Page 34 of Wild Child
They were the first words I'd heard from him so far, and he said them to Kimball. His jaw was tense, gaze challenging. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment before Kimball finally nodded.
"The man needs a break," he said brightly. "Thirty minutes should do it."
"No. I want to camp."
Another moment of tense silence swelled. My gaze darted between them in shock. For friends, they really sucked at getting along. Which one would throw the first punch?
"We can make camp here," I said to stave off the rising agitation, "or we can take an hour off, then hike a few more miles before we camp." I eyed Steve. "First night is always the roughest if you're still acclimating."
Again to Kimball, Steve said, "Camp now. We will make up the time tomorrow." His eyebrows rose, as if questioning whether Kimball would challenge him. Kimball smiled in a saccharine way I didn't entirely trust.
"Stevie declares it, and it is so," Kimball said with a sweep of his arms. "We camp here tonight."
Devin stood not far behind me, his pack at his feet. He had a canteen in his hands while he scoured the meadow with his gaze. Then he pointed out a little spot I'd already been eyeing. "That would be a good spot there to camp," he murmured. "Not too close to the creek."
Kimball glanced over. "Being near water is a bad thing?"
"Only because of sound," I replied. "You want to be far enough away that you can still hear."
"Like if something is approaching?"
"Yeah."
"Huh."
"Looks good to me," I said to Devin.
The campsite would be ours alone. I’d never seen another person around here, plus we'd veered off the main trail and through a game track I'd found while hiking with Thor. This meadow wasn’t a well-known part of the mountain. Quaking aspen trees lined the edges of where Devin pointed, fluttering together like bright green coins. Did he remember that I loved the sound of the trees overhead? That seemed like something the old Devin would recall, then camp beneath because he knew I loved it.
Same Devin,I thought.
Yet, it wasn't entirely true.
"Let's set up camp then," I said to stop that thought. "Do you need any help with your tents?"
"I got mine." Kimball rolled to his knees, then sprang up. "Stevie-boy will be sleeping under the stars."
Steve stared into the distance now and didn't say a word. A suspicious feeling started to crawl up my back. Something here wasn't right. Sleeping under the stars wasn't entirely unusual on a backpacking trip, but it was odd for a guy like Steve. Most flatlanders feared animals, even when they slept in a tent. Rarely did they feel comfortable without a canvas covering.
"You sure?" I asked Steve.
He didn't look at me, but he nodded. Kimball grinned, his smile wide, and turned to the meadow.
"So, boss. Where do you want us?"
10
Devin
Thirty minutes after the decision to camp had been made, I called out to Ellie. "Hey, E. Let's go filter some water. I'm almost out."
Ellie glanced up at my casual statement, eyed me for a second, then nodded. She retrieved her water filter from the pack and followed. We strode side-by-side through the knee-high grasses without saying a word. Kimball wrestled the canvas of his tent while Steve lay on the ground, his hat over his face. His even breathing likely meant he'd fallen asleep, but I couldn't really tell if he'd let his guard down like that.
The trees that surrounded the burbling, snow-run-off stream embraced us as we stepped into them. This creek would die down within a few weeks and verdant green hills would crackle into brown under the baking sun. The process of life often struck me as unequivocally sad when spring faded.
Ellie dropped to one knee and unrolled the filter bag. Her furrowed expression made her seem burdened with thought.
"So," I drawled. "Something is weird."
