Page 81 of Badlands

“It’s like a little Eden down there,” said Corrie.

“Hard to believe this was a place of genocidal killing—by Native Americans, no less.”

“Human nature is the same everywhere,” said Corrie. “Violent and tribal.”

“That’s a rather cynical take.”

“Think so? You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I’ve seen in my short time with the FBI. It’s not limited to modern society, either. Studying anthropology, you must’ve learned about a lot of the bad things humans do—right?”

“Maybe, but anthropologists aren’t supposed to judge. We’re trained to accept cultures as they are.”

Corrie gave a short laugh. “We agents are just the opposite. We’re trainedtojudge. It’s our job to know right from wrong—or rather, know the difference between what’s legal and what’s criminal.”

Nora stopped to look at her companion. This was—not for the first time—a more philosophical Corrie Swanson than she was used to. “How’d you end up an FBI agent, anyway?” she asked.

“I guess I have a strong sense of justice—or rather, injustice.” Corrie hesitated. “It started at home, really, with my mother. She was a mean drunk, and she treated me like shit. The local sheriff seemed more concerned with getting in his daily donut quotient than enforcing the law. It pissed me off, and growing up there was nothing I could do, really, but act the rebel… but, I realize now, the older I got, the more I wanted to do something about it. So I became an FBI agent, with the help of our mutual friend. Crime is simply a kind of injustice, imposed on innocent people.”

Nora listened, surprised. “That’s an interesting way of looking at crime.”

“That’s the way our friend in New York sees it.”

They lapsed into silence as they descended into the beautifulvalley. The ridge ended in a lush, grassy benchland—and not a hundred yards distant was Skip and Edison’s camp.

Immediately, Nora saw something was wrong. The tent was partially collapsed, its fabric torn. Stuff lay strewn about.

The campsite had been trashed. She was seized with a feeling of panic.

As they hurried closer, the full dimensions of the wreckage became clear. The fire was dead. A broken tequila bottle lay on the ground. The packs had been opened, their contents pulled out and strewn about, freeze-dried food packets lying around, clothing mingled willy-nilly with camping gear, a trowel, brushes, a compass, and even a pair of night-vision goggles. But what horrified Nora most was the smashed musical instrument tangled up on the ground—Skip’s much-beloved ukulele in turquoise blue.

“Oh my God,” she said, horrified.

Corrie eased her sidearm from its holster and looked around. Dusk had gathered in the canyon, twilight collecting around them.

Feeling sick with dread at what else she might find, Nora got on her hands and knees and stuck her head inside the slashed tent. The sleeping bags were rucked up, but the tent was empty. Then she saw a stain along the edge of the fly. Quickly, she rubbed her fingers on it.

“Corrie, look at this. Blood.” Her insides seized up in dread.

Corrie joined her at the door. “Oh shit,” she said. “Okay, what we have here is a crime scene. Let’s not mess it up anymore—and talk about what we’re going to do.”

Nora tried to get her emotions under control.

“Okay, first thing,” Corrie said, “we call for backup.”

“Backup?” Nora said. “How long will that take? It’s eight thirty. By the time we hike out of here, get in the car, and drive to where there’s reception, it’ll be after midnight. Corrie, we’vegot to do somethingnow. Skip is out there somewhere, very possibly hurt!”

“I understand,” said Corrie. “But, Nora, just think this through. We’ve no idea how many attackers there were, where they are, or why any of this happened. There are only two of us.”

“We can’t just abandon my brother!”

Corrie put both hands on her shoulders. “Nora, we’re not going to abandon anybody. But if we just rush in impulsively—and fail, which is likely—nobody’s going to rescue them… or us.”

Nora was silent for a moment. “We need to at least scope out the situation.”

“Okay. What do you propose?”

“I’m going to climb that hill over there and see what I can see.”

“All right. Maybe it’s not a bad idea to gather some intel. Butcarefully—and stay out of sight.”

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