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Into the Woods (CA - Uno, Mark, & the Shepherds)

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Mark's shoulders dropped. "You can't tell me either," he surmised.

He shook his head slowly, and shrugged. "Just... don't worry about it. Bob said it wasn't a sure thing. I get it. I'm not on the inside of this thing and you can't tell me anything until--unless--I am."

But there was a familiar determination in his eyes that said something entirely different: there's no way I'm walking away if I have a chance to help these people, especially if they're the ones Kimberly died for.

“I’m sorry.” Tara sighed. “You’re a good guy, and smart. I trust you. I wish I could.” She rubbed her arm.

“If you come to the answer…” she plucked up her bag and waved her hand for him to continue, feeling frustrated and unsatisfied.

Mark seemed to have little doubt that he would come to the answer. He had no intention of simply forgetting about it, not now that he knew it involved Kimberly's death. But he said little more as they continued their trek in the dark. The beam of his flashlight focused steadily on the path ahead.

"Bob didn't mention..." he said after a little while, "How long we're going to be up here? I mean, I don't think he did. But I didn't sleep too well last night so he might've and I just missed it."

"That's probably a good question to ask when we get to him."

And eventually, they did get to him, even if it wasn't until well after their lungs felt like they would collapse and their legs were burning.

Tara came out from between the natural stone arch and stepped onto the table, overlooking a sky of sea of trees and blanketed beneath a sky of stars. She breathed in the air, rich with soil, pine and the minerals of the slab.

Bob was already asleep in a tent, so she looked for her new partner instead.

I was still up when they approached. Chapman was asleep, just as he promised he'd be from his heart meds. I watched them as a tiny speck from far away in the distance - the moonlight and stars more than enough by which for me to see them - until Tara and Mark grew on the horizon to lifesize.

I don't know if I was more surprised that Mark hadn't fled back to civilization yet or Tara hadn't made good on her promise to stay in the camper. But there Tara led him along blindly into the den of the wolves.

"Hey," I said, more for Mark's benefit than Tara's because I really couldn't remember what human eyes could make out and what they couldn't. I gave a nod in the direction to the tent, then added, "There's plenty of room in the tent... depending on your definition of room... but it's probably warmer in there than out here. Sleeping bags are already set up inside".

Even for a guy who hadn't been camping much--ever--there exists a deep ancestral human comfort that emanates from coming upon the light and warmth of a camp fire in the dark wilderness...

Only, there was no fire. So there was no such feeling. The camp was dark. And the ancestral feeling of coming upon others you sort of knew but could barely see in the dark was... less welcoming. The night hadn't seemed so chilly before they'd gone up the hiking trail. Walking kept most of him warm. But his nose and hands were numb by now.

Bob must have gone to bed before dark. Not surprising. He'd done the same thing yesterday.

And Val... Val was clearly... Stargazing. Mark switched off his flashlight respectfully. It took his eyes a minute to adjust, though he registered the midnight blue of the sky and thousands of the brightest stars the moment his flashlight quenched. Being able to make out the shadowy forms of the tent, Tara, and Val, and many of the dimmer stars in the darkness took a few more minutes.

"Thanks," he said to Val. He shoved the flashlight and his icy hands into his pockets and looked up at the sky.

"Wow," he breathed after a moment. "You don't see skies like this in the city, that's for sure."

Tara stared up in admiration.

"Makes you feel so small." she commented, walking forward until she was but a couple yards from the lip of the table.

Dropping her bag, she took off the rolled up blanket that was clipped to the bottom of it - one of those stripey, multi colored acrylic ones like you saw in every truck stop. She slung it over her shoulder, then fished around for something else - soon producing a thermos.

Opening the top, which unscrewed into two mugs, she poured out the contents into each mug and walked over to Val and Mark in turn, handing them each a cup. It was a medley of vegetables and short, hallow noodles in a tomato chicken broth. Then she took the blanket off her shoulder and wrapped it snugly around Mark's shoulders.

Finally she returned to her spot by the backpack and sat with her legs crossed in front of her and stared out at that expanse.

"Would you guys go to the moon if you had the chance?" she asked, dropping her head backwards over her shoulders and looking at them in turn from her upside-down perspective.

I let the silence unfurl itself until we were just three people beneath the milky ways. I guess we weren't strangers - anyone was more than strangers, when you went stargazing together- but there was still an uncertainty with what to proceed with next. Small-talk wasn't my strength, and I wasn't inclined to make a poor attempt of it now.

I took the warm soup with a grateful nod. My fingers had gone a little numb in the chill of the air. Not enough to really be bothered by it, but thankful certainly to have something hot to hold.

I took a second-glance at Tara. We were apparently going to be colleagues in short-order, and whatever I'd observed of her already had been only in passing. I knew nothing about her, besides Bob's stamp of approval.

That's when she craned her neck and asked me about the moon.

My first instinct was for a cold sweat.

My second instinct was to not start blurting about moon phases, and to actually listen a second before Mark realized we had him surrounded and he was too far away from civilization to make a break for it.

"No, there's no atmosphere," I replied dryly, holding on to the crisp tone of my voice.  Because apparently when in doubt, I deferred to bad puns.

Mark accepted the soup and blanket gratefully and found himself a place to sit (a small boulder that looked like the side had been scooped out, and worn down until it was smooth almost like it was meant to be a chair.) It took him a second to catch Val's joke. He scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion--then his face cleared as the second meaning dawned on him and he laughed.

"Oh, that was terrible," he said, chuckling. "Terrible!" But he couldn't help but laugh again, this time at the fact that it had taken him a minute to catch on.

He sipped the soup and hummed his appreciation for it. After swallowing, he leaned back and said to Tara, "I'd go in a heartbeat. Did you get to see the broadcast, back in '69 when Armstrong took mankind's first steps up there? I was nine. Most exciting moment of my life. I thought they were going to have houses up there by now, and I was going to live in one." He chucked again. "And accidentally discover underground moon natives while digging up my sprinkler system. I was such a weird kid."

Tara screwed her face up with a smile and rolled her eyes, before turning her attention on Mark.

"Lord, how old was I? Six or seven.." well, now the math was out there. Oh well. Their knowing couldn't make her any older. "You were goofy. We coulda been friends." she mused.

"My Dad thought it was a hoax. No way, it's not natural, it's a conspiracy, it's impossible. Total downer, man. I pretended to agree with him, while deciding to myself that if we ever stopped in Houston, I was going to break into NASA, and I would be this child-wonder, who sparked the awe of all of the scientists, and they'd decide to send me to the moon, and I would absolutely save the world from a massive invasion single-handedly. It wasn't a fantasy, it was a fact of life. I was on that kick for a good few years."

She decided to leave out the part where she started imagining that all of the werewolf people could go live on the moon, away from humanity, where they could be safe and build a werewolf space exploration program, and then werewolves would actually become the first aliens and would travel from world to world. That was a bit too much for Mark.

Now she leaned forward onto her belly and crawled on it until she was at the edge of the platform, resting one elbow on the ice cold rock, letting the other arm dangle over the precipice.

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