"Annabelle is a lovely daughter-in-law. As accomplished a cook as my Eliza was, she makes our meals and tends house while Jacob and I work on their home. For their wedding present, I gave them the acreage at the foot of Burr Mountain, where some of the best grazing land and water can be found. Jacob and I have already laid out the foundation, and are hard at work preparing the site for what will become their new home. Much as I enjoy their company, I know they need a place of their own; a place to raise their children and build a future together.
I hope they have a chance to enjoy that future. There is talk of a civil war between the Northern States and the Southern ones. It seems far away from here, and yet two local boys already ran off to join the Army. The young always have such idealistic notions. They believe in whatever cause sets their blood afire, and they feel they are invincible--immortal. But I know all too well, no one is immortal; not Eliza, and certainly not poor Aaron..."
--excerpt from the private journal of Ephraim Barton
Smoky Hills Part 24
Cries in the Dark
Heero looked over at Trowa, who was huddled in a bulky jacket, sitting on a fallen log and watching the forensic crew work. "Are you cold?"
"Not very," Trowa replied absently.
It was mid-morning on Saturday, and they'd been watching Chang's people work for over two hours, once Trowa convinced Heero to take him back out via the shorter access from the road past the reservoir.
Heero's "you promised to never bug me about taking you hiking again" argument hadn't held up against his roommate's pleading.
He gave Trowa sidelong look. "Do you really find it all that fascinating--watching them sift through dirt for bone fragments?"
Trowa looked squarely at him. "Actually, yes. I mean, sure, you've seen this kinda stuff plenty of times--but I never have. It amazes me the way they've laid things out--a tarp for putting each piece on until someone can label it and load it into that box over there--tags for identification--" He shook his head, looking a bit awed. "They've got a regular assembly line going. It's very efficient."
"It would have to be," Heero said dryly. "They work for Chang."
Trowa gave a wry chuckle. "Good point." He studied his roommate's face. "Don't you find it at all intriguing--what they do? They piece together an entire body, one part at a time. That's gotta be hard work--"
"No harder for them than crossing a high wire was for you."
"Once you learn the skill, it's not so hard--"
"Exactly."
Trowa gave a lopsided grin. "Okay. I see your point. But at least admit that they have some pretty impressive specialized skills."
"Of course."
Both men turned sharply as a technician let out a victorious yell. "Got the skull! Looks like there's full dentition left, too!"
His co-workers flocked to help him carefully ease his prize out of the dirt.
"Well that will be helpful, won't it?" Trowa mused.
"It will if the person ever went to a dentist," Heero said with a bit less enthusiasm.
"Oh. Right." Trowa looked around at the clearing, while the forensic crew continued their efforts. "You s'pose my great-grandfather's still is somewhere nearby?"
"The body wasn't put here by your great-grandfather," Heero said firmly. "Chang guessed it had been dumped no more than ten years ago."
"Okay," Trowa conceded. "Samuel's off the hook. What about my grandfather?"
"Dekim?" Heero looked sharply at him. "Why would he kill someone and hide the body?" His gaze narrowed. "What have you read, Barton?"
"Nothing like that," Trowa replied with a shake of his head. "But with the way the old man ranted about trespassers, I gotta wonder."
"Maybe we can ask around and learn more about him," Heero suggested.
Trowa pondered a moment and then grinned enthusiastically. "I know just the place to start! Ask the mailman."
Heero scowled at him.
"Aw, c'mon. You know you're attracted."
"So?"
"So act on it," Trowa urged. "Invite the guy out for coffee. Go out in public and show those assholes who picked on him that he's not alone any more." He gave a stern look. "Follow your emotions."
"What do you know about my emotions?" came a gruff response.
"I know they're making you worry about Duo." He nudged his roommate with an elbow. "Since I'm back on my feet, you need someone new to look after."
Heero gave a frustrated sigh. "What makes you think Duo's interested in me, rather than you? After all, he did tell me to say 'hi' to you that day I saw him in the grocery store. And he called you my 'good looking' roommate."
"Really?" Trowa beamed at Heero. "So the guy's got taste. Did you tell him he's a 'looker' himself?"
"No. I told him I agreed that you were attractive."
Trowa slapped a palm against his own forehead. "Wrong, Heero! Wrong answer!" He glared into the blue eyes. "He probably thinks you and I are a couple." He shook his head hopelessly. "How many times am I gonna have to save you from yourself?"
"What?" Heero blurted. "I don't need saving, Barton--"
"Of course you do--before your inept social skills scare off the nicest guy you've ever met!" Trowa stood and brushed himself off. "C'mon--I need a ride home, so I can properly prepare for this."
"For what?" Heero asked suspiciously. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to dig through Dekim's journals and look for any references to this location, and then first thing Monday, I'm gonna stop at the post office to talk to Duo about my ancestors."
