"Well, what about it? We ready to go?" Dane asked.
The older man scratched his beard thoughtfully and paused, his smirk just visible in the light of the kerosene lantern.
"I know, I know," the lanky teen said. "I'm in charge for this one. I've checked both bags, gone over everything. I just...." He trailed off.
"'No training wheels,' remember?" Byron said. "Your words, not mine. You're the boss this time."
"But you'd tell me if I'd forgotten something, right?" Dane asked.
"You're not always going to have me to go over everything. You've got to be able to trust yourself to do the research, the acquisition, even train your own people. You can't assume that you can trust anyone to spot a problem if you haven't been able to spot it yourself."
Dane was silent, checking his watch in the light. Ten minutes from go/no go. He looked back at Byron, a little pleadingly. The older man shrugged.
"If you'd forgotten something that could ruin everything, yeah, I'd tell you."
"In that case, umm, any last minute advice?"
Byron's face softened. "Yeah. I wouldn't be going along if I thought this was going to end with us dead or in jail. Stay calm, stay on your toes, and stick with the plan. It's just another job."
"For you," Dane said, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He sat up straighter, clearing the uncertainty from his mind — at least, as much as he could.
"Okay," Dane said, his voice a little gruffer, a little deeper. "Supplies are packed and double-checked, we both know what to do. Game time."
He turned off the lamp.
"Yes Sir," his father answered, smiling in the darkness.
It was just before five in the morning, and Ana could sense the woods stirring already. She was still getting used to the isolation of rural Washington. Her parents had only bought this house in unincorporated Trappers Bend a couple years ago. She'd been out here a few times since they'd died, and hadn't minded being alone. But it was different this time, knowing she was staying overwinter. It changed her relationship to the place. Whatever power the isolation, darkness, and wind had over her mood wouldn't dissipate harmlessly back at her old apartment. She'd get used to the loneliness, or she'd drown in it.
Ana rubbed her face, as much to work this unaccustomed melancholy from her thoughts as to wake up. It had actually been a good stay so far. She'd come up too late in the season to get any major work done on the house, but her late parents' caretaker, Karl had already fixed the minor plumbing problem and patched the little leak in the roof above the kitchen. She'd even managed to work out handshake deals with contractors to do some repairs and remodeling in the spring. Aside from some last-minute chores and shopping, she was ready to make it through the winter, with enough work to stay busy, and plenty of books to keep her entertained. And assuming her somewhat flaky but otherwise irresistible friend Candace made it out, she'd be far from lonely when the snow hit.
Yesterday had been her first real day off since she'd gotten here, and it had been a delight. She'd handled a few morning errands, and then spent the afternoon in the woods — just bundled up, found a spot, and plopped herself down to spy on the fauna. She'd sat perfectly still for what must have been at least a few hours, watching a family of deer graze only a few feet away. But just as the mother raised her head, Ana had heard the sound of scampering in the undergrowth and looked over, scaring the deer off.
It had been a rabbit, she was almost sure — she'd caught a flash of a white tail out of the corner of her eyes. Although she supposed it could have been the white tail of the fleeing deer she'd seen, and some other little scurrying creature disrupting her vigil. Well whatever it was, if it insisted on scaring off the deer, today she'd watch it instead.
So she'd gotten up early to get the jump on what she hoped were rabbits, returning to their thicket to catch them just before sunrise, when they were at their most active. Ana knew almost nothing about tracking, and not much more about animals. Aside from a brief and tragic episode with a mouse, she'd never had a pet growing up, and she'd never really had the time or the interest in college. But with a year off her grad program and virtually uninhabited forest all around, she'd developed a keen interest in her little scampering neighbors. Her studies could wait for the snow.
The Internet was on the fritz again, so Ana stuck her head out to check the temperature as the coffee finished brewing. It was definitely colder than yesterday, although a pair of thick socks would probably make up the difference. She filled her thermos with coffee, grabbed a banana and a few granola bars, and carefully placed the food in her backpack, alongside a notebook, a couple extra pens, a flashlight, and her compact first aid kit.
Out on the deck, the sauna was gently steaming through the cover. For a moment Ana considered calling off the early morning excursion and starting her day off with a relaxing soak instead. But no, there'd be time to do that when she got back. How much more satisfying it would be after spending the morning in the forest. She smiled, picturing the momentary sting of cold as she stripped down, then lowered herself into the tub to melt in the heat.
Ana looked out over the railing, just barely discerning the edge of the clearing where it darkened into the forest. She took a sip of coffee, listening to the breeze. She could almost pass the morning right here, just listening to the wind lightly rustling the trees, darting through the little paths and meanders leading off into the underbrush. But the sky was already starting to lighten. It was time to be on her way.
Ana took another glance behind her as she closed the gate, descended the short stairway, and walked down the path that wound around the deck. It was chillier out in the open than she'd anticipated. The deck was bounded by the house on two sides, and an awning from the door to the hot tub provided a sheltered alcove, which had made the weather seem more temperate than it really was. Maybe a change of plan was in store after all. An early morning soak sounded lovely, and it's not like the rabbits wouldn't be there tomorrow.
And there was something else too, some vague sense she had that this was the wrong day to go out. She was heading into national forest land, where there weren't many people around this time of year. The few she'd met had been either harmoniously indifferent or quite pleasant. Still, there'd been moments yesterday where she'd had the distinct feeling that someone was watching her. The precise moments, she'd forgotten, but the unease remained.
Ana pushed the thought out of her head. In her earth tone fall jacket, old jeans, and comfy, ratty three wolf sweatshirt, she was sure she looked like a small bundle of nothing in particular, her red hair, her only mark of distinction. With a round, pretty face and soft curves, Ana could attract attention when she wanted to, but she felt safely anonymous out here. She doubted she'd so much as see anyone today, let alone face any danger.
Still — she reached into her backpack and pulled out a suitably indistinct hat. She felt better. Warmer.
The path followed a stream that wound across the property, merging with a river (little more than a stream itself this late in the year) and wending off into the forest. The little path — no more than a depression in the grass and underbrush — crossed into the state park with nothing to mark the transition but a decrepit old Private Property sign. People were known to miss the sign and wander onto the land from time to time, or enter it further down, where a little park bridge crossed the river into a clearing that marked the boundary of the property. She decided to take the path through the park this time, following the river to edge of the woods, then taking a trail into the clearing where she'd spotted the deer.
Ana squinted off into the trees, listening for footfalls. It was very dark and quiet, all alone save for the first morning birds. She relaxed, stepping onto the wooden boardwalk spanning a section of marsh that was almost dry this late in the year. She gently grasped the weathered rail, her eyes sharp for signs of her quarry and froze at the tiny scrape of a footfall through the nearby leaf litter. She was coming up on the spot where she'd seen the rabbit run off into the brush, but the sound she'd heard was confusing. Too heavy for a rabbit, but too close for a deer.
