As the campfire alters its state, from curlicues of red-glowing coals to licks of blue and gold, Daphne alters hers from outgoing to in-turning. She becomes very quiet, and she begins to sense the pathways of her nerves, the connections of her muscles, bones, ligaments, tendons, the coordination of her immune system. She visualizes the patterns of her own ankles and feet.

Gail isn’t touching her. But she’s reaching with her heart toward Daphne and at the same time trying to pull Reese’s spirit along with her. Reese jolts slightly, as if something struck her at the base of her neck. All three of them become very still and silent. For about four minutes, the only movement is the dance of the fire, and the only sounds are the cracks of oxidizing wood.

Daphne closes their trance when she stirs the fire with a crooked stick. “I think you got it, Reese,” she says. “Can you keep it up?”

Reese nods as she examines her ankle. Gail leans closer to see. “It feels much better,” Reese murmurs as she circles the flesh with her hands. “And the swelling seems already less. I’m sure I’ll be able to hike tomorrow.”

They’re all tired enough to sleep well. Gail is the only one who wakes because of the faint gunshot at 3 a.m. She wonders what roused her, as she falls back to sleep.

Reese’s ankle is only slightly swollen in the morning. She says it really doesn’t hurt. They bandage it for support, feed her aspirin, and break camp. They hadn’t intended to hike back out for another four days, so their packs are heavier than they’d planned; Gail and Daphne take on extra weight to lighten Reese’s.

Their trail out takes them past their original campsite. They pause in disbelief. Apparently the hunters were disappointed to find the camp abandoned. The area has been trashed. There’s broken glass, paper and foil litter, big gashes in nearby trees. Even gentle Gail is stirred to hatred.

As they hike, they discuss alternative plans. Reese’s ankle is doing well, but backpacking is out for this vacation. By the time they get to Reese’s car, they’ve decided to head for the coast. Daphne’s family frequents the area, and she knows where they can get a good room that they can afford.

Gail takes the wheel. Daphne hates driving and Reese should rest her ankle. They decide to have a real meal before they leave the area. They park at the local restaurant/saloon. There’s a banner hanging off its porch: EARTH FIRST – THEN WE’LL LOG THE OTHER PLANETS. They enter the dimly lit room anyway. They find a table, order chili and fries, and then take turns using the bathroom. They each appreciate the plumbing.

Gail is the last to use the bathroom, and she’s coming back to their table when a man walks into the place excited with news. Daphne and Reese stop their own conversation to listen to the guy report to the bartender/owner. He says the rescue squad had to go in this afternoon and fetch two hunters. There had been four in the party, two were injured last night, and the other two came out to get help. Reese and Daphne goggle at each other as Gail sits.

The man says one of the hunters turned his ankle while peeing in a rock pile last night. He fell exposed and lacerated his penis, but it was his ankle that required the squad. The other hunter actually shot himself in the foot. Apparently, he was trying to shoot a snake with a handgun. No one knows why he wouldn’t leave the snake alone, if there really was a snake, but he’d been drinking, so maybe reason is irrelevant. He may have been hit by his own ricochet, but the paramedics thought the wound looked too close for that; they hypothesized that he tripped on the same rocks as his buddy, and shot himself while trying to regain his balance. They had to use the county helicopter to get the injured men out of there.

Incidentally, the man reports, the two who went for help were such morons that they took a short cut through an area of thriving poison oak. They didn’t realize it yet, but they’d be erupting in an agonizing rash in three more days. “I know. I know. Our local economy depends on the hunters,” the man acknowledges to the bartender. “But these guys were obvious idiots. I gotta believe they deserved it.”

Daphne grins at Reese and Gail. She makes a fist with her thumb up. “I feel like a goddess,” she says. Reese and Gail return the gesture with happy faces, as the waitress arrives with their hot food.