Out on the Ranch

"We are going to track whatever it was that Nacho pretended to hit tomorrow morning," Billy said as he handed back the shot glass, "we should get going, Claire."

"Try to get some sleep," Nacho said as the young couple walked out of the house, "I said try." All four shared a knowing laugh as the door was opened, "ya veremos que nos encontramos manana, Billy boy!"

"We'll see," Billy replied, "probably shot a big, scary possum or an even scarier bunny."

"Easter is still a while away," Claire added as their laughter continued, slowly fading into the dead of night as the couples went their own ways.

...

The following morning's stillness was broken by a loud knock on their front door. As Billy pried his eyes open, the previous night's events rushed into his brain. There was a small jolt of panic and excitement as he threw the covers from about his body and grabbed in the darkness for his pants. Claire stirred in the bed, she reached out for the vacant spot his body had left; a small frown crossed her face as her arm met the emptiness that filled the spot. Billy could spend the rest of his days looking at this woman, but the thundering sounds at the front door broke him from that fantasy. Quietly, he moved toward the door, his already quiet footsteps were even more silent as he walked barefooted to answer.

"Mr. Bonney?" The man stood a bit taller than Billy, his neatly pressed black suit allowed him to blend into the darkness of the early hours. The man held a badge up to Billy's face, the gold-plated decoration threatened to break the veil that was inundating both. Before Billy could make out the agency, the man withdrew the badge and returned it to the hidden pocket under his coat. "Are you Mr. Bonney, sir?"

"Yes," Billy replied, "may I ask what this is about?"

"Mr. Bonney," the man offered a smile as he stretched out his hand, "I am Special Agent Ferguson, do you have a minute to talk?"

"Well that really depends on what time it is," Billy replied.

"You have somewhere to be this morning, Mr. Bonney?"

"As a matter of fact I do," Billy replied, the man was trying his best to be intimidating, without appearing threatening. "I do have a ranch to run, Agent Ferguson, along with a buttload of chores that need to be completed to make sure that the ranch is in full operation. So if that is all you need I'll be going back to bed."

"Mr. Bonney," Ferguson reached out for the door to block Billy from completely closing it, "its nothing more than a friendly chat."

"I don't feel like being friendly at this time of the day," Billy was beginning to get irritated, "you are more than welcome to come back a little past noon, I may feel a bit friendlier then."

"Should I be coming back with a warrant?" Ferguson was trying his best to rattle Billy, but the trap was too easy to spot. The smile was a dead giveaway to his real intentions.

"Sure," Billy replied as he closed the door, "that ought to make for some friendly conversation."

Billy returned to his bed and for the first time saw the time displayed in the nightstand clock, it was just past two in the morning. Billy removed his pants and carefully rejoined Claire in the bed, the agent's face a curiosity that was slowly fading away from his recollection. As Billy closed his eyes, his brain desperately tried to hang on to the agent's face but failed miserably. When the alarm cried out a few hours later, Billy had almost forgotten about the agent's visit until Claire spoke.

"Who was knocking on the door so early in the morning?"

"Wait, that actually happened? I thought it had been some dream." Billy's look of confusion concerned Claire, he had never lapsed in his memory like that before, quickly she mentally ran through the long list of possible medical causes and worse case scenarios trying to find the possible reason. "Stop, Claire."

"Stop what?" She had practiced the innocent look for many years, but her overuse of it had certainly made her brother become almost immune to it.

"Trying to find some disease or something," Billy replied while tossing a pillow at her, "I was just half asleep when I got up to answer the door."

"Well, who was it?" Claire picked up the pillow and tossed it back as Billy was walking toward the bathroom, he paused long enough to give Claire reason to plunge into the sea of blankets in search of protection.

"I don't remember," Billy replied, "some police officer, I think..."

"Police officer?" There was a panic in her voice, "what did he want?"

"Claire I don't remember," Billy replied, "I told you, its all hazy. I must have been really asleep." He picked up the pillow and tossed it at Claire, "I have to get ready, we have to go find out what Nacho missed last night."

"Don't you mean 'what he hit'?"

"I know what I said," Billy laughed, "would you make some coffee, please."

