K Nilsen - The Yellowstone Traps

“If you don’t mind, I would like to address you by your proper name,” said the officer in a polite tone.

“I’m Jim Bottomly. I manage the coop here.”

“Very well, Mr. Bottomly, Jim, you obviously have a hand in this.”

The coop manager admitted nothing.

“Someone is at the top of the elevator. Do you know how many?”

“Two. I don’t think there is anybody else left.”

“What is their purpose?”

“Well,” Jim sighed, “they’re not willing to let the grain go.”

“Are they well armed?”

Bottomly looked the officer squarely in the eye. “And if they are?”

Hampstead scratched the short stubble on the top of his head. “Jim, my orders are to get the grain out under any circumstances. I told you, other Guard units have encountered resistance elsewhere. In every case, Jim, the Guard has prevailed.”

“What do you want me to do?” Jim asked.

“You can get up there, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then I want you to tell them to come out with you immediately, no questions asked. We don’t want to hurt anyone. If they don’t come out, though, we will use force.”

“What are you going to do to those poor bastards? That’s their grain, sir.”

“Not anymore,” grumbled the man in the FEMA jacket.

Captain Hampstead folded his hands. “If they don’t come out, we’ll put a shell in the works up there.”

“You can’t do that,” Jim screeched.

The officer sat tightlipped.

“You set off a charge up there and we’re going to lose those towers. They’re half full. There’s grain dust everywhere. Look, you’ve got….”

“Never mind,” the officer snapped. “Do you know those men well?”

“Very well.”

“Are they your neighbors?”

“Yes.”

“Then do them a favor and talk to them. Bring them down. Tell them they are going to be evacuated with the rest of the townspeople anyway in a week or two—alive. Tell them that. There will be no charges filed against them if they come peacefully. They’ve got twenty-four hours. Once we mend that rail, they had better be down and gone.”

Bottomly’s heart sank. He buried his head in his hands.

“Can you do that?” asked the FEMA agent.

“I can, yes!”

The coop manager walked into the cavernous expanse of the towers and got aboard the man-lift. He threw the breaker and up he went. In several seconds the lift stopped. Bottomly shouted up the shaft and told the boys above to engage the breaker on the headhouse floor so he could reach the top.

Percy Bliss pulled Bottomly off the lift and Harland came over to round out the trio.

“What do you have, Jim?”

Jim ground his teeth together. “Boys, it’s time you came down.”

“Not going to happen,” said Harland.

“I talked to the field officer down there. He says if you don’t come out within twenty-four hours, things are going to get hot up here.”

“Okay, Jim, tell whoever he is down there that we’ve got a job to do up here. Our job is to keep the grain here in Sweetly. That’s what I’m going to do. Percy and these folks can leave if they want.”

“I’m staying put,” insisted Bliss. The couple backed away toward the lift.

“All right then, Percy and I are staying. But I want you to throw a monkey wrench in the works when you go down. You tell the guy in charge that our flanks are protected. If the Guard fires on us, then there are men in strategic locations around the perimeter of the coop that will fire on the Guard.”

Jim Bottomly’s eyes swelled to saucer size. “What? I didn’t know that.”

“Just tell him that for me, Jim. Make him understand that.”

“Jesus, double Jesus! Okay, okay. But I’m going to tell him I had no idea.”

“Fine, just tell him.”

The coop manager’s blood pressure spiked. He felt faint.

“And another thing, Jim,” said Harland. “Is that a fighting force down there or is it just a bunch of fellas moving ash around?”

Jim pondered the question. “I don’t know, Harland. I didn’t see a thing that looked like real firepower.”

The coop manager turned and stepped back on the lift. Before flipping the breaker he called out to Harland. “You’ve got twenty-four hours. That’s what they told me. They’ve got to get a new rail in here anyway. They’ve got to pull one up from a siding somewhere and bring it up here. So it will be a while before they do anything, I guess.”

At that Jim disappeared down the shaft. The couple followed, leaving Percy and Harland to their fate.

Percy watched them vanish below before turning to Harland. “Now, where did you come up with that, Harland?”

“Look at it this way, Percy,” the tall weathered Swede frowned, “if the troops down there think we’re the only thing between them and the grain, then all their focus will be on us. Now, if they think that they’re being flanked by hostile folks, they are going to think twice about making a move.”

“But nobody’s down there, Harland.”

“Doesn’t matter. All they have to do is think they have a gun at their back. That’s deterrent enough.”

The threshold of the porch at the Blackfoot clinic was something of an obstacle to White Elk, relying heavily on a crutch. The wheelchair ramp entrance beckoned, but he wanted to test his mettle on the steps. Placing the tip of his crutch on the top riser, the elder managed to take a step down, then another so that he could pull up alongside Liz, who was standing alone at the foot of the clinic walk.

“Sinopa tells me you have suffered a great loss.”

Liz simply tipped her head forward.

“I see.”

Liz would not look into the old man’s eyes, as if she were ashamed to gaze upon him.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes, Benjamin.”

“Would you be kind enough to walk with me to the edge of the village? We can shuffle along together. I would like to see the buffalo. They are nearby.”

The scientist placed a hand on the elder’s shoulder to steady him. Together the pair hobbled over hard-packed wind-scoured snows to the limitless prairie expanse at the eastern edge of the North Piegan village. Black humps inched over the plains. White Elk was pleased that the huge beasts were in close proximity. The Blackfoot propped himself in place upon the crutch and surveyed the great herd, oblivious of a biting wind. The breeze burrowed into Liz’s parka, sending chills through the microfiber-fill to her flesh.

“Do you see them there, Elizabeth?”

Barely audible: “Yes, Benjamin.”

“They have been keeping us alive all these weeks.”

Liz didn’t react to White Elk’s observation.

“They are sustaining us now, body and mind. That is why this old man has recovered quickly and why a woman in her prime, with the terrible injuries you had, has prospered.”

“Sinopa says I should be able to travel now.”

“Ah, that is a good thing.”

“I had hoped to build up enough strength to go to my daughter. But it’s too late. I’ve lost her. I haven’t the strength I thought I had.”

“No, you have more in reserve than you think, Elizabeth. You have only to lay aside your grief when you are ready. Your strength is there for you to draw upon when you will need it.”

“I don’t believe that, Benjamin.” Liz paced a few steps away and revolved to face the Blackfoot elder. She remained quiet for thirty seconds.

“All the things that matter to me, Benjamin, they’ve vanished. My daughter is gone. The life we had together is over.” Liz rubbed moisture from her eyes. “What does someone like me do in a world that has disintegrated?”

White Elk thought it wise to let the woman unburden her soul of its anguish. He remained quiet while Liz, wrapping her torso in her arms, shivered before the force of the prairie wind.