The next step called for retrieving the other cars. A detail almost overlooked, Heidi had realized at the last minute the necessity of having all the cars parked nearby. Afterwards, they surely would want to leave quickly. None of them would feel like traipsing back through the woods. It would take too much time. Hounded by a sense of urgency, their one thought would center on getting away. They may have coated the deed beforehand with the intellectual imprimatur of the end justifying the means, but deep down, they all knew the truth. No matter how they cut it, the powers-that-be would never buy it. Destruction of another’s property, regardless of how noble or high-minded the cause, constituted a crime, a crime for which the penalty might be very severe.
The keys to both cars had been left in the ignition. Mitch took Heidi’s car first and drove it to the construction site. Lisa was there waiting for him. He got in beside her and they drove back to the filling station. She dropped him off a second time, and a few minutes later he was back at the site with Jody’s car.
Heidi and the others had assembled near one of the partially completed condos. They had waited there while the guard was being subdued. They did not want to act prematurely or to make the assumption that all would go well. Before they began a wrecking operation, they wanted to be sure the guard had been neutralized.
They all walked over to where Mitch and Lisa had parked the cars.
“So it went okay?” Heidi wanted to know.
“He’ll be out for a while,” Mitch confirmed. He had calmed down from a few minutes earlier: the anger had subsided and now he felt level-headed and lucid, able to view the situation from the standpoint of inevitable necessity.
“Will he be okay?”
“He’ll probably look for another line of work after tonight,” Mitch said, eliciting one or two chuckles. “But other than that…”
“It’s unfortunate that we had to involve an innocent bystander,” Heidi said. “But, in warfare, there’s always collateral damage.”
“Maybe we oughta just get started,” Mitch said. “How long is all this gonna take, anyway?”
Over a potluck dinner consisting of barbecued spareribs, potato salad, homemade tacos, a tasty lasagna, a slow-simmered batch of chili, lemon meringue pie, German chocolate cake, numerous bottles of wine, and three or four kinds of imported beer, they had debated whether to set fire to the structures or simply to do as much damage as otherwise possible. Initially, thinking it all a bad idea in any case, Mitch had remained neutral; but everyone else thought a roaring inferno, visible for miles out across the valley, would have the greatest impact. The Oregonian newspaper was sure to give it front-page coverage, and local television channels would feature it as a prominent part of their newscast. Someone even suggested that Tony bring along a video camera so as to post it on the Internet.
A resounding burst of approval had gone up and down the table and, resuming the meal, everyone thought the matter settled. But then Mitch had pointed out the obvious. What, he wondered, would happen if such a conflagration got out of hand? A good portion of the surrounding woods might catch fire and burn down several hundred acres of forest. What would this do to their credibility as environmental activists? Burning down condos was one thing, but the careless destruction of prime forest land would not only contradict their reason for the fire in the first place—it would make them look absurd.
As the others immediately realized the implications, a prolonged silence had followed. As much as any of them favored a course of action that would definitely get out the message, they had to admit Mitch was right. Like it or not, they needed another plan.
Several exchanges later, and accompanied by another round of spirits, they came up with an alternative. It didn’t allow as much for the spectacular as the first option, but it did have potential for putting a crimp in the developers’ plans. It offered less of a major hurdle on the way to fruition than it did a bump in the road. But it was better than discarding the idea altogether. The Cleveland escapade, as well as the Mobley Johnson stunt, had put wind in their sails, and they were now beginning to feel like full-fledged activists, ready and able to take on more. Their string of luck thus far precluded any real examination of their goals, not to mention their primary reason for being, and they were determined to press ahead, despite whatever adjustment a circumstance required.
The circumstance in this case limiting them to Plan B, they set about implementing it with gusto. They had no notion ahead of time as to what they would find inside, but the on-site tool shed offered a tantalizing way to begin.
Using a rock, Carlos pounded open the padlock and pulled aside the metal door. Flashlight in hand, he surveyed the interior as might an explorer the interior of a newly opened cave long lost from history.
“Santo Cristo!” he whispered.
“What is it, Carlos?”
“Look-it all this!”
The others gathered around and peered inside. What they saw represented the contents of a condensed version of Lowe’s tool department. Besides a couple of wheelbarrows, a small generator, an air compressor, and a welding machine, there were sledgehammers, picks and shovels, a couple of nail guns, two kegs of nails, Skilsaws, electric drills, two extension ladders, and several other items. All of it was the kind of equipment one might expect to find at the site of a construction project, and it had been left there precisely because a security guard had been assigned to guard it against vandalism and theft.
