For the Love of Gav

Friday

 "You have to have dark in order to show light, just like in life."

- Bob Ross

Friday

It was a day that would change Nina's life forever. That's Nina, there. See her? She's the one in the truck, plume of dust trailing behind like a roadrunner's tail. The funny thing about days that change your life is you almost never know you're in one until later. Nina certainly didn't. If you had told her that this day would draw an indelible line in her life, separating it evermore into "before" and "after", she might have ventured to guess that this freelance job assignment would turn into steady, well-paid work. Or, she might guess loftily, she could discover something that had never been seen before. Failing those, she might wonder if she would run afoul of a particularly ill-mannered rattlesnake, or get lost in the desert hills. One thing is for certain: she would sooner guess that the earth itself would open up and swallow her with a shining silver tongue than what would actually come to pass.

But for now, that's just our little secret. Nina doesn't even know that today is important. She's prepared for it, sure, but she has no idea the impact that will come from this drive, this day. Right now, she is completely engrossed in the moment, singing along with Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, thinking about the task ahead.

Nina had been hired to do a geological survey on a rural area of Colfax County, New Mexico. It was one of those special and becoming rarer areas that was mostly untouched and had been for centuries. It was the ancestral land of the Jicarilla Apache, but they had been driven west long ago. People in the region recognized its pristine beauty and as far back as the early 1900s, there had been a movement to make the area a national park, though it never quite gathered enough steam. In the twenties the region suffered an outbreak of hantavirus after a year of heavy rain. The low human population of the area kept the virus largely contained to rodents, but also did its part to keep people away, as did the effects of the dust bowl in the coming decade.

In the late forties, the area hosted what became known as the Dale Mountain aliens. A local rancher described flying saucers regularly frequenting the area for months, culminating in a dramatic crash. He was certain that the wreckage was out there to be found, and others agreed. The area became a tourist destination—at least for a few short months before it was decided the Dale Mountain aliens were almost certainly a hoax. Shadows of the story remain, even now, with infrequent billboards with little green men directing you to diners and roadside stands.

Nina was past the roads now. At least the paved ones. She finally reached her destination, pulling into a wide flat area without a fence. This served both as parking lot and trail head for those few who knew about this place. Despite its untouched beauty and insta-worthy vistas, the lack of an easy way in and out kept this area under the radar. Nina pulled the emergency brake on her old beater of a truck and took stock of her supplies. She had plenty of water and a hat to protect her from the sun. In her field pack were her tools, sample jars, pencil, notebook, a few apples, camera and GPS. That should be everything. On second thought... Nina grabbed two Nature Valley granola bars out of the glove box. She always kept them around because they were immune to melting. Into the pack they went.

There was only one other vehicle in the lot and Nina could see its owner at the far end of the space tacking something on to a bulletin board. Nina shouldered her pack and walked toward him, boots crunching in the gravelly rock. He heard her approaching and turned to greet her.

"Morning." He bobbed his chin up, smiling lightly. He was tall and thin, gaunt even, with fine jet black hair that tumbled and flowed from under his hat to his shoulders. He looked at home in the outdoors, with clothes that were well worn but not shabby, and had an easy comfort in his surroundings.