tags and roof racks full of luggage. Vic and Shane both eased
themselves out of the hybrid, stretching and groaning.
“I hate your car,” Shane muttered as he joined Vic in front
of a wooden information placard.
“We’ll get some bungee cords and I’ll tie you to the roof
rack,” Vic told him distractedly as he read the information
behind the Plexiglas.
Shane grumbled and rubbed at a spot on his back, and
Vic reached forward and grabbed one of the brochures offered
to tourists. It was the same design he’d seen in other national
parks. He flipped it open, scanning the information about the
history of Roanoke Island and Fort Raleigh and the Lost
Colony. He knew the bare bones of the story; that the settlers
here had disappeared, never to be heard from again. It was one
of the great mysteries of history, and America’s oldest.
“Park closes in an hour,” Shane pointed out as he nodded
at the information. “Should be enough time to see it.”
Vic nodded and turned the brochure sideways, peering at
the little map inside. He folded it back up and waved it around
at the trail, just a few yards from where they stood. “After you,”
he offered.
They started off into the wooded area, following the
sidewalk until it abruptly ended and became a dirt path. They
carried on, stopping at each wooden stand that held
information, reading the anecdotes as they went.
When they came to a mound of earth in the middle of a
small clearing, they made their way toward it to examine it. The
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depression within the raised mounds of earth was perhaps ten
feet on each side, roughly square, and Vic realized suddenly
that this was Fort Raleigh.
Shane stood in the middle of it, looking around as he came
to the same conclusion. “Can you imagine this being your last
line of defense?” he asked, raising his hand to indicate where
the wooden stockade fence must have been, high atop the
mounds. “It’d be like trying to fit three dozen people inside your
car,” he said in an amazed voice.
Vic laughed softly and shook his head, trying to imagine
what the fort had looked like with the stockades.
“Shit,” Shane muttered as he walked out of the depression
again. “No wonder they had to clear out,” he said, shaking his
head as he found the trail and started off down it. Vic jogged to
catch him and they walked side by side down the wooded trail.
“How do you get lost on an island?” Shane mused as he
looked around them.
“They didn’t get lost,” Vic pointed out in amusement. “They
disappeared. There’s a difference.”
“Gone is gone,” Shane argued as the underbrush began to
grow thicker. They pushed through it, sweating in the humid
evening as the sun began to set.
It quickly grew dim amidst the trees.
“Think maybe we should head back now?” Vic asked. They
hadn’t seen anything but little plaques talking about what type
of tree they were standing under and how the settlers may have
gathered acorns. The fort had been fascinating just to see how
small it actually was, but Vic would not have driven out here
just for that. They’d soon wandered away from the little
information plaques, not bothering to read them when they
came to them.
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Shane mumbled something and looked behind them,
narrowing his eyes. “Where’s the trail?” he asked as he glanced
at Vic.
Vic looked around, shrugging as he began to fan his face
with the brochure he’d been holding. “I think we may be off the
map,” he said as he pointed toward a lighter area ahead. “Keep
going. We’ll break out eventually.”
When they found sunlight and followed the trail toward it,
breaking out of the wooded area onto a sandy trail, Vic was
surprised to find them standing on a beach. He looked out
across the sound to see land on the other side. Boats and
condos lined the other island. To their right, on their island but
across a wide tributary, was the back side of an amphitheater.
Vic knew they performed an outdoor play here. That had to be
where they did it.
“I don’t think this is the trail,” Shane commented wryly.
Vic turned to glare at him. “We’ll just backtrack,” he
suggested as he gestured toward the way they’d come. “Come
on; it’s hotter than hell,” he muttered.
They wandered around looking for the trail, or any
semblance of a trail, or even anything that looked like it once
had been a trail, and finally when they came to a small
clearing, Shane stopped them and held up his hand.
“Are we lost?” he asked with a smile.
“Shane,” Vic warned.
“Have we managed to get lost at the Lost Colony?” Shane
posed as he began to laugh.
“That’s not funny,” Vic told him, though he was smiling
slightly. He fanned himself with the crumpled brochure, then
wiped at the sweat running down his cheek. It was hot and
muggy beneath the shelter of the trees, where no wind could
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reach them. “I’ve got to start working out again,” he told Shane,
slightly out of breath as they stood there.
Shane shook his head, using the back of his hand to wipe
at his forehead. “Just remind me never to go camping with you.
You’re bad luck,” he claimed as he picked a direction and
started off again.
