Free Rise and Walk by Gregory Solis Page B

the Interior was on his own.
    The large patrol vehicle turned left off the mining road and pulled in front of a small shack. Watkins sighed as he looked at the well built building. It was a mining shack that once belonged to one of the families from town. He couldn’t remember their name but they were the last to still hold an official mining claim on the land. The family didn’t own the land but they had the rights to any ore they found in the area. In the eighties an heir to the claim had come and dug out large parts of the surrounding hills in search of riches. It was the man’s right to do so. The careless mining had left ugly scars in the scenery that broke the good Ranger’s heart. The man never found gold in his search. Professor Galloway from the Whisper campus discovered the exposed areas of earth on a week long hike and had been using the area as a teaching resource for the past five years. The Professor was a good man and he sure knew his geology. Watkins was gladdened that some good had come from the unsightly greed-inspired excavations in his mountain.
    Watkins picked up his hand microphone and clicked the send button.
    “City dispatch, this is Ranger Watkins, Come in?”
    The radio was set to the Whisper police frequency. They were the only officials who could receive a signal this high in the mountain, through signal repeaters.
    “Dispatch. Five by five, Jess. Have you found them?” The radio squawked. It was Annie, the sweet dispatcher from town.
    “I’m at the shack near the mouth to the valley, nothing to report yet. Radio gets bad from here out so I wanted to let you know.”
    “Okay Jess, how long should we expect?”
    “Well, lets say an hour to get there and maybe 20 minutes to shoot the breeze with the Professor and see what’s up, then an hour back to radio range. I’d say if you don’t hear from me in a few hours, send back up,” Watkins said while adjusting himself in his well worn seat.
    “Ten-Four, we appreciate your help on this one. We got a few worried parents who would like to know where their kids are.”
    “No problem, it’s my job.” He thought a moment and wiped at his brow. “If you do have to send someone, make sure they are in a vehicle with some clearance. A patrol car would never make it on these roads.”
    “Affirmative, Jess, good luck,” said Annie over the low fidelity speaker.
    Ranger Watkins engaged the motor and drove into the forest on a barely perceptible trail.
    “Let’s keep an eye out for some little brats,” he said aloud, amusing himself. Professor Galloway and his charges were due back last night but by morning they had yet to show. Parents called the college who called the police who then called Watkins. They most likely had trouble with their vehicle and had to stay out an extra night without supplies. The Professor was no tenderfoot; he knew the land and would keep the students sheltered and safe. As a precaution Watkins brought with him ten gallons of gas, a five gallon bottle of spring water from the Ranger station and box of Meals Ready to Eat, provided by his employer. Kids get a kick out of eating MREs , he thought. He had boxes of the self contained meals issued to his office for disaster relief, compliments of the US government. They tasted like crap if you ate them too often, which Watkins did, but the kids sure did think they were neat.
    The drive was long. Watkins knew where the Professor would set up camp. A large dynamited area within the valley that showed the stratifications of rock that the Professor was so fond of. “It is like looking back through the corridors of time”, he would say. Watkins slowed the vehicle and adjusted his gun belt. He had left his .357 magnum in his desk under lock and key, opting instead to carry a lighter, more compact nine millimeter. His back had been giving him trouble lately and he knew the bumpy drive would be murder, so he decided to make every accommodation that he could. He felt there was no