Ninety Degrees Out
Chapter Twenty Two

“Arimina, don’t go anywhere without Jazz,” Alicia said.

“Okay Mommy. I want to go see if Ursa is okay.”

“Give me a few minutes and we’ll all go. Chay wants to see about putting a new ladder down to the new pond in the canyon.”

“We can go swimming there?” Arimina asked.

“That’s what we’re hoping. Everyone from the ranch will use it for fun.”

“What about the fishes? I was reading about the ones that come back every year, the salmon.”

“As long as we don’t let garbage get into the water, and we stay away in the fall and spring when they are making their trips up and down the creek, they will be fine. We have to make sure we don’t get in the way when the bears are fishing. I’ll be there are more around here that will come to get fat.”

“Will they hibernate? I don’t think it will get cold like it used to,” Ari asked.

“That’s a good question. We’ll have to watch and see what happens. Go get your bathing suit on under your tee shirt and shorts.”

Arimina scampered up the stairs her ringlets bouncing. Alicia wondered what they were going to do without conditioners. Was there anything that Killika could recommend to help her detangle her daughter’s hair and what about her own? Thinking about it, she could shear her own down close to her skull. Arimina’s wasn’t as tightly kinked though, and she loved her curls.

Chay came in from the garage, with a bag full of rock anchors, the hardware to make a ladder, and the tools to put it together all haphazardly piled into an extra large duffel bag.

“Did you hear motorcycles?” he asked.

“I thought I did. We’re far enough from the road here, I wasn’t sure about it though.”

“I’m going to take Erik and Hakan with me later and take a hike up the canyon trail to your old place. I have the sneaking suspicion they might be squatting.”

“Be careful. I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who shot Ursa. With the way the road is, and the fact the repairs are stalled, the troopers have pretty much given up on getting out here to help us.”

“Yeah, Erik made it into the station a couple of days ago, and Sarge told him he’s deputized. They’ve got their hands full trying to keep the peace in the city. There’s no word on how soon any tourism will return. The Al-Can highway is wrecked, so supplies aren’t getting here unless it’s by air or sea.” Chay sounded resigned to their fate.

“Then we take care of ourselves.”

“We do.” Chay turned to watch as Arimina came down the stairs, jumping from one to the next as Jazz followed her.

“We’re ready for a swim, and to help you put up those rungs on the side of the canyon.” Alicia said as she grabbed the picnic basket she filled earlier.

“I put my truck inside the garage. I’ll arm the alarms, and let’s get out of here. We’re late, I think. Hakan, Armaruq and Kanti are bringing their crew up. Your parents and brother are coming to swim as well.”

“Good thinking on the truck, those thugs destroy anything they see unattended.”

“What happens if Ursa is there with her cubs?” Arimina asked.

“Then Jazz will get her to go away. Besides it’s your job to ring the bear bell. She’ll run if we warn her.” Chay pulled the back air lock door closed. It worked as well for keeping the heat out now, as it had in the middle of an Arctic snowstorm.

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“Rico, there’s a big ranch down at the end of the road. Lots of people, maybe a big source of money. They have a runway, planes and horses.” Paulie sounded pleased with his discovery.

“Leave it alone. They probably have a lot of guns, and people watching their boundaries.”

“Yeah, but there’s some damn fine looking women around.”

“Fucking think with something other than your cock Paulie,” Rico fumed. “We’re heading down to Juneau. We can’t get back into Anchorage, and we’re almost out of supplies here. Time to hit the road.”

“Rico?” Grange strode in through the gaping wall. The tarps protecting the damaged house flapped idly in the breeze. He splashed through a puddle on the floor. Rain was an everyday thing now. Late afternoon brought showers with occasional thunder.

Dirty towels and sheets littered the hallways, rotting food scraps were starting to grow mold on the counters, and the bathrooms were a disaster area of grimy bathtub rings and urine spatters.

“Yeah, speak.” Rico commanded.

“Let’s leave. Paulie didn’t tell you, he’s been causing trouble on that ranch.”

“There’s one more house up the street. See if we can loot it?”

“Already checked. Wouldn’t bother. It’s locked up tight, and from the tracks around it, there’s one big dog patrolling. We’re running low on ammo for the guns, we need to replace more before we try for any more supplies.”

“And next time you replace Paulie running wild, shoot him. He might be my brother, but he’s going to bring trouble.”

“What the fuck, Rico?” Paulie turned on his brother, fists raised. “Why the hell do you care if I screw around? Can’t get up yourself?”

Rico pulled his fist back, and unleashed a swift right hook, to his brother’s face. Paulie staggered backward, tripped on a box of empty beer bottles, and fell over striking the corner of the counter with his temple as he collapsed.

“Leave him there. If he lives, he’s on his own.” Rico raised his fingers to his lips to whistle for the gang. As the members of his gang sauntered into the glass littered great room, he scanned the faces.

“Meg, can you drive a bike?” Rico asked.

“Yeah.” Her voice sounded like a rusty gate.

“Good, take Paulie’s Harley. Grab his keys. He’s not coming with us.”

Meg smirked as she rummaged through Paulie’s pockets. She unhooked the chain connected his keys to his belt loop and dropped them into the front of her bra.

“We’re done here, let’s hit the road,” Rico kicked the entry to the garage open, breaking it loose. The rest of the gang filed out behind him and Grange tugged the big double garage doors open.

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Catherine Ingersoll limped onto the lodge porch, tears streaming, as she cradled her right arm. She rang the triangle hanging beside the logs supporting the overhanging roof and slid down to wait on the bench beside the stops. From her vantage point she could see most of the corral behind the barn, and her horse was back ahead of her. Her faithful gelding lathered in sweat, with an empty saddle, buried his nose in the water trough.

She reached up with her good arm and rang the triangle again, putting everything she had into it. The clanging call echoed across the meadow, and her brother stomped out of his office in the barn. She knew he hated to be interrupted in the middle of paperwork, but she needed help. Bingo, her big appaloosa, needed to be walked and cooled down. She needed to see a doctor. Her arm was screaming daggers of pain from her shoulder to her wrist.

Silently, her body shook, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning. She forced the memory of what happened down. She didn’t want the images to haunt her. She was alive and that was all that counted.