Chapter Fourteen #2
Gabriel knew that steps were being missed in this search.
Daniel had talked about how joyful Whiskey got after he located her target.
She’d get not one but two cheesy hot dogs as her reward.
Gabriel hadn’t had cheesy hot dogs or any hot dog for that matter in his fridge.
So he’d grabbed a couple pieces of leftover bacon and hoped they’d be received with the same enthusiasm.
The celebration of joyfully jumping around and praising Whiskey seemed wholly out of place. And surely, if it had been the right thing to do, Reaper would be the one to start up the whooping and bacon feeding.
Reaper and Whiskey alike had taken this down to a very low-key level.
Gabriel thought back to when he saw Reaper’s posture shift, and he wondered what he had seen or heard from Whiskey that told him they were close to bingo. He’d ask when they were driving home.
As Reaper slipped away, Amber remained blank, and Cory looked as if he wondered whether he would need to protect his sister from that stranger-man.
Gabriel had practice with his nephews and had a few tactics up his sleeve.
“You know what time it is?” Gabriel asked as he reached for his backpack. “Whiskey’s breakfast time.”
Opening the pack lid, he reached in and took out his mess kit and Whiskey’s collapsible bowl.
The mess kit was nice and neat; one side of the kit consisted of a bowl-shaped plate, the other of a fry pan.
The handle twisted over the bowl to hold the sides together like a clamshell.
Loosening the nut and pulling apart the different pieces, Gabriel picked up the bright orange mug that sat in the center, and he filled it with water before filling Whiskey’s bowl from his camel water bag.
Next, Gabriel filled the plate with kibble for Whiskey, unwrapped two chocolate meal-replacement bars, and set them in the skillet with the cup of water.
The boy’s eyes were hard on the chocolate bars and water.
Still, Gabriel went slow. If they took off running, especially if they ran in opposite directions, that would be pretty shitty. He didn’t want to have to snatch running children off their feet and traumatize them.
“Whiskey, you’re such a good girl. I have your breakfast ready.” He only reached the length of his arm, moving the water bowl and then the kibble dish closer to Whiskey. And without any further words, Gabriel used the skillet handle to move the food and water toward the kids.
They could take it or leave it.
They left it.
So did Whiskey.
Gabriel was surprised Whiskey didn’t snarf down her kibble. She was definitely a dog with a hearty food drive.
If Reaper were there, he would know the exact command and Whiskey would comply immediately. But Gabriel didn’t have a list of Whiskey’s commands. Shoot, he hadn’t even known he was going to be Whiskey’s dad two days ago.
Gabriel put it on his mental to-do list to get up with Reaper and get a tutorial on how to communicate with Whiskey.
Dealing with these kids and causing as little harm as possible while providing as much comfort as they’d allow was a bit of a mind game. Gabriel wished his mind wasn’t quite so tired or that he had some better ideas, but right now the idea of a fire sounded good.
Gabriel started by clearing an area for a fire, looking up to make sure it wouldn’t pose a danger if embers floated off with the smoke. Sweet Gum didn’t have a fire warning right now, but things were dry, which made collecting fuel that much easier.
Gabriel learned a technique while out running his races when stops were few and far between, and a fire was a survival tool only — someone fell in icy water and was getting hypothermic.
Yeah, there were times when you just needed heat, and you needed it quick.
This was a good time to put those quick fire strategies to use.
Gathering the dried pieces from the trees around him, Gabriel made a platform and began building his teepee from kindling and tinder.
The whole time, in the same calming voice he used to read bedtime stories to his nephews, Gabriel narrated what he was doing so the kids could get used to the sound of his voice.
Gabriel knew from his time out in the woods training and solo hiking that being away from people, even for a short time, a sudden voice would be startling.
Once the fire was going, Gabriel got busy rifling through his backpack, not that he had anything he needed in there, but he wanted to see what the kids would do if they weren’t being watched.
Cory pushed the skillet forward and edged closer and closer to the fire.
Amber and Whiskey edged forward, too.
Gabriel filled the center pan from his mess kit with water, topped it with the lid, and stuck it by the fire to warm.
Then he pulled a protein bar from his pocket and began to eat while looking up at the treetops and making little noises—yum and mmm—to show the food was delicious.
It wasn’t. It was barely edible.
Really what Gabriel wanted was for the kids to drink the water.