I felt someone poking my shoulder. “Rise, sunshine,” Chura said.

I was groggy. My legs and arms ached as I stretched them. “So, your aunt told me what her name means. Please tell me yours means ’snooze bar,’” I said.

“Well, until mom entered it wrong for my fake ID, it was Charu, which means, ‘beautiful.’”

“Even with the wonder of technology we have in our time, human error creeps in,” Danetta said.

“I believe the source text said ‘Chura,’” Chethra said.

“Not the place I first read it,” Chura said.

“Maybe Chethra’s the one you want right now, Falcon. Her name means, ’sweetened breakfast bread.’”

“This is way too much information right after I woke up,” I said.

They already had talked to the general store manager. Without telling him anything else, they asked the location of the Beers’ street. It was a gravel road, apparently, and one subject to frequent washouts. We might be very glad we had an off-road vehicle.

We quickly gathered the few things we had. When I grabbed the BFG from the nightstand, I tried to tuck it in my usual spot, between my pants and the small of my back. Wearing the overalls, that was not an option. The front pockets were large and deep, so I shoved the BFG in the right pocket, in case I had to draw it. I did not want to shoot anybody.

The ladies headed for the parking lot while I checked us out. Miss Jean, still groggy from what I suspected was a late night of watching her Zenith, communicated in grunts as I turned in the key. Her hair, now unleashed from the towel’s tight hold, was a wiry entanglement of dark brown hair with gray roots. “Y’all enjoy your time here in Jasper,” she said. Until that moment, I never would have imagined that woman saying anything rote.

It took me only a couple minutes to start the Jeep. The motel’s proximity to the north end of town kept us from driving through populated streets and drawing attention. Again we sped down the roads through Boxley Valley, and then turned off the pavement to a road barely wide enough to accommodate oncoming traffic. It started in a field of tall grass, nowhere near the river. Within a minute the trees closed in over us and we were mottled with moving dots of sunlight.

“I believe we’re heading toward the river now,” Chethra said. She tried to hold the map steady as we bounced over the rough surface.

I stopped at a fork in the road. “Where now, Sweet Bread?”

“Stay left, Mr. Falcon,” Chethra said.

“Hey, can I drive some?” Chura asked.

“Sure,” I said.

“Is that a good idea, Falcon?” Danetta asked.

“I don’t see why not. We can’t drive very fast on this road, anyway.”

Chura and I switched places. She tried a few times, with my guidance, but couldn’t get the hang of the clutch and the stickshift and kept killing the engine. I had to hotwire it each time it died.

“Maybe that was a bad idea,” I said. “Why don’t we just leave it in neutral and you can rev the engine a bit. Feel the power of the accelerator.”

She pumped the gas pedal a few times, then held it down for a few seconds. I smiled and dragged my index finger across my throat. “Cut it!” I yelled.

She let off the gas. “That really sweeps! I love to make it roar like that. Thanks, Falcon.”

She and I switched seats again and I got us underway. Soon, we approached what seemed to be a shack. The roof was covered in wood shingles laden with moss. Walls made of wooden planks seemed ready to buckle under a moderate wind. I was relieved to see no Confederate flag hanging out front.

“Is this it?” I asked.

“If our directions are correct, yes.” Chethra said.

A thick, black wire ran from the shack’s roof to a tall wooden pole that was connected to another, and so on. It was that era’s method of delivering power from the main grid. I was surprised that electricity made itself known to such remote reaches.

I saw the river off to the left, but it was hard to get a fix on it.

“The river doesn’t seem very close,” Chura said.

“Obviously it doesn’t usually flood this far out, judging from the age of that house,” Danetta said.

I pulled the Jeep to the side of the road and popped the clutch to kill it. Everyone’s head snapped back.

“It must have been a record rain to make that river swell up and wash that place away,” I said.

“Oh, it was. It’s no wonder they didn’t evacuate. This house probably has been here at least 30 years,” Danetta said. She took a deep breath, then noisily exhaled. “This is it. We’re doing this.”

We all climbed out of the Jeep and straightened up a bit. I grabbed the money case. Without a word, we walked the short distance to the front porch of the shack. We knew we had come to the right place when we saw the front door was adorned with a wooden sign reading, “Beers.”