Vic followed, grumbling. When they finally broke free of the
trees again, they stood on a well-manicured lawn, looking at
the backs of the buildings that made up the restrooms and
information centers and research offices of the park. The
parking lot stretched out on the other side of the buildings.
“Thank God,” Shane grumbled.
“How the fuck did we circle behind the park?” Vic asked as
he wiped at his face again, pulling away bits of the spider web
he’d managed to walk through.
“I don’t care,” Shane declared as he looked at Vic. He
barked a laugh suddenly. “What’d you do to your face?” he
asked as he laughed.
“What? What’s wrong with it?” Vic asked as he poked at
his face experimentally.
“You’ve got black all over you,” Shane snickered as he
swiped his thumb over Vic’s cheekbone. It came back stained a
gray-blue color.
Vic looked down at his fingers. His thumb and forefinger
were stained dark.
“Vic, you didn’t really need war paint,” Shane cackled as
he took the brochure Vic had been holding. The ink had
rubbed off onto his sweaty fingers, and every time he’d wiped at
his face, he’d smeared streaks along his skin.
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“Son of a bitch,” Vic muttered. Then he began snickering
as he wiped at his face with the heel of his hand. “Where is it?”
he asked as he looked at his hand agai
n.
“Here, let me.” Shane stepped closer, taking Vic’s face in
his hands and swiping at the skin with his thumb.
Vic was caught by how the oddly tender gesture made his
stomach tumble. He blinked at Shane in surprise, his chest
fluttering a little as Shane’s fingers rubbed the ink away. They
were surprisingly rough for a man who spent all his time sitting
in a courtroom, but they felt good against Vic’s skin
nonetheless.
He’d never had that reaction to Shane before. Shane didn’t
seem to notice, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried
to wipe the worst of the ink away. Vic swallowed hard, closing
his eyes under the pretense of not being poked in the eye, and
he just let himself enjoy the attention.
“Well… you’re presentable now anyway,” Shane told him
after another moment or two. His voice wavered with
amusement. “Maybe we should find a hotel with a shower first,
then eat,” he suggested.
Vic opened his eyes, looking at Shane in a slightly different
light for a moment. “Yeah,” he finally agreed as they both
turned to head for the car.
When they checked into the first inn they came across, a
building made to look like an old Tudor mansion with exposed
beams painted along the outside, they both were dirty, sweaty,
and slightly giddy from the prospect of food and air-
conditioning that wasn’t solar powered as they drove.
The woman gave them a dubious glance as she processed
Shane’s credit card. “Been a long trip, huh?” she finally asked
as she handed Shane his card back.
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“You have no idea,” they answered in unison.
“These tourist trap places bother me,” Shane grumbled as
they sat at a table near the windows along the water. The
restaurant was full of fishing-themed decorations: nets draped
the walls, large crabs and small painted buoys hung along
them. Other walls were adorned with wooden signs, the type
found in beach stores like Wings and Pacific, with cute little
sayings carved into them.
“So why are we eating here?” Vic asked in amusement. He
enjoyed Shane when he was grumpy, and he wasn’t sure why.
It was endearing, to watch a generally happy man search for
something to complain about.
“Because it was close,” Shane reminded with a disgruntled
huff.
Vic merely smiled at him. Shane narrowed his eyes then
broke into a grin he’d obviously tried and failed to contain.
“At least you’re happier,” he observed, sounding pleased
with himself.
Vic took a moment to analyze the statement. Then he
nodded in agreement. He hadn’t thought of Owen all day. And
it had been a good day. He pursed his lips, trying to conceal
the surprise he felt at that realization.
“I guess some things are better when they end,” he said as
he moved his shrimp around with his fork.
Shane watched him carefully. “You really mean that?” he
finally asked dubiously.
Vic looked up at him curiously.
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“I mean… you’re saying if Owen called you right now and
asked you to come back, you wouldn’t go?” Shane clarified.
Vic immediately shook his head. “I am determined,” he
said forcefully. “It’ll be better if we both just move on to other
things. Better things. That’s my goal for the next month. When
I get home, I won’t need him anymore.”
Shane was silent in response. When Vic looked up at him
to see his reaction, Shane was watching him speculatively.
“What?” Vic asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“I think you might actually mean that,” Shane observed,
his eyes narrowed.
Vic nodded again, emphatically. “Life’s too short to spend
it pining away for something you’ll never have.”
