Black? Mexican?”
Mac snorted. He started to use his usual line about not even his mother knew for sure, but he reconsidered. If they made some crack about his mother, he’d have to pound them into the ground for it, and his food would get cold. “I’m white,” he said. “As if it matters.”
“It matters,” the man said. “I’m not sure I believe you, and it does matter.”
Mac shook his head. “And you’re a racist fucker who needs his ass handed to him,” Mac said levelly. “Fortunately for you, this food is excellent, and I’m hungry. But if you’re going to talk like that? I suggest you find a different table, before you piss me off and I decide pounding on you is more interesting than breakfast.”
“You think you could?” the man blustered.
“Ah man, don’t be stupid,” Angie said, as she slid onto the bench next to him. “He’s a Marine. You? You’re out of breath from a three-mile stroll through the woods on a freaking path.”
“So, are you fucking him as well as working with him?” the guy asked.
Angie took a deep swallow of coffee. She ate some eggs, then a bite of toast. Mac watched her. He could punch the guy for it, but it looked like she had something in mind. So, he waited for it.
And then she threw the contents of her plate in the man’s face.
“What the hell?” the man shouted as he jumped up to brush himself off.
Angie drank more of her coffee. She snagged a piece of toast off Mac’s plate. Mac started laughing. Because damn, the girl had no backup in her.
Even asshole’s buddy was snickering now.
“Hated to waste good food,” Angie said with a shrug. “But there’s plenty.” And she got up and headed back to the breakfast buffet. The man started to go after her, and Mac stood up. But Ken Bryson beat him to it.
“I wouldn’t,” he said quietly. “It’s a long hike out of here if you have to do it on foot. And quite frankly? I don’t think you could.”
“Are you threatening me?” he blustered.
Ken tilted his head to one side as if he was considering the question. “Yes, I am,” he said. “Leave her alone. She’s doing her job. She’s pleasant, she doesn’t complain and she doesn’t pick fights. And quite frankly, she’s in better physical condition than the lot of you. I’d hire her in a moment. You? You’re a worthless piece of shit. If I left you behind out here? I’d be doing the world a favor.”
The man swung at him. Ken just moved minimally so that his punch missed.
Mac grimaced. “Jesus, man,” he said. “If you can’t throw a better punch than that, you shouldn’t pick fights.” He stood up walked around the table.
“This is what a punch should look like,” Mac said, and he punched him in the gut. The man doubled over. “Did you see it? Let’s do it again.” He punched again, hitting his kidneys.
“Enough,” Bryson said. “If you hit him again, he’ll puke, and we’ll have to smell it for the rest of the trip.”
Mac snorted, and he went to refill his plate and find a different table to sit at. He wondered about the confrontation. The men seemed more on edge today than they had last night. More aggressive. He frowned.
“You shouldn’t have hit him,” Angie said as she sat down next to him. “Now he has something to prove.”
Mac grunted. “He can try,” he said. “Have you noticed a difference this morning? They seem more on the prod?”
She looked around the camp at the men. Took a sip of coffee.
“Yeah,” she conceded. “But I can’t see why. Can’t think of anything that changed. So maybe they’re just riding high on the excitement? Looking forward to things to come?”
“Wonder if some of these guys are repeats?” Mac asked. “Did you hear Bryson, by the way? He’s ready to hire you. Want a weekend gig?”
She laughed, then smiled wistfully. “If my photog shifts were more predictable, I might. I love it out here.”
Rand sat down at their table. “He wasn’t joking,” he said. “You might talk to him. It’s a way to get out here to enjoy the wilderness and not pay a fortune like these jokers do.”
“So, we were just saying that they seem to be looking for trouble this morning,” Mac said. “More so than yesterday. Riled up by what’s to come?”
Rand shrugged. “They’re assholes,” he said. “They’re mid-level managers who think they should be Khan with their own fiefdom, pretty women at their feet, and an arsenal behind their throne. They get out here and get jazzed by thinking they’re survivalists now.”
“Jeez, man, tell us what you really think,” Mac said, laughing now.
Rand sighed. “Yeah, I shouldn’t be saying things like that,” he said. “They’re bringing in the money for Bryson, and that means money for me and the other crew members. But I prefer any other group besides these jokers. And that’s no lie.”
“So, what’s on the agenda next?” Angie asked.
“For me? Dishes. And then prep for lunch,” he said and grinned at her. “But I think they get to shoot guns at targets nailed to trees. You know, as opposed to targets at a range.”
“It is different, though,” Mac conceded. “A range is straight lines. Out here? They have to line themselves up. How bad is their aim?”
Rand shrugged. “Haven’t shot anyone by accident yet.”
Mac studied him for a moment. “Shot anyone deliberately?”
Rand didn’t answer. He just got up and took his plate back into the crew area.
Angie looked after him. “Odd man,” she said. “I like him. I even think I trust him. But....”
Mac finished his breakfast. “But he’s not what he’s pretending to be.”
“Is that what I’m picking up on?” she asked. She