Danetta walked up the few steps and approached the front door, then turned back to give us a look of nervous anticipation. Something else — a request for permission? — showed on her face. Chethra waved her on. The door rattled as she knocked three times. The next minute felt like an hour.

The door opened to reveal a woman, holding a butcher’s knife and wearing an apron stained dark red. Her dirty blonde hair, streaked with gray, was pulled back into a ponytail. Her smooth skin made it tough for me to guess her age. She looked at Danetta, then around her to the three of us, still standing at the base of the porch steps. “What can I do for you?” she asked. There was no hint of southern accent in her voice.

“Hello. My name is Danetta. We’re looking for the Beers family.”

The woman waved the knife toward the sign on the door. “Looks like you’re here. I’m a little busy right now.” She looked at the case I held. “If you’re selling something, then we’re not interested.”

“No, ummm… Mrs. Beers, I presume? We’re not trying to sell anything,” Danetta said. “In fact, we’re here to make you an offer.”

“I am Mrs. Beers, but my name is Helen. What kind of offer is it? And where are you people from?” she said.

“We’re not from anywhere near here. You are aware of the plans to dam the Buffalo, aren’t you?” Danetta asked.

“Yes, we’ve heard about that. Neil Compton already asked us for our support, and my husband and I each wrote a letter to our congressman. In fact, when you pulled up, I thought you might be Neil, considering you’re driving a Jeep just like his.”

A shiver ran through me, but I tried not to make an outward show of it. Did Chura not look at the name when she read that guest registration card back at the trail? I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. Of course if he found her note, it would make sense that he was the one parked there. I became paranoid that a local back in Jasper might have recognized the vehicle, too. Compton had been active in the area while campaigning to save the river, and residents of tiny towns tended to notice details.

Danetta very smoothly glossed right over it. “We do know of Dr. Compton’s efforts. It is an uphill battle, however, and we’re here to offer you a chance to avoid personal impact.” Either way, dam or not, she was telling the truth.

“We already know that the government will pay to relocate us if they build the dam,” Helen said.

“What they offer you will hardly pay for a new place to live. I’m sure you have a considerable tract of land down here, don’t you?”

“About 40 acres.”

“If your family hopes to stay near this area after the lake forms, then the government’s payout will buy a roof over your head, but not 40 acres of land.”

Helen stepped onto the front porch and invited us to join her. Each of us chose one of the chairs positioned around a large wooden spool turned on end to act as a table. “You may have noticed that I have all my teeth and I speak clear English,” she said. “My husband was a physics professor at the state university. That’s where he met Neil Compton. He went on a few hikes with him and became more enamored of nature than of education. We came from New York City for his job, and before coming here neither of us had been far from our childhood homes. Seeing so much unspoiled land moved him.”

She went on to tell us that she had tried to get hired, too, but southern universities hadn’t yet warmed to the idea of a female mathematics professor. She quickly tired of life as a professor’s spouse. To keep any hope of tenure, they had to try to please everybody in his department. They attended the proper church while espousing evolutionary theory, drank wine or denounced alcohol, depending on the crowd. When her husband suggested they lead simpler lives, she willingly agreed, and he got a job teaching at Jasper High School.

“I just didn’t know it was going to last 10 years,” she said. “After we bought this place, we became pioneers.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, where is your husband now? Teaching?” Danetta asked.

“No, school’s still out for summer here. He went to Jasper to get a few things. He should be back soon.”

Helen led us on a walk to the river. A narrow trail, just wide enough for us to proceed single file, meandered through a stand of large hardwoods and thick undergrowth. At several points, had I not looked straight down at my feet, I would not have known I was on a trail. As we neared the river, the grasses and young trees gave way to briers and bushes, which held detritus from previous periods of high water. I tried to imagine all of that, even the tallest trees, under water. Only fish and divers will reach this if they build that dam.

She gave a talk that sounded memorized, as if she was trying to sway us into Compton’s camp. If only she had known what we had risked, she might have felt embarrassed.

