Bitter Sweets

pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey in there? Or maybe a Dove bar?”

    “Sorry. This is it.”

    Trying to appear grateful, she accepted the trail mix. After a couple of bites, she was finally able to discern most of the ingredients: sawdust, Styrofoam, balsa wood and-What was that slightly pungent accent flavor?-oh, yes.. . mothballs.

    “Is it lunchtime yet?” Dirk asked, catching up to them.

    “Yeah. Here, you can have mine.” She discreetly slipped the bag to Dirk, while Ryan continued on ahead.

    “Thanks.”

    “Wait until you taste it before you thank me.”

    “What is it?”

    “A little treat to keep our spirits up.”

    Dirk downed the bagful in four bites and didn’t seem to mind the lack of flavor. Maybe there was something to this “swallowing fast” thing.

    A few minutes later, they caught up with Ryan. He was standing silently by the side of the path, motionless, staring at the ground.

    “What is it?” Savannah asked, afraid that she knew.

    Slowly, he took a step backward in their direction. Then another, and another.

    Savannah heard it. The telltale rattle. “Oh, shit!” she whispered, reaching inside her shirt for her Beretta. “It’s a snake. A rattlesnake. Damn, I hate snakes.” Dirk pulled out his Colt and they waited as Ryan crept back toward them.

    “He was sunning himself right there in the middle of the path,” he said when he reached them. “I almost stepped on him.”

    “So, what do we do?” Savannah asked.

    “He was there first,” Ryan replied. “We go around him.”

    “Are there a lot of rattlers out here?” Dirk asked.

    She could tell he was trying to be macho, but his voice sounded a little shaky.

    “This time of year there are zillions of them,” Ryan replied as he forged a circuitous route, leading them on. “But not to worry, they’re all friendly.”

    “Friendly rattlesnakes?” Savannah didn’t believe she had ever heard of a sociable rattler.

    “Yeah. Like that one back there,” Ryan replied. “He was a friendly sort of guy. Didn’t you see him wagging his tail? Just a great big puppy dog.”

    Farther along, they drifted back onto the trail. “Not that l m nervous or anything,” Dirk said, “but we do have a...um...puppy dog bite kit along, don’t we?”

    Ryan patted the side of his backpack. “Right here.”

    “Remind me never to go hiking with you again,” Savannah said, realizing that, sooner or later, she was going to have to drink some of that stuff in her canteen that tasted like frog pee. “This is not my idea of a good time.”

    “It’ll be worth it,” Ryan said. “They’re up here.”

    Savannah’s heart leapt and suddenly she didn’t feel so tired. “Are you sure?”

    He nodded.

    “How do you know?” Dirk asked. Even he sounded encouraged.

    “Footprints. I thought I saw some farther back...a man’s and a child’s. Now, here they are again, and they’re fresh. This time I’m certain.”

    Savannah and Dirk squatted to examine the faint prints Ryan pointed out to them on the hard-packed earth.

    “Well, hell... what are we waiting for?” Dirk said with a determined sniff. “Let’s get going and hope Tonto’s right.”

    “They aren’t here.” Savannah wanted to cry, but her eyes were already irritated by the dust and her own dripping sweat, and she didn’t want to make them worse.

    “So, we dragged our candy asses all the way out here for nothing,” Dirk added, giving Ryan a look that was half aggravation and half I-told-you-so satisfaction. “Nice goin’, Stone.”

    Ryan had led them to the old, abandoned cattle ranch, the focal point of their search being the decrepit ranch house. His best guess had been that Mallock would have sought shelter for his daughter inside the condemned building. Even in its deteriorating condition, it would have been more serviceable than a tent and wouldn’t have to be carried in.

    But the house was empty. A family of squirrels, some bats, a plethora of spiders, and a gopher snake were the only residents. From the even layer of dust and the curtains of undisturbed cobwebs, it appeared the three were the only human visitors for a long time.

    Ryan was unfazed by his companions’ criticism. Standing on the porch, he leaned against a post and assumed a contemplative pose.

    “Actually, it makes sense, if you think about it,” he said. “If you were Mallock, would you stay right here in the house? If I know about this place, that would mean