“I think we hit pay dirt,” Heidi said.
“Yeah, but what’ll we do with it?” Tony asked.
Squeezing between the rest of them, Whit stepped inside and picked up a Skilsaw. Running his finger over the blade, he allowed as how they might use it to cut some of the supporting timbers already in place.
“We could fire up the generator,” he said.
“What a great idea!” Mike agreed.
Heidi looked at Carlos.
“What do you think?”
“Man, I haven’t got time to show anyone how to use these things. Unless you know what you’re doing, I wouldn’t mess with it.”
“I daresay he’s right,” Ralph opined judiciously. “We don’t need to risk someone getting a finger cut off, or worse.”
“Why don’t we chuck it all over the side of the hill?”
Everyone turned to look at Jody.
“It drops off in front of the site, a good fifty feet. Let’s just hurl it all down there. And the same with the truck,” she added, referring to a flatbed, on-site vehicle. “Let’s drive it right over the edge.”
“Boy, that’ll really piss ’em off,” Tony chortled.
Heidi looked at the rest of them.
“We haven’t got time to draw straws,” Mitch said. “Let’s just do it.”
“Do we have to carry all of it? Some of it looks pretty heavy.”
“We’ll save the little stuff for you, Tony.” Carlos laughed. “That way you don’t have to worry about a hernia.”
“What about just loading it on to the back of the truck and driving it over all at once? Wouldn’t that save time?”
“Good suggestion, Lisa. I’ll see if I can get it started,” Mitch said.
“The key’s in it,” Jody said.
“How do you know?”
“Heidi and I had a chance to check it all out during the three nights we were out here.”
“How come we didn’t know all this earlier, when we were talking about it?”
“It wasn’t part of the original plan, Mitch. We were going to burn the place down, remember?”
“Yeah, well…Anything else we oughta know about?”
“There’s a bulldozer at the other end.”
“No shit?” Carlos exclaimed. “A real bulldozer? Do you know how much damage you can do with a bulldozer?”
“This is getting more fun all the time,” Tony said, grabbing Mike excitedly by the arm.
“We’re certainly not wanting for means, are we?” Mike said.
“But we are for time,” Mitch reminded them.
“Yes, we’d better get moving,” Lisa said, looking at her watch. “That guard won’t be out indefinitely.”
“I’ll tell you what, you guys take care of this stuff, load it onto the truck, and I’ll go down and see if I can start the dozer. Okay?”
“That sounds like a plan, Carlos,” Heidi said. “Mitch…Whit—one of you wanna start the truck?”
“I’ll do it. Is that okay with you, Mitch?”
“Hey, break a leg, Whit!”
While Carlos trotted off to see if he could start the bulldozer, the rest of the group set about emptying the shed of most of its contents. With the flatbed backed up to within six feet of the doorway, coils of wire, extension cords, ropes, ladders, nail guns, the generator, compressor, even three sets of rain gear, and all the rest of it—all got tossed or hefted onto the truck. The only items that got left behind were the two kegs of nails. Having the density of small boulders, their weight proved more than anyone wanted to contend with; instead, on an impulse, Whit gave each one a solid kick, which spilled a couple thousand four-inch nails almost the length of the shed.
Ten minutes later, they administered the coup de grace.
Whit drove the truck to within three yards of where the property plummeted down a fifty-foot dirt slope, to a line of trees below. With the throttle depressed, he shifted into the lowest gear, opened the driver’s door, and jumped out. On its own, the truck ground forward until its front wheels hung over the edge, giving it a slight tilt. At that point it teetered for a moment, as though it might not go the rest of the way, but the material piled on it slid forward just enough to displace the weight onto the front axle. Like a sinking ship suddenly upending into a vertical position and plunging straight down, it crashed into the darkness.
“My God, that was something,” Jody uttered more to herself than to the others.
“We did it, though, huh?” Tony said, as awed as the rest of them.
“We sure as hell did,” Mitch muttered.
“Good job, Whit. You did yourself proud.”
“Thank you, Heidi.”
Jason lit his pipe.
“It’s a temporary setback, of course, and I’m sure they’ll resume operations very quickly, much as though nothing happened. But it’s bound to generate a few dinner table conversations, wouldn’t you say?”
“That would make me feel that it was all worth it.”
“It would make us all feel that way, Heidi. We’re all a part of this, you know,” Lisa corrected her.