Heero frowned warily. "What does any of that have to do with saving me from myself?"
"I'm going to make sure that by the end of the conversation, Duo knows we're brothers, not lovers."
"Trowa--!"
"What?" demanded the green-eyed man, crossing his arms and glaring.
Heero glared back. "Just how do you expect to blurt that out without him realizing you're trying to play matchmaker?" he demanded. "And like I said before, what makes you think it's not you he's interested in?"
Trowa hesitated and finally shrugged. Looking back on the one time he'd met Duo, and how well they'd hit it off, he couldn't rule out the possibility.
But then again, maybe the fact that they'd been instantly comfortable with each other was an indicator. After all, Trowa had been nearly tongue-tied when he met the blonde postmaster--and Quatre had been quite obviously flustered. That encounter had reeked of nervous attraction.
The one with Duo had been too relaxed to even suggest any hidden emotions. Shyness, perhaps; Duo was obviously not used to meeting friendly people, and had been tentative about it. But there'd been no undercurrent of sexual tension--at least not in Trowa's mind.
"You're thinking about this a little too hard," Heero commented smugly. "You want to rethink your preference in hair color? Since you're so appreciative of the mailman's looks, maybe the quantity of hair could make up for its not being blonde."
"I'm not that shallow, you know," Trowa snapped."Just because he's a brunet, doesn't mean I'd automatically write him off."
"Really?" Heero drawled. "What exactly makes you 'write someone off'?"
"For starters," Trowa replied with a glare. "I don't write anyone off based on looks alone. I'd need to get to know them first."
"So, someone who looked like Gus the Dog-Faced Man would be in contention?" smirked Heero.
Trowa grimaced. "Okay. I get the point. There's got to be some physical attraction, I suppose."
"Yes, because as I recall, Gus was a really nice guy, wasn't he?" Heero reminisced.
"He was. And thankfully he was straight, and the Bearded Lady took a liking to him," Trowa added. "But enough about that. Let's get back to the subject of Duo."
"You do seem somewhat fixated on it," agreed his brother.
"He's very good-looking, and nice. He seems intelligent, too, and curious. And if you truly had not the slightest interest in him at all, I might be tempted to ask him out--if I hadn't laid eyes on his boss yet. But since I have, I'm afraid unless Quatre turns out to be a total asshole--which seems highly unlikely--he's the one I'm interested in, romantically-speaking."
"You don't even know for sure that he's gay."
Trowa just smirked knowingly. "I'm willing to take my chances, based on our brief, but memorable, first meeting."
"You haven't learned your lesson, eh?" Heero sighed, shaking his head.
"Look--she was a mistake," Trowa retorted, knowing exactly what incident Heero was referring to. "I was young and confused and thought I was heterosexual."
"Yes, and when she figured out you weren't, she publicly humiliated you," Heero reminded him. "Do you really want to chance hitting on a guy who might be straight in a town full of homophobes?"
"First off, if the way he smiled at me was any indication, I haven't got much to worry about," Trowa insisted. "And secondly, if he was the kind of guy who'd get worked up about being around gays, would he be sharing a house with Duo?"
Heero considered for a moment. "I suppose that's true," he conceded, recalling how pleasant Quatre had been at the grocery store. Even if he was straight, he wasn't a homophobe by any stretch of the imagination. "So are you going to take your own advice and ask him out?" he teased.
"Eventually," Trowa said with less assurance than before.
"Aha!"
"What?"
"You're hesitating. That means you're going to chicken out and dance around the issue for awhile before you get up the nerve to ask him out."
"So what if I do?"
"Then stop pushing me to ask Duo out!"
Trowa chuckled quietly. "What a pair," he sighed. "Easy enough to tell someone else to go for it, isn't it? But not so simple when you have to do it yourself."
"Exactly."
~*~
The campfire cast a warm glow in the clearing, the crackling of the flames echoed by the crackling of the skin of the four fish that were cooking.
"God, that smells great," Duo sighed from his reclining position against his backpack. He was using it as a pillow, his legs stretched out towards the fire with his stocking feet propped up on the rocks around it, soaking in the warmth.
Coincidentally, it was also helping to dry out those same socks, since he'd slipped on a mossy rock and landed feet-first in the creek, saturating both his boots and his socks. The boots were propped up on sticks near the fire so they could dry as well.
"It'd be even better if I had some lemon and dill."
"That wouldn't be 'roughing it,' Quat, and you know it."
It had taken Duo several outings to teach Quatre the difference between having all the amenities, and making your own. The formerly spoiled city boy had been a real novice when it came to simple survival. And there were times he still mourned the lack of flush toilets and soft down mattresses while out sleeping in the forest.
