Flint
“What are you thinking?” Ridge asks as I stare at the maps on the hood of my truck. There are two here. The first is the official printed one of the area, and the other is a crude, hand drawn map that I sketched out a few days ago.
I tap one section. “Ronnie and I will investigate this area. I'm thinking we'll either put the barracks on that spot, or it’ll go over here where I want you and Kane looking.”
Ridge taps his spot. “It’s further up, closer to the dam. It’ll get better reception and the natural water access will be fuckin’ easy, but it’s going to be a hell of a nightmare getting trucks up there to build the infrastructure.”
“Well, that’s Bronco’s decision,” I remind him. “We’re just bringing him the recommendations.”
Kane pats his backpack. “Got it. We'll talk with you on the radio. Let you know what we find as we find it.”
I hesitate, and Ridge laughs.
He looks at Kane. “He's going to be bringing Ronnie along. He doesn’t want minute-by-minute updates. A recap later will do it.”
I focus on Ridge. “One day when that motherfucker has a pretty girl of his own, he’ll understand.”
Kane flips me the bird.
I fold my paper maps, check that my radio has fresh batteries, and toss the bag in the truck. A quick shoulder clap to both of them passes as goodbye. We’ve seen too much shit together to actually say the word.
When I get to the office, the first thing I do is press a kiss to Ronnie’s forehead. “Are you ready for our not-team-building-definitely-not-sleeping-with-the-boss meeting?”
She laughs. “I can’t wait. I do have to get back in time to take the kids for a vision appointment. I don't think they're having any problems, but I want to make sure to get them tested before they start school in the fall. I can't believe my babies are going into first grade.”
There's a hitch in her voice that has me squeezing her shoulder.
I've only known the kids for a couple of weeks, and I swear it does feel like they're growing bigger every single day.
“Don't you worry, Mama. They'll do just fine in school,” I tell her.
She waves a hand. “Sorry, I think it's these damn hormones.”
“Never apologize for that,” I reassure her as I take her hand so we can get on the road.
It doesn’t take us long to drive to the valley. I unload my equipment and start work, talking with Ronnie the entire time. She asks questions about what I’m doing and how I’m doing it. I explain everything as I go, happy that I brought her along. Even boring chores don’t feel quite as mundane with her next to me.
She points to a grove of trees. Some have fallen over from storms in the past few weeks and tangled together. “It’s really pretty over there. I could see you making beautiful walking trails for the veterans.”
I note the grove of trees and take a photo of them. “I’ll add it to my recommendation when I tell Bronco about this place.”
Her stomach growls. She presses a hand to it. “I missed breakfast.”
I already know that. I was there. She managed to eat a couple of crackers before she went into work. It was all she could keep down. She keeps telling me that nothing is wrong and that it's perfectly normal for her to do this during the first trimester. It still scares the shit out of me. There’s a little baby in her stomach, and I can’t peer inside of her like I could with an oven. Maybe that’s what God should do next for women. Give them little doors and even a beeper so I know when the baby is done.
“I’ll get the basket from my truck,” I tell her, slinging the gear over my shoulder right as I reach for my bag.
That’s the moment it all goes crazy. There’s a loud rumbling sound then the ground underneath my feet starts to shake.
My radio crackles to life.
Ridge’s voice is over the airwaves.
It's been years since I've heard that particular note in his voice, but I've never forgotten it. That's panic.
I press down and tell him, “I'm here.”
He’s yelling now. “Get out! Dam…giving way. You’re…path…go!”