Page 65 of God’s Country

Stan emerged first, looking beat.

“Tough night?” I asked.

“Something bothered Ollie’s stomach. He was up all night, running back and forth from the toilet. I’d blame you, but I had no trouble.”

“Probably picked up a bug from the water.”

“I’ll give you a thousand bucks if you let me use that hammock of yours tonight.”

“You’ve got a thousand dollars?”

“I’ve got a shitload more than that, brother.”

“In the pack?”

“Which,” Ollie said crawling from the tent, “you’ll never see, dickwad.” He stood up, looking beat to hell. “If you didn’t have that gun, I’d break your neck. You poisoned me.”

“I ate the same food you did. And your brother there ate the same. We had no problems.”

“You probably picked up a bug from the water,” Stan said. “You’ve been drinking from the lakes the whole time.”

“Giardia,” I said. “It’s a nasty little parasite that lurks in the water out here. Comes from beaver feces.”

“Christ, I didn’t need that,” Ollie said, looking as if he was about to be sick again.

“When’s breakfast?” Stan asked brightly, then grinned at his brother, enjoying the distress he saw on Ollie’s face.

“I’m working on it now,” I said. “You two just keep your distance.” I touched the gun, which was stuffed into the waist of my pants.

Ollie grunted and headed quickly up the path to the toilet. He was gone awhile, no doubt still dealing with the effects of the raw morels I’d slipped him.

“They’ll be looking for us today,” Stan said, eyeing the sky.

“But not here. They’ve already flown over this lake. There are a few hundred others for them to check out. We’ll get started right after breakfast.”

Ollie finally came back, and it was Stan’s turn at the toilet.

I’d filleted the fish with the blade on my multitool, which I’d cleaned and put back in my pocket. Earlier, I’d set the skillet at the edge of the grill over the fire pit until I was ready to heat the oil. Ollie stood watching me. He was less than ten feet away. I was keeping an eye on him, although I was sure he couldn’t move fast enough to get to me before I had the Glock out.

“Fish again?” he complained.

“I ordered frittatas but they were all out.”

“Funny.”

“It’s good protein, and it’s all there is.”

“All the way to Canada?”

“Unless you’re able to whip up something else.”

I thought he’d come back with some stupid remark, but he fell silent. I looked up from where I was ready to slide the skillet over the fire, and I saw that he was staring beyond me. I stood up and looked where Ollie was gazing.

The canoe was crossing Big Woman Lake, maybe two hundred yards out. There was only one person in it, stroking smoothly in the stern. If he kept going, he’d pass us by, no problem. But when I turned back toward Ollie, I saw that in the few seconds my attention had been on the canoeist, he’d crossed the distance between us. Before I could pull out the Glock, he had the skillet in his hand. He swung it, and the next moment, night descended again, stars and all.

CHAPTER 36

When I came to, I found Stan had returned. He must have helped Ollie drag me behind the sumac. I lay on the ground, the two brothers hunkered down beside me. Ollie had the barrel of the Glock pressed against my temple. My head was pounding from the blow he’d delivered with the cast-iron skillet, and my vision was a little blurred.