Bronx (Western Smokejumpers #1) - Tess Oliver Page 0,2

Jensen twins, mostly because he always thought the earth and stars circled around Kenzie Jensen. Every guy in town had a hard-on when it came to Kenzie Jensen. She knew it and thrived on that knowledge. I, myself, preferred her sister Sutton. She was just as pretty but far more down to earth. Unfortunately, much like my brother's prophecy, neither of them had made it to the age of twenty. Their deaths nearly rocked the small town off its already crumbling foundation.

I handed my canteen to King. "Here drink this. You must be dehydrated because you asked me about the Jensen twins . . . again. You know whenever you start dredging up shit about our childhood, it means you need water."

"Yeah, whatever." He snatched the canteen from my hand.

"See, the grumpiness is a sign too." I glanced over as he dropped his head far back and guzzled the water. Some of it trickled past his mouth, leaving a clean streak of pink in his ash covered face.

"Didn't mean for you to drink all of it."

He sighed loudly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Crap." He stopped, leaned over as far as he could with the heavy pack and spit out the dirt he'd just pushed into his mouth.

I took back my canteen and shot back the few dribbles he'd left behind.

"The truck is delayed. Jane just texted. They won't be at the meet-up site for another hour," Mixx called from up ahead. We relied on satellite phones when we were out in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes they worked and sometimes they didn't. Things never felt too stable when we were cut off from the base camp, but you carried on and hoped that Mother Nature was looking after you.

"Fucking hell," Angus groaned. He had given up on the tunes, which meant the heat, the smoke and the arduous trek had finally zapped him of his enthusiasm for music. "Hey, Mixx, let's stop at the next shade spot. I need to adjust some shit in my pack. Something's stabbing me right between the shoulder blades."

Mixx had been given the reins for the trip back to the pickup spot. We took turns being in charge of communication with home base. The task usually fell to the person with the most unspent energy, and that was almost always Mixx. Deke Hutton had earned the nickname Mixx because of the incredible trail mix he always carried in his pack. It was his mom's homemade recipe complete with all the secrets a homemade recipe maintained. His mom, Atalia, was bubbly, energetic and an amazing cook. She'd immigrated from Jamaica and fell in love with Frank Hutton when they both tried to buy the same refrigerator at a yard sale. In the end, Frank let Atalia take the thing home on the condition that she give him her phone number. It was a story she told us at every end of season barbecue, where she did most of the cooking. Mixx had his dad's dark copper hair and his mom's dark flawless skin. The women were nuts about him, only he was too flaky to settle on one. He had a different girl every month, and every time she was 'the one' until she became 'not the one', something that was inevitable for Mixx.

"All right," Mixx called back to us. "We'll stop at the first spot of shade. If we can find one," he added wryly.

2

We traveled another mile, all of us too worn out to share much conversation. Shade was at a minimum on this side of the mountain, but we finally turned a curve that was cool and protected from the sun's harsh rays by a steep, sheer side of rock.

"Check for rattlers before you set your sorry asses down on any of those boulders," Mixx reminded.

"Sure thing, ma," King said, adding in a weak salute.

"All right, someone give King some water," Mixx suggested. "He's getting the grumpies."

"Fuck off, Mixx. I'm not grumpy. Just how many times have we been up in these snake infested hills? We know there are damn rattlers up here. We probably know that better than anyone else on the whole fucking planet, including the snakes themselves."

Angus stomped over and shoved his canteen toward King. "Mixx is right. You're grumpy."

"You can fuck off too," King grumbled as he begrudgingly took hold of the canteen and gulped down the water.

I found my perch, a fallen log, snake and red ant free from my vantage point.