Page 82 of Eco-Activist's Mountain Men
“Okay,” she says softly, eyes locked on him. Intrigued.
“I’m sorry, Luna—but when I retrieved your bag, before I gave it back, I looked inside.”
She blinks, then shrugs. “Go on.”
“There were the usual things—clothes, wallet, phone. But there were also two hotel receipts. Both from the same place in Portland—the SleepEZ. One was dated the night before. Made sense. I figured that’s where you stayed before coming out here.”
Luna shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t speak.
“And the other?” I ask.
Luke’s voice drops. “The other was crumpled and dirty, like it had been stepped on. Same hotel. But dated a week earlier.”
“Oh.” I can’t see the angle yet. But Luna gasps, hand flying to her mouth, face gone pale.
Luke leans toward her. “Luna, I need to know. Where did that second receipt come from?”
She nods, already knowing what he’s getting at. “It was lying on the ground by the Douglas fir. I hate trash, so I picked it up and shoved it in my backpack. I completely forgot about it.”
Luke nods, serious. “That—or something like it—was my suspicion.”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then continues.
“Here’s what I think actually happened. A while ago, this Tim Collier decided the best way to screw over his competitors was to form an activist group. That way, he could target them and hit their reputation. So he creates Kill Climate Change. And he’s subtle—doesn’t go after every competitor, but enough. Enough to cause damage and get headlines. Maybe he even enjoyed it.”
“The bastard,” Toby mutters. Eric looks as sick as I feel. Luna’s eyes blaze like she’s ready to kill.
“Anyway,” Luke continues, “a few months ago, Collier hears a whisper. A certain competitor’s CEO has a wife with cancer, and he’s thinking about selling. Collier jumps. He makes aridiculously low offer. When Pat refuses, Collier decides to up the pressure by making them look unsafe. He tells his crew: Go plant banners on the walkways. Next morning, he’ll swoop in with his chopper and a film crew, get footage, spin the story.
“But secretly, before that day, Collier hikes into the forest himself. He takes new wire cutters—these wire cutters. And he sabotages the walkways. Cuts just enough guide wires so they still look safe… but the first person who walks out onto them falls. Twenty feet. Onto rock.”
“Jesus,” Toby whispers.
“Yes. Deliberate. The plan was for Luna and the other guy to fall—before they even unfurled their banners. Then, when the helicopter arrives? He films it all. Two people lying broken on the ground. No PPE. No safety. The headlines write themselves: incompetent, corner-cutting company kills activists. Outrage. Scandal. Value of the company plummets. Then Collier comes back to Pat, offering that same bargain price—except now Pat’s desperate.”
Luke stops. The silence is thick.
My fists clench. My blood pounds. If this is true, this son of a bitch just signed his own death warrant.
“That’s what he meant!” Luna bursts out, eyes wild. “In his voicemail, he said: ‘Should look great in 4K high-res, with you lying on the ground underneath.’ I never understood. Now I do. The bastard. I swear, I’ll kill him. And when I’m done, my father will kill him again.”
Eric’s voice is quiet but shaking with fury. “If this is true, then Collier is directly responsible for Luna’s fall. For her injuries.”
Luke nods. “Exactly. He set her up. And when the storm ruined the plan, he assumed she bailed. He thinks she’s still waiting in some motel for the new date. He doesn’t know she already fell. He doesn’t know we’re here. He didn’t count on us. Or on Southpaw.”
“Damn right,” Toby mutters.
“So,” I say, voice low. “Collier’s coming back in two days. What are we going to do?”
The table goes silent. Faces grim. All except Luna. She’s lit up, alive with fire.
“Leave it to me, boys. I know exactly what to do.”
We exchange uncertain glances.
“First, I’ll need paint. Red, preferably. Or blue. Something that’ll stand out on white.”
“Uh… yeah. We’ve got plenty,” I say.
