Free Fire - C. J. Box [61]
“Do we need to get back to Mammoth, then?” Joe asked, contemplating the five-hour drive.
Demming seemed lost in thought. He wondered if the shock of what happened at the camp had been held at bay in her mind and was just now releasing. He’d seen that kind of delayed reactionto violence before, and had experienced it himself.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I guess so. That was a new one for me, I must say. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared as when I was looking into the muzzle of that rifle. His eyes—Jesus. They looked crazy and scared at the same time, which is never a good combination. And I feel ashamed that my first reaction when he got shot was pure joy—followed by nausea.”
"I understand.”
"I hate to feel so happy to see a man shot-up.”
“He’ll be okay,” Joe said.
“I know. But to see that kind of violence up close like that . . . I don’t think I’m cut out for it.”
“You were magnificent,” Joe said. “You saved our lives when you told Rudloff about that law because it delayed him long enough for Nate to aim. You nearly had me believing it. That was quick thinking.”
“If only it were true,” she said. “Joe, do you think there are many more like him? I mean, more crazy survivalists in the Zone of Death?”
“Probably.”
“Whoever saved us, is he one of them?”
Joe smiled. “Nate? Yes, he is. But he’s been that way since I met him. He doesn’t live in Yellowstone, though. He lives in Saddlestring, where I come from. He once told me he values what he considers justice over the rule of the law.”
“That scares me.”
Joe nodded. “Me too. Luckily, he’s on our side.”
Rather than drive all the way to Mammoth in the dark, they decided to go halfway, to the Old Faithful area instead, into the heart of the park. Since the next item on Joe’s list was to question employees about the Gopher State Five, the diversionworked out. Demming used her radio to notify her husband that she wouldn’t be home and said she’d call him when they got to Old Faithful.
“That probably won’t go over very well,” she said, as much to herself as to Joe.
“I understand,” he said.
“I told him last night you were a nice guy, a family man.”
He flushed. “I said the same about you to Marybeth.”
“Now is the time for an uncomfortable silence,” she said.
He agreed, silently.
They backtracked north and entered the park proper through the gate at West Yellowstone, following the Madison River. The absence of any kind of streetlights made the moon and stars seem brighter and made Joe concentrate on driving, since bison or elk could appear on the road at any time. Demminghad been trying to nap but couldn’t get comfortable. She gave up trying with a sigh.
“When this is over,” she said softly, “I think I’m going to quit. I don’t ever want to be that scared again, and I’ve got a husband at home and two great kids.”
“What would you do?”
She shrugged. “Well, maybe I won’t quit outright. I probably can’t. I’m the primary breadwinner in the family, you know.”
“Believe me,” Joe said, “I know what that’s like. My wife is in the same boat, unfortunately.”
“Maybe I’ll transfer out of law enforcement into interpretation,” she said. “I’d like a life of pointing out wildflowers and bison dung to tourists from Florida and Frankfurt. That sounds a lot less stressful than what I’m doing.”
“Same bureaucracy, though.”
“Yeah, I know. And as an added bonus, less money.”
The old faithful area was the largest complex in the park, consisting of hundreds of cabins, the Snow Lodge, retail stores, souvenir shops and snack bars, a rambling Park Service visitor center, and the showpiece structure of the entire park: the hundred-plus-year-old Old Faithful Inn that stood in sharp, gabled, epic relief against the star-washed sky.
Since Old Faithful was the most heavily visited area, there were a few dozen vehicles in the parking lot despite the lateness of the season. Joe drove under the covered alcove of the hotel, which framed the famous geyser, which puffed exhausted steam breaths. The sides of the cone were moist with