Rich aromas fill the camper — sizzling bacon, scrambled eggs (with probably too much butter), the toasting of sourdough bread.
Noah Erickson shovels a portion of eggs into two bowls. “There you go, my friends.”
Two dogs, an Australian Shepherd and his miniature counterpart, saunter over for their time-honored tradition of breakfast-for-dinner.
“Good boy, Maurice.” Noah’s calming voice soothes. “You too, Clara. Eat up.”
For almost two weeks now, Noah had been free camping here in the back country of Back of Beyond National Park. Everything was so peaceful, probably because, to his knowledge, not many folk even knew it existed.
His memories drift to the Ranger who’d brought it to his attention. She wore the typical park ranger affair: deep sage slacks, a tan shirt, and the iconic campaign hat. As Maurice and Clara chow on fluffy eggs, a detail returns to Noah — the patch on her uniform. It looked different from the usual arrowhead logo. Instead it—
Knock, knock, knock. Maurice and Clara perk and look to the camper’s door.
After a tense moment, Noah breaks the silence. “I guess we have company.” He goes to the door and opens it. To his coincidental shock, there she stands: the Ranger from his memories. “Hello?”
“Good, I was hoping to find you here. It’s not ideal, but you’re all we’ve got. How ‘bout it?” She extends a badge with the same iconography as her strange patch. The words on it read: Bureau of Preternatural Rangers. “Up for being deputized?”