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Lauren was up before dawn. She had their tent broken down before Rowan could finish breakfast. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and the group made quick work of the morning duties.
“Which way?” Jean-René asked.
“Up through the trees,” Lauren pointed.
Rowan stayed close to her. The story she told the night before had him unsettled. He’d been up most of the night, chewing over it. He was trying to figure where it had come from and what she could have meant, if anything at all. Since finding her like a statue in the meadow, she’d seemed — different. He didn’t like it.
* * *
Lauren struck off ahead of the group, moving at twice her normal gait. Her pack didn’t seem to be weighing her down any. Rowan had to work to keep up. He breathed hard as they broke through the dense underbrush an hour later, into the public camping area.
The campsite stood empty and even the rangers paused in stunned amazement at the devastation they saw. The campsite was in ruins, ransacked. The fire rings were upended. The solid sheets of metal lay crushed like broken wagon wheels. The metal barbecue grills were broken off of their stands and crushed. Even the concrete picnic tables were smashed.
Rowan stood in shock at the devastation. Even the timbers placed as parking barricades at the trail head below lay about as if they’d been tossed aside like cabers at a Highland festival.
From campsite, to campsite the destruction continued. “This was done recently,” Katie said. “Look at the trash. Not many animals have gotten at it. This was maybe not in the past day or two, but within the last week.”
“I take it this is worse than the reports indicated?” Bahati asked the ranger.
“Much worse,” Katie said, as they approached the bank of bathhouses in the middle of the camping area. The frosted glass windows near the rooftops had been busted out, and the doors ripped off their hinges. Inside, the metal partitions between the showers and toilet stalls had been pushed over and crumpled like tinfoil. One of the toilets had been shattered and the floor was flooded. Water gurgled from the broken bowl.
* * *
Rowan was outside the men’s shower, kneeling down by the wall, snapping pictures when Lauren came up behind him. “What’d you find?”
“It looks like blood,” he said. “Do we have a DNA sample kit?”
“Of course,” she said. She shrugged off her pack.
“Did you know we’d find this?” He asked, looking up at her.
She paused. “Tsul’Kalu did not do this,” she stated. “But the Rabbit wants you to think he did.”
“Who is the Rabbit, Lauren?”
“The Leader of Them in All the Mischief,” she said, handing him the kit.
“You’re talking in riddles,” Rowan said. “What’s gotten into you? Ever since yesterday, you seem to be in a place where I can never go. I feel disconnected from this place in you.” He caught her hand. “I can’t protect you there.” It made him even more determined to protect her here.
Her lips thinned as she hesitated. “Rowan, the People are threatened, and it is the Rabbit who is behind it. We must find the Rabbit and put a stop to his mischief. He must be shown justice ... and soon.” She took the kit back curtly when he didn’t move to collect the evidence fast enough, and bent to take the sample herself. She dabbed at the spatters of blood with the moist cotton swab and then returned it to the vial. She sealed it with the evidence tape, taking a marker from her jacket pocket, initialing it. She placed it in a plastic bag, peeling off the strip that covered the sealing tape. She initialed it as well. She also took out a Chain of Custody form for the lab and filled it out. Whatever had gotten into her, the scientist was still in there too. Despite her agitation, it gave Rowan a sense of comfort, even though he was less-than-happy about this new aspect of his fiancée. She tucked away the sample, looking up when they heard Jean-René’s excited shout from a nearby site.
“Wait,” Rowan caught her arm, pointing to the print on the metal door that lay crumpled on the ground a few feet away. Lauren’s jaw dropped and she rose slowly, taking a tentative step forward. “What the hell is that?” Rowan was on her heels.
“Tsul’Kalu was here,” Lauren said. Her voice went shadowy.
A deep rumble echoed through the ground; pine needles showered them from above. The ground lurched beneath their feet. The blood-curdling scream that erupted from Bahati’s throat echoed off the trees around them. She threw her arms around Jean-René. In the distance, a mournful bale answered, as the rumbling subsided. Lauren smiled brightly. She patted Bahati’s back. “Tsul’Kalu says hello to you, too.”
“Was that an earthquake?” Bahati’s eyes went wide. “Seriously, you felt that, right?”
“How could we not?” Rowan snapped.
“We are sitting on an active volcano, remember?” Pauline asked.
“It’s not going to erupt is it?”
Pauline shrugged. “Eventually.”
“Dammit.”