Page 46 of Fire Peak

She shivered, listening to the detached, professional way he spoke about her, even though he winked at her while he left that message. It gave her the chills, and reaffirmed the reality that she really didn’t know Nick Perini.

Back at the lodge, she saw that the light was on in April’s office. April knew all about Bulldog. Why not ask her? Obviously, it wasn’t her favorite topic, since she never mentioned him. But it might be worth a try.

Outside April’s door, she started to knock, then paused at the sound of her boss’ voice. She was talking to someone on the phone in an urgent, unhappy tone of voice.

Eavesdropping is bad, Charlie scolded herself. Then, It’s not eavesdropping if you can’t understand anything she’s saying.

Besides, she had no ability to control her curiosity. She leaned closer to the door and focused intently on the one-sided conversation. “You can’t do that”… something something…”we had a deal” … something something… “that would devastate this entire”… something something… ”you back-stabbing motherfucker” …

Okay then. April really did swear like a sailor. But who on earth could she be talking to? What would be devastated?

April’s voice got louder—shit, she was coming toward the door. Charlie skipped away, disappearing around the corner just in time before catching the sound of April’s door swinging open.

Eavesdropping is bad, she reminded herself as she took the stairs two at a time toward her own tiny room in the staff quarters. And we should really think about that curiosity killed the cat thing.

The next day, she signed out two of the lodge’s Polaris side-by-side four-wheelers for their trip to the spot where Elias had found the dead birds. The ATVs always made her think of toy zoom-zoom cars, but they were perfect for some of the trails around Fire Peak Lodge.

Since Hailey and Elias wanted to share one, Charlie rode with Nick. Or rather, he rode with her, since she was responsible and therefore claimed the right to the controls. Cruising down the trail, dodging spruce branches that swept down to brush their faces, catching the startled flight of thrushes in the underbrush, or the raucous chatter of squirrels overhead, was an exhilarating experience.

“Do you always drive like this?” Nick had to raise his voice over the rattle of the engine. “Never mind, I already know the answer to that.”

She made a face at him, but she was having too much fun with this ride to take offense. “No one in a car chase has the right to criticize the driving of the person they were chasing.”

“Says who?”

“Um…Furiosa, from Mad Max. My mentor.”

He laughed and held on tight to the grip bar as they hit a dip in the trail.

Eventually they reached the intersection where the wider trail went one way and the foot trail another. They parked the four-wheelers off the trail, took a moment to indulge in a quick snack of trail mix, then shouldered their day packs and headed into the sunlit woods.

Before long, they reached a meadow filled with yarrow and blueberry bushes loaded with unripe green fruit. “I bet this is serious bear territory later in the summer,” Nick murmured.

A strange stillness hovered over the field, pretty though it was. Nothing seemed to be moving, as if the air itself was afraid to take a breath. Hailey’s chatter, which had been punctuated by Elias’ deeper-voiced responses, died away. No one said a word as they waded through the meadow grass.

And then—there they were. A scattering of maybe a dozen plump birds with striped belly feathers, lying stiff and lifeless on their sides or backs. Flies buzzed around them.

Hailey gagged at the sight and hung back, using the neckline of her shirt to cover her mouth, while the rest of them gathered around the collection of feathered corpses.

“Why does it always come down to birds?” Charlie murmured to Nick. Not so much as a joke, but as a way to deal with the queasiness the scene gave her. “It’s like an outtake from a Hitchcock movie.”

He grunted and crouched next to the closest bird. Pulling out a pair of nitrile gloves, he slid one on and gingerly collected one of the birds and dropped it into a Zip-loc bag.

“What species are these?” he wondered out loud.

“Mostly dark-eyed juncos, some spruce grouse,” Elias said.

“Have you ever seen this happen before?”

Elias took a moment to think it over. Charlie appreciated that about him. He never seemed rushed or pressured by other people’s timelines or expectations. Was that one benefit of being raised away from “civilization?” Or was it part of his neurodivergence?

“Dead birds, yes, but not all together like this.”

“So nothing else that stuck out as unusual, besides this?”

Elias shook his head, then looked around uneasily. “Something feels strange.”

“Strange?”

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