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It was an unsettling thought. Not just the horrific destruction of millions of acres of vital forest, not just the environmental disaster, but how Americans might react to another onslaught. At least they’d know it was not done on purpose.

But was it? They’d been warned about climate change for decades. It was clear to any rational person that human activity was to blame. The fixes had been obvious and achievable. And yet governments and industry had—

“Huh. I’m an idiot.”

“What?” asked Isabelle.

“I know why the lake has elevated pH.”

“Why?”

“Potassium. I bet when I get the samples back from the lab they’ll show there’s potassium in the water. That will raise the pH, make it more alkaline.”

“I’m assuming you don’t mean that someone dumped a load of bananas into the lake.”

It took Vivienne a moment to figure out why Isabelle would have said something that ludicrous, then she smiled. “Non. Follow me. Potassium is potash, and potash is—”

Isabelle realized she might be more than a little tipsy, which explained the banana comment, but now she was suddenly stone-cold sober. “Ash.”

“And ash comes from—”

“Forest fires.”

Vivienne shrugged off her sleeping bag, picked up the pot that had been used to boil the potatoes, and went to the lake while Isabelle, guessing what she was doing, broke up the smoldering logs with the tip of her boot.

Vivienne splashed water onto the embers, and there was a great hissing. The dying embers enraged.

A few more trips and the fire was out, though a plume of smoke drifted across the lake, then finally settled.

“Damn,” said Vivienne. “I forgot. I have s’mores in my knapsack.”

“Well, the golden retriever probably ate them.”

“Hope not, there’s chocolate.”

This absurd conversation functioned to lighten the mood, to stop the shrieking in their heads. Telling them they had to hurry. Had to follow Charles’s arrow. Had to find whatever he’d hidden. And they had to get the results of the water tests.

Had to, had to, had to. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.

Vivienne reached for the dirty dishes, but Isabelle stopped her.

“You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

She took the dishes and pans to the lake. The last thing Isabelle did, though she was bone weary, was carry their food and garbage, now in a sturdy bag, into the woods, away from their campsite. And hoist it into a tree. If bears or wolves were attracted by the scent, they would not come knocking on their tent.

As she returned to the clearing, Isabelle could feel a slight breeze. There was a definite bite to it, and something else. Something she recognized.

She tried to dismiss it. After all, hadn’t the sky been red? And didn’t that mean it would be clear the next day? Not the rain or sleet or snow she could sense approaching.

But nature was changing, she thought as she crawled into her sleeping bag next to Vivienne, who was already asleep.

The world was becoming less predictable, the signs less readable. And why wouldn’t nature, at this point, lie to them? Turn on them?

CHAPTER 10

“This isn’t the Ritz, you fuck-wit.”

Rosa might as well have said it, given the expression on her duck face. But it was, of course, Ruth who was glaring at Armand.