Dangerous Minds

  “We might have a problem,” Vernon said. “The Park Police just showed up. I saw them in the lobby talking to the front desk, so we skedaddled out the back door.”

  Vernon pitched the backpacks into the back of the SUV and climbed in after them with Wayan Bagus. Riley put the Tahoe in gear and drove out of the lot. She breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled onto the Grand Loop Road, and the inn receded into the night.

  Fifteen minutes later, Riley arrived at the intersection of the Grand Loop Road and Yellowstone Lake. To the right was the South Entrance. To the north, Canyon Village.

  “We’re literally at a crossroads,” Emerson said. “We can go north to Sour Creek Dome, or south out of the park and back to our plane waiting for us in Jackson Hole.”

  “I’m not even sure we’re going to be able to get out of here at this point,” Riley said. “There are only four entrances to the park, and they could have roadblocks set up for us at each.”

  Emerson nodded. “There’s risk in either choice, but I’ve never lived my life making decisions based on risk. Innocent people are being killed. I have to see this through, but everyone else here needs to decide for themselves whether they’re in or out.”

  “Mostly, I’m sort of the kind of guy who prefers to be in,” Vernon said from the other side of the police partition.

  “It is fortunate that you know so very little,” Wayan Bagus said to Vernon. “A man who does not know fear cannot die, because death has no place to enter.”

  Vernon grinned. “Well, I appreciate that, Little Buddy.”

  “The universe put me in the middle of this mystery, and I believe it is my Tao to follow it to its conclusion,” Wayan Bagus said. “I’m in.”

  Riley didn’t see where there was much of a choice. Even if she went home to Texas and led the life of a recluse, she suspected she would be hunted down and eliminated. These people were serious about guarding their secret, and she was in the uncomfortable position of knowing too much and not knowing enough. And, most important, her daddy wouldn’t be happy with her if she didn’t see this through.

  “I’m in,” Riley said.

  “Well, this sure is a nice moment,” Vernon said. “In the movies, they’d hug it out.”

  Wayan Bagus looked at Vernon. “Like in Frozen when Elsa and Anna hug at the end because of true love?”

  “No. Yuck. What the heck are you talking about? That’s girlie hugging stuff,” Vernon said. “There’s only two kinds of movie hugs that aren’t totally lame. The first is a Rocky III hug. You know, when Apollo and Rocky hug because Rocky finally gets his confidence back and they know he’s gonna kick Mr. T’s ass.”

  “I know nothing of these people,” Wayan Bagus said, “but I understand the concept.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask about the second kind of hug,” Riley said.

  “A Godfather hug,” Vernon said. “You know the kind of hug somebody totally boss, like Al Pacino, gives someone really annoying, like Fredo, just before he kills them.”

  “I will reflect seriously on the matter,” Wayan Bagus said.

  Riley thought it was unclear which type of hug Wayan Bagus was considering giving Vernon.

  While all the hugging talk was going on Emerson had reached over and placed his hand on Riley’s. She thought it might have been just a gesture of camaraderie, but it felt warm and intimate. Whatever it meant, Riley liked it. She left her hand under his for a few seconds, then withdrew it and turned the steering wheel. The Tahoe veered left toward Canyon Village.

  “I guess we should find somewhere to hide for the night,” Riley said.

  “There’s a campground near Fishing Bridge at the northern part of the lake,” Emerson said. “We’ll hide the SUV there and start off into the backcountry at first light.”

  —

  It was dawn when Riley got out of the Tahoe and stretched, glad to exchange the stale air and cramped sleeping arrangements for the fresh smell of conifer trees. They were at the bottom of a gulch and about a mile from the campground. Emerson and Vernon were laboring to camouflage the car with branches and leaves.

  “Do you think they’ll find the Tahoe?” Riley asked Emerson.

  “Undoubtedly. However, I don’t care if they find it. I only care when. We need to find what we’re looking for before Tin Man discovers the Tahoe and knows for certain that we’re still in the park.”

  “Okay, then. How long do you think that will take?”

  “It’s going to take two days to hike to Sour Creek Dome and two days to hike back out. At any rate, we have enough food to last a week and no more.”

