Whoa there,” Chuck said.
Kaifong’s shoulders slumped even as she kept the gun trained on him. “Randall,” she murmured.
“He was a murderer,” Chuck said.
She studied the ground, her lips pressed together. Then, she squared her shoulders and looked up at Chuck, her eyes shining. “I won’t have you think that of him,” she said. “Not Randall. Not my Randall. He did whatever I told him to do. Always. He was the perfect soldier.”
Chuck gaped at her as she continued.
“We didn’t want this.” She waved the gun around her, taking in Randall’s body, the burning helicopter, and the cabin, where Sarah’s body lay. “He didn’t want this. Any of this. He only thought about the animals—the wolves, the bears. That’s why I brought him in.”
“Wait,” Chuck said, astonished. “What? You brought him in?”
“He was everything I needed, everything I’d been searching for. He had the technical skills, the physical abilities, and, most of all, the desire.”
“He told me he met you at a conference, that he convinced you to join him.”
She inclined her head in the affirmative. “That’s exactly what I wanted him to think. I studied up on him. He was an open book—his beliefs were in everything he wrote, everything he posted online. When I saw he was coming to the conference, I arranged to bump into him.”
“He said you only knew about the wolves. He made it sound like he was running things.”
“That’s what I let him believe. The power of suggestion is an amazing thing. I barely had to mention an idea to him and he was on it, thinking it was his brainchild the whole time. It was even better than that, actually. He thought he was protecting me, when, in fact, it was me constantly protecting him—putting out the piece of meat to be sure the bear and wolf came in close to camp when he pulsed them, herding the dog back across the basin when he got carried away and tried to kill it. I protected him every time, always.”
“But he tried to kill you,” Chuck insisted, “on the lake.”
“I know. I deserved it.”
“What do you mean, you deserved it?”
“He knew what I was capable of. He knew I...I...”
Chuck recalled what Randall had told him just minutes ago in the forest: “I’m not a killer.” His animals, yes. But Randall, himself? No. He’d even admitted he hadn’t fully committed himself to pushing Kaifong at the back of the boat, that he’d barely touched her shoulder.
Chuck gaped at Kaifong. Her grip on the pistol was firm, her hands steady. Her small body was muscle-packed after her summers of work in the park, her shoulders sturdy, her biceps pronounced. She was more than capable of using the folding knife sheathed at her waist as a murder weapon.
“Sarah,” Chuck breathed. He looked into Kaifong’s dark brown eyes. “You.”
“Yes,” she said. “Me.”
“But why?”
“What I’ve been doing with Randall is critically important. But you’ll never understand that. You’re not a biologist; you don’t work with living creatures. It’s different than with your old, rotting baskets. You can’t possibly comprehend the deep understanding those of us who work with animals come to have of their needs, the awareness we develop for how debased they’ve become in our modern world. Here in Yellowstone, people are nothing but a blip on the evolutionary timeline of the wolves and grizzlies. But humans are threatening to destroy the foundation of their existence nonetheless, a foundation they’ve developed over thousands and thousands of years.”
Kaifong’s voice grew cold, steely. “We needed more time. I needed more time. I took the phone. I thought no one saw, but she came up behind me, demanded to know what I was doing. She ran, but I caught her. I just...I just...”
“You killed Sarah,” Chuck finished for Kaifong, his words hard. “You stabbed her to death.”
“I did what I had to do,” Kaifong said, “for the wolves, the bears. My wolves, my bears.” She looked behind her, taking in Randall’s broken body. “Our wolves,” she said, her voice softening. “Our bears.”
While Kaifong’s head was turned, Janelle passed Chuck with purposeful strides. She lashed out with her booted foot, kicking the pistol from Kaifong’s hands. The gun spun away into the darkness. Kaifong swung her head toward Janelle, who centered her foot on Kaifong’s chest and drove her backward to the ground next to Randall.
“Like Clarence said. That’s for Sarah,” Janelle said. She leaned forward, pressing Kaifong into the wet grass.
Chuck whipped off his belt and knelt beside Kaifong. Janelle lifted her foot, and he rolled Kaifong to her stomach and strapped her wrists together at the small of her back.
She grunted as he yanked the belt tight. “That’s for Joe and Rebecca,” he said.
He hoisted Kaifong to her feet and turned with her toward the cabin as the researchers spilled out the front door. Carmelita and Rosie ran to Janelle and buried their faces in her torso.
Lex approached Chuck and Kaifong. “I’ll take her from here,” he said. He pulled the knife from the sheath at Kaifong’s waist and stuck it in his pocket, then pushed her ahead of him across the patch of muddy ground to the cabin. She twisted in the doorway, craning to look at Randall before Lex thrust her forward and they disappeared inside.
Justin, the rookie grizzly researcher, edged past Chuck and Clarence. He extended his cell phone, aiming it at Randall’s body.
Chuck stepped in front of Justin’s phone camera. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Yeah, dude,” Clarence said in a decent imitation of Randall’s voice. “What are you up to, man?”
Justin lowered his phone. “Nothing. I’m not doing anything.” He slipped the phone into his pocket.
Chuck went to Janelle. Carmelita and Rosie put their arms around him, including him in their embrace. Janelle turned her face to his.
“That’s some kick you’ve got,” he told her.
“Let it be a warning to you,” she said. Her face shone in the flickering light of the burning helicopter.
Chuck smiled as he looked at her. Beautiful.
He drew her to him, along with the girls, and looked up at the stars. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled, its cry at once mournful and triumphant, and wild and free.