Duo, on the other hand, was an accomplished camper. His earliest memories of being hungry and adrift on the streets had left him with a deep and abiding gratitude for each and every meal or luxury. And having once learned to survive on whatever his surroundings provided, he'd had no trouble transferring that same foraging ability to a wild setting. In fact, he found a greater bounty out in nature than he'd ever found on city streets.
Not that he'd spent all that much time in the city. He'd been taken into the orphanage by six or seven years of age, along with Solo and a number of other kids that had been rounded up in an effort to reduce the homeless population. The memories of living in an abandoned warehouse were so far back in his past now, he hardly recalled them at all.
"Falling asleep?" came Quatre's tart inquiry, close to Duo's ear.
He twitched back to alertness, having indeed nearly dozed off. "Kinda," he admitted, yawning. "Now that my feet are warm again, I could nod off pretty easily."
"Not before supper. It's almost done." Quatre pressed a cup of hot cocoa into his hands. "Sit up and drink."
"Yes, mom," Duo smirked, straightening up and taking a swig. "Yum. Just how I like it! You didn't stir all the lumps out."
"I tried--"
"Those are my favorite part," Duo grinned at him. "The little blurbs of chocolate that didn't quite dissolve."
"You're seriously weird, y'know."
"Yup."
Quatre just shook his head and grinned. "You were right about the trail up here, though," he pointed out. "The view was pretty spectacular."
"Even if we couldn't spy on the cops?" Duo asked, referring to Quatre's attempts to use the binoculars to spot the forensic van and police cars down on the road by the reservoir.
"Even if," Quatre admitted. "Though, I'd kind of like to have satisfied my curiosity."
"Told ya--next week we'll hear all the gory details," he said, sipping more of his cocoa. "In fact, we'll probably hear way more than we want to."
"I suppose so. What kind of juice do you want with your fish?"
"What did we pack?"
"Cran-raspberry, cran-peach, water, pineapple-orange--"
Duo shifted on his sleeping bag. "I dunno--which has the proper bouquet for a freshwater fish dinner?" He said it with a cheesy British accent that made Quatre snicker.
"I'd go with the pineapple, myself," Quatre replied with an accent that was just as bad. "The dry, tangy flavor should offset the smoky meat quite nicely."
"Ah yes. Pineapple it is. And thank you for your recommendation, Chef Quatre."
"Actually, that'd be Sommelier Winner, if we were going with the snooty appellation for serving wine," Quatre teased, showing off his upper crust origins again. But he grinned as he said it, so Duo knew he was just being silly.
"Smellier?" Duo shot right back, smirking triumphantly. "Okay--if that's what you wanna be called--"
"Ah, no. If that's how you're going to pronounce it, I'd just as soon be a chef, thanks," drawled Quatre, sliding a couple of fish onto a plate and passing it over to Duo, along with an unopened bottle of pineapple-orange juice.
"Oh, great!" Duo said enthusiastically. "I got a side order of leaf with that." He pointed to a bit of oak leaf that had stuck to the plate when it sat on the ground waiting to be filled.
"It's complimentary," Quatre said airily, waving a hand. "Every meal needs greens on the side. Garnish!"
They settled in to their meal, eating the fresh fish with obvious relish, in spite of the rustic surroundings.
"Y'know," Quatre noted between mouthfuls. "You probably couldn't get fish this good in a five star restaurant."
"Damn straight. Twenty minutes from stream to plate. Y'can't beat the flavor."
After dinner, the two men made the obligatory s'mores for dessert, and then put away their gear for the night, piling the food into a sack and hanging it from a tree branch, since they were technically in bear country and didn't want to attract any attention of that sort.
Then they slung a tarp between two trees to act as a shelter against the morning dew they knew would come, and they settled their sleeping bags as close to the remains of the fire as safety allowed.
They changed into sweats so they could sleep comfortably, and yet in warm layers, and then they settled in for the night.
"G'night, Quat," Duo said as he hunkered down into his blankets.
"G'night," replied his companion, already drowsy from the long day of walking, fishing, and then setting up camp.
~*~
It was some time in the middle of the night when Quatre woke up, chilled from the lack of warmth on the side facing away from the fire pit. He shifted around so that the heat from the ring of stones could seep into his other side, and then decided that adding a log or two might be an even better idea.
As he struggled upright, wrapping his wool blanket tightly around himself, he glanced over to see Duo curled into a tiny ball inside his sleeping bag, only the trailing braid showing he was there at all. He found himself smirking as he poked the fire back into life and added a couple of dry logs, enjoying the immediate spread of heat.
Then, from down in the valley, he heard a strange cry. Somewhere between a moan and a howl, the echoing noise made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and a chill run down his spine.
