Page 53 of Eco-Activist's Mountain Men
But then I saw the banner tangled up around her when I first found her:
Kill Climate Change
Stop the Logging
Save the Planet
Clear as day, she was one of those activists. Eco-warrior, treehugger, whatever label you want. I’ve got no time for people who make noise, stir up trouble, put others at risk—without lifting a finger to actually do something useful.
The way I see it, we plant more trees in a season than her whole crew will in their lifetimes.
Still, I went back to that site the next day. Looked around. Found her backpack. And something else too.
A pair of wire cutters. Brand new. Already rusting. I thought long and hard about those cutters. The only purpose I could think of was to cut the stays—the wire ropes that extend from the walkway up into the trees, acting like suspension bridge cables to carry the load.
Cut all the wires, and the whole walkway collapses.
But suppose you didn't cut all of them?
Or… suppose you didn't cut them all the way through?
A clever person, armed with wire cutters and enough knowledge of how those walkways are built, could make it look safe—until someone stepped on the right spot. Then wham. Down it comes.
If that's what happened, it changes everything. It's not just trespassing—it's an attempt to cause serious injury or even death.
So… did she do it herself? And if so, why?
Or did someone else do it to her?
I couldn't be sure. But I decided I'd better keep a close eye on her—and find out all I could about Kill Climate Change.
But then, over time, my feelings about her changed. At first, I'd been seriously wary of her, but then, as she'd imposed her personality and character on us during her stay at the lodge, and even though she had some weird ideas about environmentalism and ecology, and despite mistrusting her motives, I'd grown more and more to see her as being a lot like myself.
Oh, superficially, we're like chalk and cheese. I'm big and powerful, she's petite and athletic. I come from a poor background, whereas her daddy is wealthy. I apprenticed into a trade, and she went to college (before dropping out anyway). Different, right? But are those differences really all that important? Or are they just superficial? Because where we are alike is in our commitment to doing what's right, our willingness to help a good cause, our dedication to our friends, and our steadfast approach to following through on our promises.
Worse, I've felt myself become more and more physically attracted to her. There's no denying it, she's cute. Petite—dainty, even—with the pert breasts and firm buttocks of an athlete or gymnast, rather than the long legs and shapely, hourglass figure of say an actress, or model. Hot, though, all the same. As much because of how she carries herself, as just what she looks like. That "fuck you" attitude that basically says she doesn't care what any else thinks, that she doesn't need anyone else's approval to feel good about herself. That's gold dust. I'd never realized before how much it turns me on.
So now I'm kind of stuck. Because Jack's already told me how much he feels for her, and I owe Jack everything. I can't stand in the way of his happiness; it wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't be honorable, not when I owe him so much.
Looking back, I realize how I've allowed myself to take my frustrations out on her. Of course, she took it badly and ran off. That's my fault. I'm the direct cause of her running away like that. If I hadn't been such an asshole, she wouldn't have run off, and she wouldn't have fallen, hit her head, and been knocked out.
Indirectly, then, I am responsible for her getting injured, and if she'd died up there… well, that would have been my fault too. Thank God she hadn't died. At least I don't have that on my conscience. Even so, I owe her.
Carrying her down from the mountainside was just the start of my repayment. My penance. Now I need to find a way to pay back the rest.
And in the meantime, there's another problem, and that is that I still don't trust her.
Whilst I now fully realize I should have gone about it differently, I did have a legitimate point in the kitchen yesterday morning. She's had fresh orders from her climate change activist boss, this Tim Collier character. So far as I can see, those orders are to assist in an activity designed to make McKenzie Forestry Services look bad and damage our reputation. That's where we part ways.
Because I simply cannot allow that.
And now to the worst part of all. Something I am embarrassed to face and confess, even to myself. But if I'm going to have any peace, then I'm going to have to bite the bullet and deal with it.
Last night, I stayed late in the chainsaw shed, finishing off some work I was doing on one of our smaller pruning saws. AsI walked past the building, I noticed the light was on in Luna's bedroom—our medi-bay—and the curtains were not fully drawn. I could hear noises coming from within. Sort of groaning and moaning, and what sounded like furniture being moved. So—and I realize this was a very bad thing to do—I crossed the yard and crept up to the window.
What I saw took my breath away. What I saw was Luna, Jack, and Toby, naked as the day they were born, going at it together on the bed like they were in some kind of porn film or something. I was astounded, rooted to the spot. First in horror—what the hell were Jack and Toby thinking?—and then in anger—youdon't realize what she's planning to do to our company—and finally in jealousy—why the hell should it be them, not me?
But that's not the very worst part of my confession. The very worst part is that I went back to my own room and I… I masturbated. I replayed the images I'd seen of the three of them—kissing, caressing, stroking, and yes, fucking, plain and simple—and I had imagined myself there too, stroking myself to satisfaction whilst thinking of her.
