Uncontrollable (The Nature of Grace, Book 2) (8 page)

“Ha! Your father and I always used to eat dessert for breakfast when his daddy would go on trips.” Birdee grabs my hand and escorts me to the kitchen table. She ushers me into a chair and bangs around. “Wait until you see what old Birdee has prepared for you.”

“Let me guess… MoonPies.” I rub my hands together. You can never eat enough MoonPies. “And it’d better
not
be the mini kind.”

Birdee opens a cupboard. “Ta-da!”

At some point in the middle of the night, she cleared all the cans and homemade jars of jelly and replaced them with boxes of different flavored MoonPies.

“Luckily your mother didn’t see all this redecorating. So what’s your poison?”

I eye the treats. “Hmm. Tough one. I’ll take a vanilla double-decker, please.”

“Coming right up.” Birdee bows before disappearing.

A few second later, she comes back with two plates from Mom’s best china, the ones we only use at holidays. It’s the set that’s missing a plate because Dad tried to spin it on his knife. I grin, remembering the look on his face when it crashed to the floor and how Mom reprimanded him. My smile quickly slips down. Just in time, Birdee slides a plate of MoonPies in front of me. Food therapy.

“Nothing but the best for you, my dear.”

We both pick up the snack and clink them together like glasses at a celebratory toast.

I holler out, “Cheers! To MoonPies.”

And Birdee follows up with the famous tagline, “They’re out of this world.”

I bite into my double-decker. Dad used to always say,
when you’re down, MoonPies make your spirit soar
. He’d never allow me to mope during MoonPie time; and if I did, he’d withhold the spongy treats like food from a jailbird until I smiled. I stay true to his strict rule and force myself to enjoy the yummy snack.

Birdee talks with her mouth full of a mint chocolate MoonPie. “So, today the big day?”

I nod and lick marshmallow off my finger. “Mm hmm.”

She eyes me. “Nervous?”

I stop mid-bite. If it were Mom, she’d wait for my response. Then if I told her I was scared, she’d use my temporary weakness to talk me out of going so she could keep me home safe and sound. Not only does Mom try to protect me from danger, but she also tries to shield me from my own fears.

I decide to be honest with Birdee because I know I can. “Yes.”

Birdee takes another bite. “Good. Nerves keep you on your toes.”

“That’s your pep talk?”

She wipes a marshmallow chunk off the corner of her mouth. “There can be no courage without fear?”

I look at her.

She chews for a few seconds before asking what sounds like another nonchalant question. “Got your knife?”

I look in her eyes. That question is more up Birdee’s alley. “Always.”

Her face turns serious. “You listen here, Chicken. Don’t be afraid to use it if you have to. On
anyone
.”

I try hard to swallow, but even the soft graham cracker crust seems to stick in my throat. “Why? Do you think… anyone will?”

Birdee reaches over and grasps my hand, looking me in the eyes. “No, I don’t. Sweeney would never put you in danger. I believe that. If he thought there was even the slightest chance that maniac was here, you bet your sweet donkey, he’d never let you go. But it never hurts to be safe. And you need to know that you can take care of yourself.”

I nod and study her face to see if she’s really telling the truth, or if she’s trying not to scare me. She goes back to chewing as if we just discussed the weather.

Then, Birdee takes another bite without looking at me. “Not to mention, I wouldn’t let you go if I thought you were in danger either. Maybe I’m naïve but I do believe one thing, we all have to get back out there or the bad guys win.”

“I know.”

We eat our third MoonPie in silence. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s afraid to say anything, or if it’s because she’s thinking of eating a fourth snack. When I glance over, I happen to catch a hint of something in her expression.

I can’t tell if it’s fear or uncertainty, like maybe she’s unsure of what she’s saying. Or she’s not 100 percent confident in my decision. Then again, maybe she’s a little scared.

Maybe I should be, too.

