Page 97 of Eco-Activist's Mountain Men
"Graceful as an elephant," Toby mutters under his breath. So I jump on him.
Within a few moments, Jack, Eric, Toby, and I are all playfighting. Armed with just pillows and with shoes off, we all gang up on Toby, who puts up a strong defense at first, but ultimately, he's overcome, and he surrenders. We all collapse in a giggling heap, panting heavily from the exertion.
"Hey, what the fuck are you guys doing in there?"
"Oh Jesus, it's Luke, he's still in the kitchen," Jack exclaims.
"Best leave him there. Teach him a lesson for being so huge," suggests Toby, sniggering.
"I'll go get him," offers Eric, and heads out the door in the direction of the kitchen.
We pass the evening in bed together, a line of us, all huddled up into a stack of bodies, leaning against each other, and propped up against walls and pillows. Eric is rubbing my feet, whilst I play with Toby's long hair. The laptop is set up just out of reach but within easy watching distance, and we all keep an eye on it. At one stage, the moon rises, and the image floods with extra silvery light, revealing a couple of deer in the idle distance—perhaps ten yards away or so—grazing delicately on a bush that presumably tastes better than all the others.
We watch them until they move on, slowly moving left to right across our field of vision until they gradually exit our view entirely as they step back into the gloom of the surrounding forest.
We talk.
We tell each other stories about our pasts, our childhoods, our parents, and families. We talk about our ambitions, ourfears, our secret crushes when we were teenagers. We argue good naturedly about music genres—Jack swears blind that nothing good has been produced since the Seventies and that no one will ever come close to Elvis as a performer. Luke turns out to be a bit of a heavy rock guy, with Metallica being his favorite band. Eric surprises us all with his eclectic knowledge of all types of music, from reggae to jazz, and from hip-hop to Motown soul. As for Toby, he just likes a catchy tune and says he's more than happy listening to anything that comes on the radio, from the Beach Boys to Katy Perry. I educate them all on the beauty of Lo-Fi artists such as Joji and Powfu.
Eventually, one by one, snuggled up warm and comfortable in each other's arms, we close our eyes and drift off to sleep.
CHAPTER 28
Toby
"Oh Jesus Christ!"
I awake, startled and disoriented, half asleep still, eyes half open. Takes me a moment or two to remember where I am and why. Oh yes… the briefing room. The need for all of us to be together. Tim Collier.
Tim Collier!
I open my eyes completely. Eric is standing by his laptop, which quite obviously has gone into Sleep mode, after being left overnight whilst we all forgot about monitoring the tracks and went to sleep.
Oops.
Still… perhaps better to have gained some decent rest. Give us energy for today. Will we need it? Will Collier even come? I'm fifty/fifty. Men make threats all of the time, but most don't follow through.
That said, and judging from everything Luna's said about him, and from the little we know about his background, if there's one man whowillfollow through on his threats and turn them into promises, it's this guy.
"We forgot to monitor the screen last night," says Eric. "We just fell asleep. He could be here. He could be anywhere."There's a slight rise in tone that almost suggests the onset of panic. I'd better watch that. Can't have Eric making a fool of himself. Not today, anyway, and not like this.
"Yeah," I agree. "Bunch of fucking idiots, huh?" I stand up, stretch, and start hunting for my clothes that are presumably in amongst a jumbled heap of pants, shirts, and so on in one corner of the room.
I lay my hand on Eric's arm and look him in the eye. He's taking this harder than the rest of us. He hasn't had the experiences that the rest of us have had. School, then college. Also, he's younger—just a couple of years older than Luna. She's twenty-four, so he's what—twenty-six, twenty-seven? At forty-one, I've always considered myself to be the youthful member of the gang. Suddenly, I feel old.
"Don't worry, Eric. There are five of us, including Luna, and only one of him. That's if he comes at all." Eric smiles his gratitude for the encouragement, but still looks doubtful. I squeeze his arm. "Come on, buddy, and bring the laptop. Let's you and me go make breakfast for this bunch of losers."
Breakfast is subdued, with none of our usual good-natured banter. We discuss calling the police—yet again—and come to the same decision as we'd come to each time the topic had been raised. There is no point, because what could the police do about it, realistically? As things stood, it was just a threat. He couldn't be arrested for making a threat. Anyway, how would they find him, assuming he really is on his way here?
What we do agree, is that just for today, we'll all stick together as a group. That way, if Collier shows up, he'll need to come through the rest of us if he wants to get to Luna. We make the kitchen our base, with two rifles and the shotgun loaded and ready for action if necessary.
We decide not to go outside unless it's necessary, despite it promising to be a glorious day, with the late September sunshinejust peeping through the trees to the east at this early hour, and only the very gentlest of breezes shimmering the tops of the trees like a lover's caress. So very different to the wild wind and battering hail on the day of that storm—the day that Luna arrived and sent all of our lives hurtling into such a different direction to that which any of us could possibly have predicted, or even dreamed about. The whole thing indeed seems like one long dream. Maybe it is. Maybe I'll wake up and share a laugh with brother Jack about the ridiculous imaginings I have dreamed of all night.
Maybe.
After breakfast, Luke heads across to the chainsaw shed and drags one of his big old 60cc Husqvarnas back with him. He starts taking it apart on the kitchen table and fiddling with it, presumably to give it a service, or clean its insides, or do whatever needs doing to it.
Jack always has paperwork to do—even if these days much of it is on a laptop rather than actually on paper. He and Luna get in a huddle at the opposite end of the kitchen table to Luke and his chainsaw, giving Jack the chance to run Luna through the financial details of what she's actually bought, and showing her the management information we keep and generally updating her on how we operate as a business. Not a side to the outfit that I am any good at, or indeed interested in, to be honest.