  “If there’s something big going on at Sour Creek Dome, wouldn’t there be a road leading to it?”

  “Most likely, but it’s not on any map, and we could waste a lot of time trying to find it. With any luck we’ll be able to take it out.”

  The three backpacks and Wayan Bagus’s duffel were propped up against a nearby tree. Emerson strapped one on and handed another to Riley. He pointed at an unassuming hill in the distance. “That’s Sour Creek Dome. It’s about ten miles as the crow flies from here.”

  “And you think it’s a two-day hike?” Riley asked.

  Emerson removed a map of Yellowstone from his pocket. “I don’t really know. There’s no established trail so it’ll be slow going.”

  Riley looked at the map. “Why is the entire area delineated in a green bubble?”

  “It’s the area of the park with the highest density of grizzlies. That’s one of the hazards.”

  Riley cut her eyes to Emerson. “One of the hazards?”

  “There may be one or two others.”

  Vernon and Wayan Bagus joined them. Vernon had already strapped on his pack and changed into a camouflage hunter’s jacket and tan pants. Wayan Bagus, still dressed in his orange robe and sandals, had the duffel slung over his shoulder.

  Vernon looked the little monk up and down and shook his head. “Are you the Lorax?”

  Wayan Bagus looked confused. “Who is the Lorax?”

  “He’s a little orange man who ‘speaks for the trees.’ At least that’s according to Dr. Seuss.”

  “I speak only for myself,” Wayan Bagus said.

  “That’s what I thought,” Vernon said. “So if you’re not the Lorax, you have no business wearing his clothes on a two-day hike through this here upcountry forest. You’re going to freeze your ass off.”

  Wayan Bagus was his usual pleasantly calm self. “These clothes should suffice. I am just a simple monk, but I will overcome the cold.”

  Vernon looked at Emerson. “What the heck is he talking about?”

  “Some Buddhist monks are able to withstand extreme temperatures,” Emerson said. “It sounds crazy, but it’s been documented that they can raise their skin temperature by as much as seventeen degrees and lower their bodies’ metabolic rate by up to sixty-four percent.”

  Vernon looked back at Wayan Bagus. “Is that true? How do you do that?” he asked.

  “Simple concentration. You must focus your mind on nothing else but the image of a flame running down your spine.”

  “Huh, I reckon there just might be something to it,” Vernon said. “I focus my mind on an image of boobs, and it raises my wiener by as much as ninety percent. Works every time. Do you think it’s the same thing?”

  Riley stared openmouthed at Vernon. Emerson smiled. Wayan Bagus looked skeptical.

  “Only problem is I’m not loving the idea of a flame going down my back, so I’ll just stick with my wool socks and fleece pants,” Vernon said. He pulled a .45-caliber revolver from a holster inside his hunting jacket. “Besides which, there’s no good place to keep this in a monk robe.”

  Wayan Bagus wagged his finger at Vernon. “Guns. Very bad for our karma.”

  Vernon put the gun back in the holster. “Little Buddy, this here’s my lucky gun. The only bad karma this gun has is for any woodland critter we happen to come across at dinnertime.”

  Wayan Bagus shook his head. ?
??The Sage teaches us first learn how to live and then learn how not to kill. No good. Very bad.”

  “Right. On that note, off we go,” Emerson said, walking in the direction of Sour Creek Dome. Riley followed him into the woods. Vernon and Wayan Bagus lagged a little ways behind, still bickering about guns and karma.

  FIFTEEN

  Four hours, seven hills, and five miles of breathtaking terrain later, Riley was drenched with sweat. The thirty-pound pack, which had seemed manageable at the beginning, weighed heavily on her back, and her legs ached with every step. She was ready for a break, but wasn’t about to be the one to suggest it first.

  Emerson paused on top of a ridge and set his pack down. “What do you say we stop for lunch?”

  Riley looked out over the valley floor below. Sour Creek Dome was on the other side and looked not much closer than it did four hours ago. She turned back to look in the direction they’d traveled. No sign of civilization. No sounds from the highway. Except for the occasional bear print the size of a dinner plate, there was absolutely no evidence that any creature had ever been in the area in the last thousand years.