* * *

At the station, Agent Sweeney spends some time reviewing the basics. In a nutshell, his wisdom is pretty much this: stay together, stay on the path, and stay warm. Not woodland science, if you ask me. Yet Wyn and Skyler hang on to every word as if it’s a new revelation, making me even more concerned about my team.

Skyler raises her hand when he pauses for a mini-second. “Do you think we’ll see any other wild animals?”

Porter stands up. “You could see cougars, bears—”

“Cougars and wolves and bears, oh my!” Seth blurts out in a high voice and dances around. Big Mike laughs his baritone, belly laugh while Madison shakes her head in disgust.

I can’t help but add fuel to the fire. “And don’t forget those wild turkeys.”

Skyler shoots me one of her mean looks. I’m starting to think those are the only ones she has – besides googly eyes of course.

I shrug. “What? Turkeys can be very dangerous. Don’t underestimate them. Especially this time of year. And trust me, if they see you with a pocketknife, they will not hesitate to attack and defend themselves against the Christmas tradition.” I cover my mouth to hide a pending smile.

Skyler scoffs. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

Agent Sweeney shakes his head. “I’d never know you were all on the same team here.”

Wyn speaks up, “Okay, so we know the basics. But what exactly are we looking for when we get out there? How do we know when we’re close?”

Porter sits on the desk and removes his Indiana Jones-style hat. “Wolves keep to themselves. They are very shy and try to stay hidden. So they’re very hard to track.” A pair of paw prints pops up on the screen. “Of course, you can look for their tracks in the snow. Listen for howls. Or…”

Seth jumps up behind Skyler and screams, “Find bloody carcasses of their half-eaten prey!”

Skyler screams and then cringes away from him. “Ew.”

As always, Wyn comes to the rescue. “Cut it out, Seth. Jesus, get a life.”

“Me?” Seth frowns. “In case you didn’t realize, white knights in shining armor with small
swords
are not cool anymore.”

Madison and I groan at the start of another Battle of the Egos.

“Neither are
jerks
,” Wyn snaps back.

Agent Sweeney stands up to intervene again, but this time Katie cuts him off. “Guys, the childish banter is getting old. This is a serious project, and I need you to focus and treat it as such. Or you’re out. I’m sure Ms. Cox would agree.”

Seth salutes Katie and Wyn mumbles an apology. She smiles. “Porter, you were saying?”

Porter props his boot on one knee. “Not to refuel a dying fire, but in actuality, Seth is right.”

Seth gives Wyn an “I told you so” look as the professor explains. “Feeding signs are a good indicator a wolf pack is nearby.” He pulls out his smartphone and shows us a picture. “This is a wolf den I came across once. You can see they drag most of their kills to the same place. Except for the occasional snack.”

Skyler whines and covers her eyes. “This is so gross.”

“Circle of life, baby.” Seth blurts out as Wyn shoots him another look.

Porter advances to another picture. “And this is a picture of wolf scat.”

“Of what?” Wyn leans forward.

“You would probably know it as wolf
poop
.” I inform my leader.

“Gnarly.” Seth pushes into Madison to get a better look at the hairy mound. “How do you know that’s not from Bigfoot?”

Skyler looks petrified but tries to smile. “Bigfoot? Yeah, right.” She studies Porter as if waiting for him to confirm there is no Sasquatch in the area.

I play along just to freak her out. “Never know. That guy in Shelby says he saw one cross the road. Right in front of him. Didn’t even yield to oncoming traffic. Pedestrian violation if you ask me.”

Maybe that will get her off this team, so I can focus on the seriousness of the project. As opposed to Lessons from Country Mouse to City Mouse.

Skyler frowns. “We didn’t.”

Wyn waves us all to be quiet. “Shut up, you guys. There’s no Bigfoot, Sky. Can you be serious for once? This is a matter of life and death.”

I roll my eyes.

Call the CDC, because we now know Skyler’s drama is highly contagious.

Porter flips through a few more slides of old dens, more tracks, and clumps of hair left stuck to branches.

