Backcountry

Chapter 1

Just breathe.

I kept telling myself this as I sat in the Cheyenne Tribal Police Station. In front of me was the reception desk and I could see from time to time the officer behind the desk sneaking glances. I soon found myself playing with the small crescent moon necklace around my neck. It was given by my mother, who was part of the Cheyenne Tribe before she passed away last year. She always told me that if anything happened to her, that she would have the moon protect me, and I needed that protection more than ever. Soon, a short Native American man with long black hair, wearing jeans, a long-sleeve navy blue police shirt, and a gun belt came toward me.

"Come on back, Nat," he said.

The man I was following was Mathias. He was the chief of police and took his job very seriously, a rule follower, and deeply cared about the people on the Reservation. He leads me toward the back of the station and into his office. It was a small and ordinary police chief office. A crap ton of filing cabinets and a desk overstocked with open cases.

"Now," he said sitting down, "This is the fifth time you have been to my station this week alone. I keep telling you that we will call you when we find him, alright?"

"But the question I have for you Mathias," I said sitting down, "Are you actually looking for him? Because rumor around the station is that you haven't even begun."

"Do you see this stack of case files," he said gesturing to his left, "These are open cases that our department is in the process of getting done. Forgive us if we don't prioritize your father over these cases."

"I bet you would be searching for him if he was Cheyenne," I mumbled.

Mathias leaned back in his chair with a sigh, "Now you know that isn't true."

"Well I do," I said, "Ever since my mom died, my father and I have been blacklisted by the people of this Reservation. When everyone knows damn well we can't leave. What if he is hurt, Mathias. Or worse dead. Could you have that on your conscious if that happened?"

"I would be more concerned if this was a new thing, but it isn't," he said, "We go through this whole song and dance of looking for him. And in three days, he will emerge from whatever drug-filled hole he climbed into."

"He hasn't used since last May," I said crossing my arms.

"That you know of," Mathias said, "Have you tried calling him?"

"Straight to voicemail," I said, "Which is why I am concerned. Because by this time he would at least text."

"Well there is only so much I can do," Mathias said leaning forward, "If he is off the Res, then that is in Walt's territory. And you are going to have to talk to him. How about we give it a few more days and then we will start to discuss options?"

I stared at Mathias for a few moments and then stood up, "Well. I can see that the only way my father will be found is by me looking for him. But, thank you. You have been a big help."

I gave him a sarcastic smile and then walked out of his office. Throwing my black winter jacket back on, I walked out of the building and into the Wyoming winter.

"Nat," Mathias said behind me.

I stopped in front of my red truck before turning to him.

"Look, I know that you are worried about him," he said, "But I can't have you going around asking every junkie on the Res if they have seen him. That isn't safe."