  Riley put her pack down next to Emerson’s and stretched. “I’m glad you have some experience with off-trail hiking, because I’d be completely lost. This is beautiful, but it really is the middle of nowhere.”

  Emerson didn’t say anything.

  “You do have wilderness experience, don’t you?”

  “More or less.”

  “Well, which is it?” Riley asked. “More or less?”

  Emerson pulled a book entitled The Complete Guide to Wilderness Survival from his backpack. “It’s what you’d call more of a theoretical experience.”

  “For the love of Mike, Emerson. Do you even know where we are?”

  “More or less.”

  Riley narrowed her eyes at him. “We’re completely lost, aren’t we?”

  Emerson opened the book to the chapter on way finding. “Theoretically, no. It would be a vast exaggeration to say that we’re completely lost. At worst, we’re partially lost. And that barely counts because we know where we’re going. Sour Creek Dome is the large obstruction directly in front of us.”

  Vernon and Wayan Bagus crested the hill, rejoining Emerson and Riley.

  Vernon dumped his backpack onto the ground. “My back hurts. I’ve got blisters on my feet, and Little Buddy won’t stop talking about my gun. I could be back at Mysterioso Manor watching reruns of Baywatch right now.”

  “That’s the least of your worries,” Riley said. “We’re lost.”

  “Lost shmost,” Vernon said. “We’re going to that big hill in front of us. How can we be lost if we can see where we’re going?”

  “Precisely,” Emerson said. “And I have a book on the subject.”

  “No man can be lost so long as he follows his Tao,” Wayan Bagus said.

  “First off,” Riley said, “the Tao thing is getting old. Secondly, up until six months ago, when I got sucked into this bizarre vortex, my Tao was being a financial analyst in an office building, saving enough money to pay off my student loans, and going out for an occasional movie date on the weekends.”

  “Don’t sound to me like it compares in any way to hanging out with us,” Vernon said.

  Emerson offered the Complete Guide to Riley. “Would it help if I let you hold on to the book?”

  “Thank you,” Riley said, “but I don’t want to hold the dumb book. I’m going to go sit over there under that tree and eat a PowerBar. Nobody mess with me for ten minutes.”

  Riley sat under the tree, eating her lunch, while Emerson, Vernon, and Wayan Bagus sat on a rock eating theirs. The midday sun sparkled off a little lake in the valley below, and Riley closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the wind filtering through the leaf canopy above her. It really was beautiful here, she thought, but it was difficult to relax and appreciate the beauty when the horror of the night before was still so clear in her mind.

  She had asked for ten minutes, and that’s exactly what she gave herself. She had a job to do. It would seem her life depended on it. She was going to hike to Sour Creek Dome and see for herself if something sinister was taking place there.

  In exactly ten minutes she left the shade of the tree and strapped on her pack. “Let’s keep moving, boys,” she said to Emerson, Vernon, and Wayan Bagus. “We’re burning daylight.”

  Vernon pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his backpack. “I guess you’re not so worried about getting lost anymore.”

  “What could possibly go wrong?” Riley said. “After all, we have a book.”

  —

  It was late afternoon when they reached the lake on the valley floor. It was deep blue and pristine. And a lot bigger than it looked from the ridgeline.

  “We only have an hour or two before sunset,” Emerson said. “I think we should camp here. According to my guidebook it’s best to get settled while there’s enough light to see your surroundings.”

  Riley didn’t need a book to figure that one out. She’d done her share of hunting and camping when she was a kid. Not nearly as rough as this. They’d had a pop-up camper that they’d supplement with a tent. Still, the basics were the same. Figure out where the bathroom was located, and make sure you could get to it without running into too many critters in the dark of night.

  “First thing we want to do is set up the tents,” Emerson said. “And we should get a fire started to keep the animals away.”

  “Do you know how to start a fire?” Riley asked.

  Emerson held up the book. “Chapter three.”

  “Okeydokey then,” Riley said. “You make the fire, and Vernon and I will get the tents up.”