“Maybe we oughta see how Carlos is doing…” Mitch suggested.
“What time is it?”
Mitch looked at his watch.
“Almost three-thirty. We’ve been at it close to an hour. That guy’ll be waking up pretty soon, if he’s not awake already.”
“I agree,” Lisa said. “We should hurry.”
The machine Carlos had chosen to tackle resembled a squat, wide-bodied version of an early John Deere farmer’s tractor with the exhaust pipe sticking out the top of the engine hood. Known as a tilt dozer, it had a rollover protection structure that looked like a four-posted metal awning over the operator’s compartment. Compact in size compared to many other models, it nevertheless had a pair of extra wide tracks for low ground pressure in muddy areas. Its operation consisted of a few basics and, with a little coordination, could be picked up fairly quickly. The blade itself had a variable pitch capacity and could be leaned forward and back or up and down.
Carlos’ familiarity with such a piece of machinery stemmed from his days working as a construction worker on small building projects. He had not been trained in the heavy equipment field per se, but like many individuals in the building trades, much of his experience had overlapped. Being a professional carpenter, he also knew a little about plumbing, electrical installation, cement work, and cabinetry. And on several work sites he had had a chance to operate a bulldozer.
In the time the others had been cleaning out the storage shed and driving the contents off a cliff, after several false starts with the ignition switch, he had managed to turn the engine over. The dozer had sputtered and coughed a half-dozen times, but had finally kicked into life. He now had the choke set at a smooth idle and was waiting for the engine to warm up.
“Where you been?” he joked. “I’m all ready to go here.”
The others walked up and stood nearby. With the light from their flashlights, they could see what looked to them like a formidable object, parked between a pile of sand on one side and a mound of gravel on the other.
“You got it started, huh?”
“I told you I would. We gotta first-class battering ram workin’ for us now. And I’m gonna show ya how to do the job right.”
Putting it in gear, Carlos backed the dozer clear of the sand and gravel and pulled it around so that it lined up with the corner of the nearest structure. Gunning the engine, he pulled a lever that raised the blade, shifted into a forward gear, and trundled ahead.
The impact of the tank-like piece of machinery moving with inexorable force against a partially completed, two-story wooden structure had an immediate effect. As the corner post, along with five or six of its members, cracked inward, the entire framework shook and, with a prolonged scrunching sound reminiscent of fingernails raking across a blackboard, slumped off the vertical by a good fifteen degrees.
Captivated by the demonstration of sheer, brute power, an awed silence again overwhelmed everyone, though a moment later gave way to a spontaneous outburst of whoops and cheers.
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!” Carlos called out happily.
The others quieted down and waited to see what would happen next.
Carlos did not disappoint them. With practiced ease, he swung the dozer back and then brought it over to the opposite side of the structure. Lining it up as before, he rumbled forward and drove directly into the second corner post.
The impact was no less than before. With almost half its supports gone, the structure staggered into a precarious equilibrium that threatened to collapse it onto its cement foundation as though it were a large beast expiring into the dust.
Preparing for the death blow, he backed the dozer up one more time for a broadside run at the outside wall of the square structure. Maneuvering the machine into place so that it faced the wall at a perpendicular angle, he shifted into forward gear. He set his foot against the accelerator pedal and commenced to push down, but at the same moment heard a yell.
“Whit—what the fuck ya doin’?”
As the machine surged ahead, Carlos turned just in time to see Whit run up and jump onto the moving track. Landing on his feet solidly enough, Whit attempted to grab hold of a bar, but the machine lurched ahead. In an instant, his hand had slipped off the bar, and he toppled over backwards, falling on his head between the inside of the track and the body of the dozer. Unbelievably, the impact crushed his head like a ripe melon, and blood and brain matter squirted out as though from a small geyser.
Carlos shut the machine off and sat there, simply staring at Whit’s body.
The others hurried over.
Heidi shined her flashlight on Whit’s face. She could see immediately that he was dead.
Carlos climbed down and shined his own light on him. “The fucker’s dead,” he said. “What’d he do that for?”
Tony came up and tentatively touched Dalt on the shoulder. He saw the blood and the brain matter, and turned away.
The others came up and looked. No one could quite believe it had happened.
“What the fuck did he think he was doin’?” Carlos said again. “That was crazy.”
Reflexively, unthinkingly, Ralph took hold of Whit’s wrist and held it a moment. Realizing the pointlessness of the gesture, he let it drop.