Shane jerked just slightly in reaction, blinking and looking
away to break their eye contact, but then he nodded and
reached for his drink to take a sip. “You’re right,” he said
approvingly when he put the glass down.
Vic wondered about the reaction, hoping he hadn’t
somehow hit a nerve. Despite all the years they’d been friends,
Vic still really didn’t know much about Shane’s past or his
personal life. Shane was the type of man who talked about the
here and now. He wasn’t cagey or hesitant to answer questions;
he just didn’t bother talking much about the past.
Vic watched him, musing over how little he knew about a
man he considered one of his best friends. A lot of their time
spent together, in fact, was filled with comfortable silences.
Vic returned his attention to his plate, risking one more
thoughtful glance at Shane as they ate.
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“It’s the crack of dawn, Shane. What the hell are we doing
up?” Vic asked tiredly as they got out of the car and looked
around the nearly deserted parking lot. It was just now eight
a.m., but the sun was already bearing down on them and the
humidity was off the chart.
“I figured if we hit the outdoor places early it wouldn’t be
so hot,” Shane answered apologetically. But not only was it
already hot, it was so early that the sun hadn’t yet had the
chance to burn away any moisture. Vic’s clothing was already
sticking to him. Vic looked at him and Shane shrugged. “Live
and learn?” he tried with a hopeful smile.
Vic rolled his eyes and smiled. “Come on,” he said as he
grabbed a bottle of water and slid it into his pocket. He and
Shane headed for the entrance to Jockey’s Ridge, walking past
the building with the restrooms and toward a sidewalk with
signs pointing the way.
Printouts encased in plastic warned visitors to drink
plenty of water and heed the heat warnings. Vic groaned.
They started up the wooden walkway and were
immediately met with a staircase that led up at least three
stories high.
“Fuck, no,” Vic said immediately. “Isn’t there an elevator or
something?” he whined as Shane laughed and took his elbow.
“Come on, Counselor,” he instructed as he pulled Vic
toward the stairs.
“I thought Jockey’s Ridge was just sand dunes!” Vic
protested. “What the hell kind of sand dunes need a mile of
steps?”
“Really big ones,” Shane said with relish as they started up
the wooden stairs.
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By the time they got to the top, they were both breathing
heavily and sweating profusely. There was a strong wind that
cooled their skin, combating the sunshine, but it wasn’t nearly
enough. The hem of the shorts Vic wore whipped around at his
thighs, and his T-shirt plastered to his chest and stomach as
the wind pummeled them.
They looked around the expanse, both silent as they took
it in. These weren’t sand dunes—they were mountains! Vic
stared, openm
outhed. Piles of sand rose in every direction,
divided by valleys where the wind hadn’t yet swept away the
footprints of those who’d come before them.
On one peak a group of people seemed to be taking a
class. As Vic watched, a man attached to a hang glider ran off
the side of the sand dune and sailed into the air.
“Cool,” Shane drawled as he eyed the flying man.
“Hell, no,” Vic said immediately. “My feet don’t leave
earth,” he declared as he looked around again. There were no
steps to get down into the first valley. Just a steep wall of sand
as you stepped off the wooden platform.
“First one to the bottom?” Shane asked with a grin.
“I refuse to break my neck rolling down a sand dune,” Vic
said with a shake of his head.
“Spoilsport,” Shane muttered as he stepped off the
platform and immediately slid four feet down the side of the
sand dune. He managed to keep his balance, laughing as he
began making his way down. With each step he picked up
speed and soon he was hopping through the sand, practically
running down the hill.
Vic watched until Shane made it to the bottom, smiling
crookedly. He decided to throw caution to the wind and follow
suit, so he leapt from the platform and hopped his way down
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the side of the sand dune just as Shane had done. By the time
he reached the bottom, he’d picked up enough speed that
trying to stop would inevitably end up hurling him face-first
into the sand. Shane grabbed him as the ground evened out,
both of them nearly losing their balance and laughing like
schoolchildren playing in a sandbox.
Once Vic righted himself, he was again struck by how
natural Shane’s arm around him felt. His breath on Vic’s neck
as he laughed was a welcome feeling too. Vic didn’t move,
hoping to prolong the moment. Shane stepped back, his hand
lingering on Vic’s back as he looked up at the nearest sand
dune. It towered over them, and they stood looking at it, their
arms around each other.
“Well,” Shane finally said determinedly, letting his hand
slip off Vic’s back. “Ready?” he asked with a gesture to the top