They lay there, two people who had intertwined their lives and fates far more than Scott Brodie had ever fully acknowledged. He felt the weight of her arm across his body, her fingers clutching his chest, her other hand squeezing his. He felt her warm breath against his chin.
He and Maggie Taylor had experienced a couple of close calls during their difficult assignments together, alcohol-fueled moments,half conceived and flushed with desire. Whatever this was now, it was different, it was true to who they were and what they were together.
He felt her squeeze his hand tighter.
So we don’t float away.
Then she adjusted her arm, and he heard the crinkle of plastic from his jacket pocket. The ugliest sound in the world.
Taylor felt around over his jacket. “What is that?”
Had he forgotten? Or had he wanted to forget? “Something I dug up. Ames had marked it with a willow branch next to a pond.”
She sat up and looked at him. “Are you serious? What is it?”
He had a sudden doubt, then felt in his breast pocket for it. It was there. He sat up and pulled out the plastic bag, then removed the thumb drive and held it up.
Taylor looked at it. “Oh my God. This could be… We have to get back.”
“Now?”
“Yes.” She got to her feet, then Brodie did as well. “This can’t wait. We need to find Tom.”
Maggie Taylor looked, well, mildly insane. Eyes wide and full of intensity. It was like her usual mania, but cranked way up.
Brodie said to her, “Good luck, if you’re expecting me to be your Sherpa.”
Taylor looked around, then called out, “Tom!”
No answer.
Then Scott Brodie did what people had been doing since the dawn of man and looked to the stars. He found the Big Dipper, and from there Polaris, the North Star. He turned to his left and said to Taylor, “This way.”
They walked side by side and Brodie kept checking his feet to make sure he wasn’t about to walk off a ledge. He was coming down, but not enough to trust his senses.
Taylor, for her part, had consumed about the same amount of tea as Brodie, but given her much smaller frame she was probably feeling it more, and would for longer. And Tom Greer, wherever he was, would be completely zonked.
They walked in a silence for a minute, keeping a quick pace. Then Taylor said, “Last time I took these, I was a different person. Hadn’t felt heartbreak, hadn’t seen war. I was a little worried what my mind might do to me now. After everything I’ve seen, you know? But it’s actually… healing.” She looked around. “Being out here helps. It can be good to feel small. What about you?”
Brodie didn’t answer right away. He thought about all he’d seen up here, both what was real and what wasn’t. All the beauty and the brutality. As if it was all one thing, like there was no difference between horror and awe. In fact, that seemed to sum up his feelings about the tin men pretty well.
But what he found himself saying aloud was: “I’m feeling anger, Taylor. We have a job to do here, but I’m starting to think we have another job too, just like Ames did. I’m thinking about those buried weapons. I’m thinking about digging them up.”
Taylor did not respond.
Brodie saw the mesa’s western edge about fifty yards ahead. He looked around and spotted a small artificial light a little to the south. As they approached the light, they saw it was a battery-powered lantern, sitting in front of Greer’s tent.
Greer was standing near the lantern, and a little too close to the edge.
Brodie didn’t want to startle the guy, so he called out while they were still a good distance away.
Greer turned and stared at them, and Brodie realized the man was completely naked.
As they got closer, Brodie said, “It’s a little cold for that, Tom.”
Greer replied, “Feels good.”
Brodie asked Taylor, “What do you think?”