After having a quiet cup of coffee and filling his thermos with the black mana of the gods, Billy went to join the two other men in their upcoming search. That feeling of anticipation was again filling his gut, Billy felt like a child going on an adventure as he followed the trail toward the designated meeting place. As he made his way enjoying the last few minutes of quiet and cooling weather, he saw that Nacho was already waiting there.

"A buena hora que se te dio la gana de salir, Billy boy," Nacho shouted as a greeting.

"What are you talking about," Billy griped, "I am still a few minutes early. Besides, I don't see Jenkins around, is he here already?"

"Esta en camino," Nacho replied as he pointed at the large cloud of dust that Jenkins' truck was lifting, "tiene esperanzas."

"You sure are hopeful, Jenkins," Billy greeted the man, "you really think he hit something?

"Better ready than sorry," Jenkins replied, "that's what my Pa used to say."

...

"I told you," Billy was laughing as the three men walked toward Billy's porch. Jenkins had a look of irritation that seemed to be permanently carved into his face. Nacho and Billy both laughed louder at that, "but at least you were very prepared, Jenkins."

"Never met a man that carried an extra set of clothes," Nacho was trying to contain his laughter as he spoke, "and so much tomato juice!" Billy and Nacho erupted in laughter as Jenkins steamed in anger, his face was becoming more and more red as the two men laughed.

"What is so funny out here?" Claire shouted as she opened the door, the invisible wall of stench that received her quickly made her regret her decision-making process. Behind her, Elena just managed a look at Claire's reaction to know that she should not go outside. "What is the hell is that smell?!"

"Claire," the two men exploded in laughter as Billy tried to explain, "did you know... did... did you know that..." he was having difficulties, "did you know that a..." laughter made it impossible to understand, "can still spray you when its dead?"

More laughter as Nacho tried to fill in the gaps. "I did hit something last night," Nacho was having more success in holding back the laughter as he spoke, "when we managed to track down the trail of blood we found this little bundle of fur collapsed at the root of a tree. Jenkins here rushed over to it, the blood had pooled and made a perfect seal around the carcass."

"We couldn't tell what it was..." Billy again lost control of his vocal cords as the laughter took over once again.

"Jenkins here ran out of his truck toward the little red and brown creature," it was at this point that even Nacho lost all control and fell onto the floor in a wave of laughter. Billy soon joined him.

"A fucking skunk." Claire had almost forgotten that the stinky man was standing there, fuming and seething in anger as the two men continued to laugh, "it was a fucking skunk."

"As soon as Jenkins picked it up..." Billy tried to explain, "it pissed and sprayed all over Jenkins' face!"

"Oh it blinded me, it blinded me!" Nacho ran in mockery while rubbing his eyes, this was clearly an imitation of Jenkins' actions.

"Damn alien thing, done took my eyes," Billy joined in as the laughter continued. "Get it, it ain't dead!"

"Mr. Jenkins," Claire was trying her best not to join the two men in laughter, "are you alright?"

"Thank you, Ms. Bonney," Jenkins replied, "but I think I just need a good shower and a stiff drink to forget about this morning."

"He had a change of clothes and some tomato juice," Billy continued laughing, "I'm sorry, Jenkins, but if it had been me that was pissed on by a dead skunk, I know you would be laughing as much as we are right now."

"Yeah, yeah," Jenkins dismissed the halfhearted apology, "I'll be heading out now, seems like there isn't much more that can be done today."

"Just the same," Claire replied, "as long as you are ok, skunk spray is very dangerous, Mr. Jenkins. Be careful in the future." She turned to Billy, "and you, William Bonney, remember that you have a visitor coming to see you in a few."

"Who you got coming over, boy?" Jenkins was glad for the change in conversation.

"Some agent stopped by early this morning," Billy replied, "told him to stop by later on if he was looking for a chat."

"Agent?" Jenkins asked, "as in federal agent?"

"Well I don't think it was a talent agent," Nacho replied, "Billy boy ain't that pretty."

"Hey..." Billy protested briefly before replying, "but yes, a federal agent. I don't quite remember what agency he is from, though."

"Was he wearing a black suit?" Jenkins was clearly very interested in the turn of events.

"I think so," Billy replied, "but like I said, I don't remember too well about it, I was still half asleep when he knocked on the door."

