“Fuck no, bro. Me and you are going to find our mates and move out to VF.”
You would live at VF?
“Well… at night, no.” Timber said. “Too much grab-ass, sweating, and funky sounds going on over there. We’ll stay in our place, and our mates will move in with us. They’ll love it.”
Our house is small.
“We’ll build onto the back and during the day we’ll work out of VF.”
Canyon was silent, thinking about it. He yearned for a mate—forhismate, and he wondered often what she would be like. Perfect. Soft. Responsive. Beautiful. Powerful. She would be his and he would be hers.
“All the rest of ‘em’ll be jealous of my mate anyway,” Timber said.
Canyon snorted.Why’s that?
“She’ll have the best power possible—the power to find hidden snacks.”
Canyon laughed out loud.
“—And she’ll be a billionaire.”
She could pay for us to build on to the house.
“Or we could go live with her in her mansion.”
I want my own wing.
“You got it, bro—my mansion is your mansion. I’ve got your snack room with built-in snow cone machine all planned out.”
They fell silent, scanning the road and trees. There were no houses and little signs of civilization other than road markers and speed limit signs.
“How come we don’t have a substation up here? We could use one.”
I think it’s strange that you and I never came up here when we were growing up.
“Hey, you know, you’re right. We owned Serenity in the 90s and the double zeroes.” Timber put up a hand and Canyon fist-bumped him. “But we never came up here.”
Not even once, I don’t think.
“We played paintball on ARQ Bluff all the time.”
And we raced snowmobiles on Crimson Bluff in the winter.
Canyon rounded a bend and ahead of them, the road ended at two chest-high boulders.
“The fuck?” Timber said. “This road shouldn’t be blocked here.”
Timber grabbed a brochure from The Morning Wood Inn out of the center console.
“This says the turnoff is two miles down farther.”
Canyon grunted an acknowledgement and parked at the boulders. He clipped Predator to his belt and got out.
Guns?Timber said.
Nah. Teeth.They fist-bumped again.
Their guns were locked up tight in the vehicle gun safes. Canyon locked the truck, and they headed for the boulders. Canyon touched one, just to make sure it was real. The unyielding coolness convinced him it was. Past the boulders, the road continued on as far as they could see. Canyon stepped through the threshold, walking down the empty road slowly, senses on high alert. He pulled up Sebastian’s investigation notes on Predator, examining the Google Earth images, which showed the road fully open—no boulders. The road led to the top of the bluff, then looped around the two-mile-long sinkhole, with no sign of buildings or tents or anything that could be called an inn.
