Firewatch Ch 17

The policewoman approaches. “What’s going on? Why are we being so quiet?”

It’s hard to get a good look at her in the dark; she’s a brunette, average height. Her jacket and slacks hide her physique. She seems ordinary.

“Young people doing young people things,” Wilde says with a jerk of her head toward the campsite.

“I see. You two have names?”

“Special Agent Wilde. This is Special Agent Flores. Are you Chief Johnson? Ava Johnson, Barney Police?”

“That’s right.” Encountering two FBI agents in the dark woods doesn’t seem to faze this woman. Flores keeps her guard up.

Wilde doesn’t sugarcoat it. “Where have you been? We’ve been trying to get in touch with you for 24 hours.”

The chief shrugs. “Firewatch.”

“Excuse me?” Flores replies.

“We have a Forestry Department tower, part of the network in the whole valley. It crosses three counties.” The chief points. “It has to be manned. Our Forest Service watcher spot’s been vacant on and off for a while. I had to cover.”

“It’s been wet,” Flores says waspishly.

“Ma’am, I don’t know where you’re from, but we take this seriously.”

Flores deflates.

Wilde looks thoughtful. “No phone up there?”

Chief Johnson brushes pine needles from her jacket. “No signal, but we have a radio. Dispatch can reach me if there’s an emergency.”

“Your station looks like nobody’s been there in weeks.”

“There’s mold.” The chief smiles and laughs ruefully. “Sorry, guys. I don’t know what you want from me. It’s Barney. What do you need?”

“Information about missing people. You have a lot of them around here,” Wilde says.

“OK, I’ll help.”

“Chief, we didn’t see your vehicle in the parking lot,” Flores cuts in before Wilde can go on. “Where are you parked?”

“I was dropped off.” The Chief looks from Wilde to Flores. “Can you take me into town?”

Wilde puts her hand on Flores’s shoulder. “Of course. Give us one second.”

“Sure.”

Wilde guides Flores away. “What do you think?”

“I think this is weird. And I know how this sounds, but she’s a little bit cool and self-possessed for a small town cop ambushed by the FBI,” Flores murmurs.

“Maybe she used to be a fed. We don’t know her story, but I’m not sure this adds up. Firewatch vacancies and missing people—what if there’s overlap? And if something’s going on in these woods, someone who spends all their time out here might know something. I want to check out the tower.”

“She needs a ride. And I’m a little scared to leave her alone, Wilde. What if we can’t find her again?”

“Take her, take the car. See what kind of documentation she has about these missing people, and see if she’s ever heard of Aria Durano.”

“What about you?”

“I’m gonna visit this tower.”

“Alone? At night? Is that a good idea?”

“Come on, Flores. My name isn’t Special Agent Careful.” Wilde holds up the car keys.

[ Gang, a reader was wondering if there was any appetite for more futa x male content, not in this story obviously, but beyond. There's already a bit of that in Himbo Hurricane, but that's admittedly not much. Do we need more? Weigh in if you have thoughts and win an Agent Wilde or Agent Flores card. #democracy #lameincentives ]