"Really loud," Claire added, "it woke me up as well."

"Oh my god," Jenkins replied, "Men in black."

"The movie?"

"No," Jenkins replied, "they are real. I've read tons of stuff on them, they always wear dark suits, always approach their interviewees in the middle of the night, they have above human strength." He paused for a moment and met everyone's eyes, "and they make it almost impossible to recall any details of their facial features, voice, and even what agency they represent. I told you there was something going on here!"

"Ese hombre esta loco" Elena muttered from behind the door.

"Jenkins," Billy replied, "it was very early in the morning, that is it. There is nothing supernatural going on, nothing secretive."

"Then how else can you explain why so many of our animals are dying?" Jenkins asked in a panic.

"Well," Claire interrupted, "there is still a few hours before the lab results come back, so we will definitely have an answer one way or another before tonight."

...

The two couples were enjoying a relaxing lunch, the soft wind carried the smells of the coming seasonal changes. For the first time in what seemed to be a long time, the animals were behaving as normal as they had always been; Billy wondered how long it had been since the animals so gracefully ate and mingled in the lands. The loud ring that tore through the stillness of the early afternoon shot from inside the house, Claire excused herself while she went to answer the call. Nacho looked at Billy, both men held their tongues while trying to listen through the door at the conversation. This had been the call that they had been waiting for, the answer to the riddle that had taken over their existence over the past few weeks. Jenkins' paranoia would either be substantiated or it would be proven false once and for all. Claire opened the door as the two men resumed a conversation that was not taking place; Elena laughed at their clumsy cover.

"Well?" Nacho impatiently asked, "was that the lab with the results?"

"It was," Claire replied while picking up the glass of tea she had been drinking before, her nonchalant attitude and carefree movements did not reveal any information to the men. "It's a good year, don't you think, Elena?"

"Si," the woman answered while trying to hold back her laughter.

"Claire?" Billy asked.

"William." She replied.

"What. Did. The. Lab. Say." Billy spoke through his teeth, his own impatience was showing.

"I think we should wait for Jenkins to get here," she was enjoying this small torture that was afflicting the men, they were like children waiting for permission to go outside and play.

"Why would we wanna do that?" Nacho asked, "just tell us what it is!"

"Haemophilus Somnus," she replied while sipping her tea.

"I barely speak Spanish, Claire," Billy whined, "what makes you think I would speak whatever it is that you are speaking right now?"

"It's the name of a type of bacteria," she continued, "its also known as 'shipping fever' by the old timers. You might know it by that name."

"That's what killing the cattle?" Both men asked at the same time.

"Yup."

"Then, why were you being so secretive about it?"

"Because," she continued, "the look on your faces was priceless." The two women laughed while the men blushed in anger.

"So, what do we need to do?" Billy asked.

"I kinda had a suspicion that this might have been it," Claire continued, "I have been giving the animals the necessary medications for the past few days. It was a simple course of antibiotics and the problem was taken care of, these bacteria affect calves far faster than full grown animals. There really are no signs or symptoms to adequately diagnose it without a full blood panel."

"How did you know which animal to test?" Nacho asked.

"It didn't matter which animal," she replied, "that particular strand of bacteria is highly contagious. I just needed two samples from two different animals to confirm the diagnosis, so I used one of ours and one from your ranch. Both strands are the same, so more than likely the original infection came from a sole source."

"I take it you already have an idea what that source might be?"

"As a matter of fact I do," Claire replied, "which is why we need to go speak with Ben Stinger."

"Why is that?" Billy asked while unconsciously rubbing his backside. His muscles remembered the feel of rock salt as it pierced the delicate skin even so many years after.

"Because this bacteria travels fastest through water," Claire continued, "all of us share our water source, and none of the ranchers north of Stinger's Ranch are having cattle deaths. Which means that the contamination is coming from his lands."

"That damned watering hole," Billy cursed, "its still haunting me." The rest of them laughed at his remark while he continued rubbing his backside. "Sucks though," Billy continued, "was kinda hoping to meet a man in black."

"Well," Claire replied, "looks like you might still get your chance to," she pointed at the tall dust cloud that was heading their way and the lone black SUV that was giving birth to it.