“What do we do now?” Misty asked in a scared voice, taking Ralph’s hand.
No one said anything. No one had an answer.
“I don’t suppose we could bury him?” Mike suggested.
“Not without shovels,” Mitch said “and we just tossed the only ones we had over a cliff.”
The silence that followed had a frozen quality about it. For what seemed like a minute or more, no one said anything or even so much as moved. The implications for any of them, either as a group or as individuals, were as yet unknown, but the fact that they had a dead man on their hands presented a reality none of them had bargained for, much less thought about. It was as though somebody had blown a whistle in the night, and realizing they had been caught in the act, they could only stand and look on helplessly.
“Maybe we should just take him to a hospital?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tony,” Mike said. “They wouldn’t be able to do anything for him. He’s dead.”
“We could just leave him there…at the emergency room entrance.”
“It’s not like we wouldn’t be seen, Tony. And they would have to notify the police. It’d only be a matter of time before they’d track us down.”
“I’m afraid he’s right,” Mitch said. “Anything like that is bound to get us involved with the police. And I don’t know about the rest of you, but it’s not something I want to go to bed tonight thinking about.”
“Well, what are we gonna do, then?”
“The first thing we’re gonna do is not panic, Tony…we’ll figure out something.”
“My God! I hope so!”
“Why don’t we just leave him here?” Lisa brought out suddenly.
Everyone looked at her.
“We can’t do that,” Jody said. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“Yeah, we can’t just go off and leave him,” Misty said, shaking her head.
“Sure we can. Just pull him off into the woods. We can notify the authorities later.”
“That’d be pretty cold, wouldn’t it?”
“Do you have a better idea, Jody?”
“No…but…”
“Does anyone?’
No one said anything.
“Heidi, what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But we can’t stand here all night debating it. We have to do something. So…maybe…it’s our only option.”
“Good. Then let’s do it. We’re wasting time.”
“Let’s take a vote on it.”
“We’re wasting time, Jody. And a vote won’t make any difference because we don’t really have a choice here. And I’m not about to implicate myself by observing the niceties. As you said earlier, Heidi, in a war, there’s always collateral damage, and that’s what this is. We can’t be sentimental about it.”
“Lisa’s right, you know,” Mitch said. “We’ve said all along that there’s real risk involved, and tonight proves it. So either we accept it now or we just throw in the towel.”
“It just doesn’t seem right,” Jody persisted. “He should at least have a burial. After all, he was one of us, wasn’t he? And wouldn’t we do the same for any of the rest of us?”
“I’m with Lisa,” Carlos said. “We’re all gonna get our ass in a sling here if we don’t make a move soon.”
“If we do it, there’s no turning back,” Ralph reminded everyone. “You realize that, don’t you? And it’s a secret we’ll have to bear, unless we want to face some kind of manslaughter charge, along with vandalism or whatever they might choose to call this.”
“That’s five of us, so far. What about you, Heidi?”
“I guess I’m with you, Lisa.”
“Tony? Mike?”
“Count us, too.”
“What about it, Jody? You gonna be the only hold-out?”
“All right. But we have to do something afterwards to memorialize him. I mean, we can’t just dump him and leave him.”
“None of us is opposed to that. We can have a little ceremony, do it up right.”
“I think I’m gonna get drunk, myself,” Carlos said. “But let’s do it.”
The five men lugged Whit into an area of the woods bordering the construction site and left him sitting against a tree. Afterwards, everyone stood in a semicircle and bowed their heads in a moment of silence. Mike, the Classicist of the bunch, brought out the fact that the ancient Greeks had allowed for the bodies of their fallen enemies to be retrieved from the field of battle so they could receive a decent burial. The exact relevance of the allusion escaped the others, but it did lend a forgiving touch of nobility to what, otherwise, amounted to a boneheaded stunt.
Heidi, who had known Whit longer than the others, started to mention how devoted he was to his poetry, but Lisa cut her short.
“We can have a memorial service later,” she said. “Right now, we have to think of the time.”
With that, the gloomy occasion ended, and a few minutes later they were all back at the cars.
“What do we do now?” Tony asked.
“Go home and go to bed, Tony,” Carlos said. “Whatta ya think?”
“I just asked.”
Heidi intervened: “We’ve all had a rough night. It’s ended badly. Go home and get some rest. I’ll call everyone later.”
“Yeah, Heidi, you do that. We’ll all sit by our phones and wait.”