  “I got everything pulled out of the backpacks,” Vernon said. “We got four sleeping bags and pads, a couple little pots for cooking, and two tents.”

  “Are you sure there are only two tents?” Riley asked. “There are four people.”

  Emerson looked up from his reading. “Four tents would have made the packs too heavy. I decided it was more efficient for two people to share a tent.”

  “I volunteer to bunk with you,” Vernon said to Riley. “You won’t have no trouble keeping warm neither. I’m a hot sleeper. And I sleep in the nude, but I promise not to entice you with my nakedness.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but no.”

  “I suppose you think you would be too tempted to…you know,” Vernon said.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Riley said. “Best not to put it to a test.”

  Wayan Bagus gave a small apologetic head bow. “It would not be appropriate for us to share a tent,” he said to Riley.

  “I understand,” Riley said. She turned her attention to Emerson. “It seems my choice of a tent mate is limited. Do you sleep in the nude?”

  Emerson hesitated. “Would you like me to?” he finally asked.

  “No!”

  “Anything else?”

  “I don’t want to wake up and find Post-it notes stuck to me.”

  “He does that to me too,” Vernon said. “He leaves me notes that say there’s a zebra in the house or we’re all out of orange marmalade. When I wake up, first thing I do is check my forehead for a sticky note.”

  —

  By the time Riley and Vernon had the tents set up, Emerson had a decent-sized fire started and enough dry wood gathered to keep it going until morning.

  Riley sat down next to Emerson. “What are you reading about now?”

  “Bear safety. We need to be especially careful through the night.”

  “Do you think we’re in danger?” Riley asked.

  “Not just from bears. There are other predators out here too. The fire should keep them away. It’s important we take shifts to keep it burning until dawn.”

  Riley took the book from Emerson. It was open to a section on what to do in a bear encounter. “It says identify yourself by talking calmly to the bear, and stand your ground.”

  “Running is one of the worst things
you can do,” Emerson said. “Grizzlies can move at thirty miles per hour, uphill or downhill.”

  “And if talking calmly doesn’t work?”

  “If a grizzly attacks you, play dead. Get onto your stomach with your hands around the back of your neck. Spread your legs so the bear can’t roll you over too easily.”

  “Why on the stomach?” Riley asked.

  “Harder for the bear to rip out your intestines.”

  Vernon sat down next to them and blew out a raspberry. “I reckon it’s not the bears we need to worry about. These here woods are well-known to be infested with Bigfoots. And let me tell you something. Getting on your stomach and spreading your legs is the last thing you want to do around a Bigfoot.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask,” Riley said.

  Vernon nodded his head solemnly and looked a little choked up. “Yep. I was nearly raped by a Bigfoot.”

  “You should tell Riley the story,” Emerson said. “After all, it just might save her life.”

  “I reckon that could be true,” Vernon said, staring into the fire as if that would conjure up the memory. “When I was just turned twenty, I was out camping with my uncles and their buddies. It was a dark night. No moon at all. Couldn’t see nary a thing that was more than six inches in front of your face. Just like tonight.”

  “The sun has barely set,” Riley said. “And it’s a full moon tonight.”

  “Even worse,” Vernon said. “Bigfoots are especially ‘active’ during a full moon. Anyways, we’d all retired to bed after a late night of camaraderie, and by that I mean heavy drinking. I was sound asleep when the Bigfoot crashed into my tent and tried to have his way with me. I fought him off, and he kind of staggered away into the night.” Vernon gave a shiver. “I tell you I’m under no illusions what would have happened if I’d just spread my legs and played dead.”

  “Thanks, Vernon,” Emerson said. “I think we’re all safer armed with the knowledge of how to properly fend off a Bigfoot attack.”

  Riley rolled her eyes. “Personally, I think we’re all safe unless any of Vernon’s drunk uncles show up.”

  Vernon ignored Riley. “Yellowstone has the biggest, meanest, rapiest Bigfoots in the world. And, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking you’ve got a fifty-fifty chance that it will be a Bigfoot of the female persuasion, but let me tell you they’re the worst of all. They’d sooner rape you than look at you.”