Chapter 5
Where the Devil’s Tail Ends
No electricity. He should have known that. The cook stoves, heaters, hot water tanks, and lamps were all gas. There was no generator, and his laptop sat dead next to a windup alarm clock that Susan had furnished. It had about eight hours of battery power left, but there was no sense using it up now while he sat, musing, pondering, daydreaming. Trying to come up with a goddamn idea.
So with a yellow legal notepad on his lap and a black gel pen in hand, Bill Koch sat on the flat surface of a boulder, watching the birds fly below him. The view both thrilled, and frightened him, and he was glad now that he hadn’t insisted on bringing his eight-year-old son, Steven. Bill wouldn’t have gotten a moments peace, worrying that Steven might be about to
