We’d been hiking for hours when we reached the tunnel. It was dark when we started, but now the sun seemed to be passing right over head. Not that it was hot in the mountains. That wasn’t the worry. It was my wavering emotional stability. The unrelenting bombardment of thoughts doing laps around my head. And I’m not really sure where they came from or why they continued to hound me as we trekked up the endless switchback. But they were there and they made each step a little more painful. A little more weighted.
When I caught up to CJ he had that wild smile plastered on his face. His crooked teeth pointing at me. “You ready to go in?”
I stood sucking wind. Trying to straighten up. Giving in. Resting on my knees. “What?”
“You ready to go in?” He pointed with the hand-held cold steel shovel he’d been fashioning lately. A Russian throwing weapon, essentially. “It’s time to find some grizzlies.”
We had heard stories that humans were not the only traffic occupying the passage through Mt Wachaha. That occasionally one would have to reverse in high speed when growls and grunts started emanating from the other end.
I straightened up. Looked at CJ, through his thick brimmed glasses. Through his bristling anticipation.
Then I nodded.
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