“Again, this is an organized tracking effort. Most of the wolves are tagged, and we know where they are within a mile radius. However, it’s always good to know the signs. You never know if a tag has malfunctioned, or how the weather will affect the equipment. We just need to find the wolves, observe them from a distance, and mark down everything we see. Very simple. The weather will be our biggest hurdle at this point.”

He holds up the backpacks we were given yesterday. “Don’t forget. You have everything you need for basic winter survival and tracking.”

Agent Sweeney hands out a list of the bag contents. “Make sure you designate someone to conduct bag checks each time you leave. You may need to restock your supplies.”

Wyn assigns that duty to me with another lame nod. This time, I nod back, a little more dramatically followed by an obnoxious salute.

I skim the checklist. It mainly lists the basics needed for a one- or two-day hike: flashlight, knives, compass, maps, and safety items. Plus a few luxuries like hand and feet warmers, extra matches, a fold-down survival shovel, and even a small sterno to heat food or water.

Porter walks around the room as Big Mike and I double-check the team packs. “You have some tracking tools in there. In addition to the observation folder and data sheets, there’s a tape measure, trail markers, orange surveyor tape, and a disposable camera for documenting.”

Agent Sweeney continues. “We will be monitoring you at all times. There’s a tracking device on each pack. Porter will give each team a map of their assigned areas to search. The locations are not as far out as you would think. He’ll be going back and forth between the two teams to ensure safety, so you shouldn’t be more than a mile or two away from each other.

“Each team will have a radio, though sometimes the signal is a little testy this time of year. According to the weather check, today should be cold but sunny, so we don’t expect anything out of the ordinary. But as most of you know, the weather up there can be unpredictable, especially this time of year, so if you see any signs it’s worsening, head back immediately the same way you hiked in.”

Porter helps me reload the pack. “And don’t forget to stick to the map. Following those trails will ensure we know where you are at all times in case we need to extract you.”

The way he keeps saying extract makes me feel like a black head.

He continues, “These paths were chosen for a reason. They are the most passable and have been identified as the safest routes. Only fools stray.”

I look around the room, not feeling very confident no fools exist in this bunch.

Agent Sweeney takes off his baseball cap and rubs something off the brim. “Any questions?”

“Yeah.” I raise my hand. “When do we start?”

Survival Skill #6

When hiking in the winter, there are four basic wilderness survival priorities: shelter, fire, water, and food (in that order)
.

T
here’s only one thing worse than being in the woods with a boy who hates me as much as he hates foliage –spending time with Malibu Barbie Goes Camping, a girl whose only experience with nature is killing two silk plants and watering a cactus.

Skyler pulls her pink coat tighter and repeats herself for the umpteenth time. “I still don’t understand why we have to do this in winter and on our vacation!”

Well, maybe you shouldn’t have volunteered
, I think to myself. I try hard to ignore her never-ending complaints, but after listening to her squeal at every bug and mud puddle for two hours, I’m about at my breaking point.

“It’s so cold.” Her high-pitched voice rings in my ears. “How much colder do you think it will get?”

Following behind them, I roll my eyes and can’t resist mumbling under my breath, “Not cold enough.”

“I’ll keep you warm.” Wyn hugs her and rubs her arms to warm her up.

I’m praying Skyler’s breaking point is nearing with every step, because I could do this assignment much faster if I was on my own. I watch her and Wyn walk in front of me, all cuddled up like they’re window-shopping in an outdoor mall. I can’t help but miss him and how he used to take care of me, or how he’d try anyway.

No matter how much I don’t want to envy them, they make me think of Mo. Our last night together at his camp, cooking and kissing; our day in the stream, fishing and laughing. The way he always called me Blossom, the same way Wyn calls her Sky. But mostly, I miss the way Mo wouldn’t let me pull away from him when I was scared. God, I miss him so much. It’s bad enough he’s not here, but it’s definitely not fair I’m forced to watch Wyn and Skyler fall in love.