Page 31 of A Rebel's Shot

“Unfortunately, we were kind of neighbors.” Tiikâan played up his annoyed groan.

“How can you kind of be neighbors?” Her forehead furrowed.

“We both lived about forty miles south of Tok.” Declan snagged a tortilla chip from the bowl, dragged it through the restaurant’s homemade salsa, and popped it in his mouth.

Tiikâan was so full from the enchiladas verdes he’d just eaten, he couldn’t imagine how Declan could still be hungry.

Declan continued talking around the bite. “There’s a place where the original highway cuts away from the new one and meets back with it about fifteen miles south.”

“Manners, dude.” Tiikâan tossed a balled-up napkin at Declan when he went for another chip. “We don’t want to see you smacking on your cud.”

“Right, sorry.” He cringed and dropped the chip. “I think I might hang with teens too much.”

“It’s okay.” Merritt bit her bottom lip, her eyes twinkling.

“Anyway, the old highway used to go all the way through until the Rebels got all territorial and blew it up.”

Tiikâan burst out laughing. “That’s not what happened, and you know it.”

“You all got tired of people driving down there and invading your place,” Declan countered.

“No. The bridge over the creek was crumbling, and the state wasn’t doing anything about it.”

Declan shook his head. “Nope. I distinctly remember while your dad attached the dynamite to the bridge that he groused about tourists buzzing about bothering him and how he was going to take care of it if the DOTwasn’t.”

Remembering Dad ranting about the inefficiency of the government and always being prepared to take care of things on your own while Tiikâan and his siblings handed Dad the duct tape, containers of tannerite, fuses, and anything else he needed brought a smile to Tiikâan’s lips.

“Your dad really blew up a highway bridge with dynamite?” Merritt’s eyes widened. “How the heck did he get dynamite?”

Tiikâan shrugged. “His family used to use it gold mining sometimes.”

“And he just kept that around the house?”

Merritt’s incredulous tone made his lip twitch. She’d probably blow a gasket if she knew all the stuff Dad kept around “just in case.”

“You never know when it might come in handy.” Tiikâan took a sip of water to keep from laughing at Merritt’s disbelieving face.

Her mouth opened and shut twice before she asked, “Did he get in trouble?”

“Nah.” He set his water on the coffee table. “We all cleaned it up so it wasn’t a hazard, helped Dad weld a barrier on both sides from guard rails we had lying around, and put signs both on the bridge and where the roads turned off the main highway to warn travelers.”

“How could he blow up government property and not get in trouble?”

“Well, technically the bridge was ours. The road wasn’t maintained by the state anymore, and we owned the property on both sides of the creek––”

“And pretty much the entire mountainside and all the way to the highway,” Declan interrupted.

Tiikâan rolled his eyes and continued. “The DOT guys were relieved they didn’t have Dad hounding them anymore and another project to add to their never-ending list of projects they couldn’t keep up with. So, I think it just never got mentioned to anyone who would raise a stink.”

“Unbelievable.” Merritt huffed out a breath.

“That’s small-town Alaska for you.” Tiikâan’s phone rang his dad’s ringtone, a funny 80s-style jingle about dad that ended in “boogie woogie woogie.” “Speak of the devil.”

“Dude, that ringtone is ridiculous.” Declan snorted, then leaned over to Merritt and whispered, “It’s the exact opposite of Arne Rebel.”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, bud.” The strain in Dad’s voice caused Tiikâan to sit up.

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