"Duo?" he hissed, looking over his shoulder at his sleeping friend.
Duo didn't even stir, but remained snuggled deep inside his nest of blankets.
The call came again, deep and mournful, rising on the cold night air.
"Duo!" Quatre scrambled over beside his friend and nudged his shoulder through the thick sleeping back. "Duo, wake up!"
The braided man stirred and mumbled incoherently, burrowing further into his makeshift bed.
"Duo!" Quatre snapped, giving him a hard shake.
Duo sat up groggily, slapping Quatre's hands away as he blinked slowly awake. "You're not Heero," he said petulantly.
"Huh?"
"When I get groped awake in th' middle of the night, I'd like it to be done by a hot Japanese guy, thank you very much," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
The faint, far-off call sounded again, and Quatre grabbed Duo by both shoulders. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Duo said, yawning prodigiously.
"That noise! A--a--moan, or--roar--or--something!" Quatre gave a hard shake to his friend, making his head snap back and forth with the motion.
"Jeeze! Leggo!" Duo groused, once again pushing Quatre's hands away. "Gonna cause brain damage--"
"Oh for Heaven's sake--shaking you wouldn't cause brain damage--"
"No," Duo growled. "'S what I'm gonna do to you!" He settled a glare on his boss. "It's the middle of the freakin' night, Quat. What's so important it's worth dragging me out of a sound sleep, a toasty warm sleeping bag, and a dream about a hot guy?"
"I heard something!" Quatre blurted, his voice rising in agitation.
"Of course you did," Duo said reasonably. "We're out in the middle of the woods, city boy. There's all kinds of critters makin' noise."
"No! This was--different. Weird." Quatre edged closer to Duo, looking warily over his shoulder at the inky blackness around them. "Could it have been a mountain lion?"
Duo's eyes narrowed and he pushed Quatre away. "Very funny," he muttered. "If this is some kind of a joke--"
"No! Duo, I'm dead serious!" Quatre gasped. "I heard something out there. And it's like nothing I've ever heard before. Didn't you hear it, when I was waking you up?"
Duo's lips pressed together in a thin line as he assessed his friend's seriousness. And then he gave a shrug. "Yeah, I guess I heard something. But I was only half awake, an' it didn't sound like much of anything." He shook his head. "Maybe a bear or moose."
"Bears don't call so loudly you'd hear it echo across the valley, do they?"
"Well--no. Not really." Duo cocked his head to the side. "Okay. A moose, then." He tried to pull his blanket close, and Quatre tugged urgently on it.
"Not a moose!" he insisted. "You told me their mating season is in the fall; moose don't 'call' in the spring!"
Duo smirked irrepressibly. "Why not? Do they get charged by the minute this time of year?"
"Oh--you--!" Quatre shoved hard, and Duo went over backwards, laughing hysterically at his own joke. "You asshole!" Quatre ranted. "I'm serious about his, and you're making jokes!"
"Can't help it," Duo chortled. "You set that one up so perfectly."
"Fuck you!" Quatre snarled.
"Aw, c'mon," Duo coaxed, pushing himself upright again. "I'm just trying to make the best out of getting woken up in the middle of the night." He looked deep into the aquamarine eyes. "There's nothing out here to be scared of, Quat. All kinds of animals make noises, and you get used to most of them after a while. You probably heard a fox or fisher or something. They can make yipping noises or screeches that'll just about curl your hair."
"This was almost a moan," Quatre told him, a scowl still firmly in place. "It was deep and sort of drawn out and hollow sounding."
Duo shrugged, coming up empty. "I have no idea," he admitted. "I'd have to hear it again when I'm paying attention."
Quatre looked off into the distance, in roughly the direction from which the sound had come, hoping it would repeat itself. But there was only silence and the faint whisper of a breeze up in the pines. "Damn it," he muttered.
"Don't worry," Duo soothed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It was probably nothing. And the acoustics are so good out here, sometimes you can even hear dogs howling back in town, if the wind's in the right direction. Maybe that's what you heard."
"What does a mountain lion sound like?" Quatre demanded.
"Well--they make a variety of sounds," Duo told him. "Growls and snarls, mostly. And then sometimes a scream."
Quatre sighed, shaking his head. "No, this wasn't at all like that. It was more like a moan, like I said."
"Then ya got me," Duo conceded. "I have no idea what you heard. But I promise to keep my ears open, in case it sounds again."
"Thanks," Quatre mumbled, feeling both sheepish and annoyed. He was a bit sorry to have woken his friend up for nothing. But at the same time, the noise had been so unusual and unsettling, that he couldn't help himself.
He scowled, stirring the fire a bit more and watching the flickering flames to distract himself from the darkness around them and whatever creature out there had made such a mournful, haunting sound.
TBC...
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