"Shit," Billy said, "just when things were starting to look good."

All four remained seated as the out of place vehicle came to a halt, the cloud of dust continued to linger long after the man in the driver's seat had killed the engine. They could see that he was talking to someone on the cellphone that was almost glued to the side of his face, the conversation did not appear to be a pleasant one from his hostile body language. Agent Ferguson closed the door in a not-too-gentle manner, Billy wondered if he was still upset at their earlier conversation.

"Mr. Bonney," Ferguson remarked in place of a greeting, "I see you have visitors. I hope they aren't here on my behalf?"

"No sir," Billy answered, "just friends having a quiet drink. Care for a glass of tea or water?"

"Una cerveza, mejor," added Nacho.

"Wish I could," Ferguson replied, "but I am on duty. I will take some tea if you don't mind. Not used to this type of weather."

"Sure thing, please have a seat, make yourself comfortable." Billy gestured for the man to join them, "keep in mind that there is a man coming over that is very anxious to meet you, Agent Ferguson."

"Lawyer?" Ferguson took a long drink from the cool glass that Claire had handed him, he raised his eyebrow as he asked his single worded question.

"You'll wish it was," Claire replied, "I'm afraid that its nothing more than a very curious individual."

"Conspiracy nut?" Ferguson asked.

"Nuttier than squirrel shit," Billy replied as all of them laughed. "So tell me, what was so urgent that you needed to talk about in the middle of the night?"

"What agency do you work for?" Claire interrupted.

"Well," Ferguson said, "I work for the DEA. We were contacted by the Forest Rangers in the area about some suspicious activities that they had been witnessing over the past few months."

"Is it about cattle deaths?" Billy asked.

"What?" Ferguson looked at him in confusion, "no, I am afraid not. This case deals more with people, not cattle. How well do you know your neighbor, Mr. Benjamin Stinger?"

"I know him well enough," Billy replied, "known him all my life as a matter of fact."

"We used to swim in his watering hole growing up," Claire added, "is he ok?"

"No, I'm afraid he is not." Ferguson reached into his leather bag and produced a small manila folder. "See, the park rangers found a highly decomposed body in this area a few months back," he opened the large envelope and withdrew a single picture, "as you can see from the state of the body itself it would be nearly impossible to identify just by a glance. Coroners estimate he had been death for at least three months, animals and the humidity of the place have sped up the decaying process significantly."

"Oh my god," Claire moved her hand toward her mouth, "but we saw Stinger not two weeks ago! It couldn't possibly be him!"

"You would be correct," Ferguson produced a second photograph, this one showed Ben Stinger talking with the park rangers, "this picture was taken a few days ago. Stinger had a contract with the US government," he produced a third picture, this one was part of a large map. Their lands were clearly shown, "part of his lands actually belonged to Uncle Sam."

"Well if it wasn't Old Ben," Billy replied, "then who was it?"

"Part of the agreement that Mr. Stinger had with the US government was to maintain a certain storage depot in the land." Another picture came out of the folder, this one looked like the entrance to a bunker, "if it hadn't been for the dead body, no one would have known of the existence of this bunker outside of Mr. Stinger."

"Why is there a bunker there?" Billy looked at the picture of the map trying to find the location based on the recognizable features in the picture of the bunker's door.

"That, Mr. Bonney, was a mystery to the people that found the bunker as well," Ferguson produced the last picture from the folder, "so they did what any reasonable person would do in that situation." The last picture showed the inside of the bunker, its cement walls were solidly built. There was no light except for the natural light that was peering into the abysm within the doorway, the main tunnel stretched farther than the light could reveal.

"Were they storing chemicals or things like that?" Billy asked.

"No," Ferguson laughed, "you have been listening to your conspiracy theory friend too long. It was a saferoom build during the cold war in the event of a nuclear strike. There are many of them scattered throughout the United States that are ready to house important people in the event of an attack. This one had been put out of commission a few years back."

"I don't understand," Claire said, "what does this have to do with Old Ben?"

"We believe that these are remains from a lost hiker," Ferguson replied, "these lands are often used by beginners to try to test themselves. There are no obvious signs of trauma on the remains."

"Since when do federal agents investigate dead hikers?" Nacho asked.