“Helen, I’m not sure you understood who we are. You don’t need to convince us. We are on your side, but we just want to make sure that, if the dam is built, as many people as possible get fair compensation,” Danetta said.

“Who’s your backer?” Helen asked.

“We are not at liberty to discuss that,” Chethra said.

Behind Helen’s back, Danetta glared at her sister. “That is correct. Our client wishes to maintain anonymity.”

I almost laughed. Theo Cranston could never be called “anonymous.”

“Leaving here would be difficult,” Helen said.

“Remember, too, that you are at risk of floods even if the lake never comes to be,” Danetta said.

Helen laughed. “We’ve never had one come close to us in the 10 years we’ve been here.”

We headed back to the shack on another trail, just as narrow and thickly wooded as the other. Near the end was an aluminum canoe resting atop a small wooden platform. They used it for day trips and moonlit floats on the river, she said. “You wouldn’t believe how many stars you can see out here at night.”

Back on the front porch, I could tell Danetta was trying to think of another angle. I don’t know why any of us suspected it would be easy to convince a genius’s ancestors to pick up and move. We couldn’t just tell the truth. We’re from the future and we know you will die in a flood unless you move away from here. That would not go over well at all.

I heard the sound of a truck coming down the road. The forest was so thick that sound didn’t travel very far, so I knew it was close. We all turned to watch a blue pickup approach. It slowed as it passed our Jeep, then continued and parked on a small spot of ground cleared for that purpose.

A man about six feet tall got out and walked quickly toward us. Helen stood. Ever the polite guests, we did the same.

“Is Neil here?” the man asked as he approached.

“No, Joe, he’s not.” She turned to look at us. “They just happen to drive a truck like his.” I thought I noticed a hint of suspicion in her voice.

“Well, the Sheriff’s out looking for somebody who might have stolen Neil’s. Seems Frank Highsmith thought he saw a group of suspicious strangers driving it out of the Riverview Motel parking lot. Tom at the general store told me somebody was asking how to find our road. Since we’re the only people on it, I got worried and headed straight home to check on you. Looks like we have a group of strangers right here. I know that’s Neil’s Jeep. I’ve ridden in it many times, and I remember the dents and scratches. Who are you people?”

Thinking there was little time to waste now, and figuring I was a better liar than the ladies, I spoke up. “We know Dr. Compton, and he’s fine. We’re here to offer you a lot of money for your house and your land. If the dam is approved, your land value will plummet and you will be bought out for bottom-dollar by the government.”

“Neil knows you?” Joe asked.

“Yes. We borrowed his Jeep because we don’t have anything good for driving these roads.” I said. Oh, shit, it’s getting deep now. “We’re fighting for the same cause he is, but we want to make sure that potential victims have an out.”

“How about we wait for the Sheriff? He’s bound to be on his way here by now,” Joe said.

“If you’ll just accept our offer, then we’ll be on our way,” I said.

“What is your offer?” Helen asked. She looked at Danetta. “You never mentioned an amount.”

“We are prepared to pay you $150,000,” she said. I had no idea how she came up with that.

Did she still believe we might go to other homeowners and offer to buy them out, too? I think our friend Joe had made it clear that our plan was in jeopardy. We needed to get what we could and then do damage control.

“We are not interested in selling,” Joe said. “Besides, I’m not sure we can believe anything you say.”

The sound of an engine pierced the forest.

I picked up the case, set it on the table, and opened it. “Mr. Beers. Or is it Dr. Beers? This is cash. You can have it all, and we don’t want anything of yours. Just promise us that you will use this money to move your family. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here.”

“The only thing I can promise is that you are not leaving here in Neil’s Jeep,” Joe said.

“Falcon, what the hell are you doing?” Danetta said through clinched teeth.

The engine sound grew louder.

“I’m just trying to show the Beers family that our offer is sincere and that we have nothing to gain from this.”

“Joe, they did have plenty of time with me, alone, before you got here. They didn’t even ask to come in the house.”

“Still, nobody’s going anywhere until I have some answers.”

Around the bend in the road came a motorcycle, ridden by a boy whose age I guessed couldn’t be more than 10. He pulled up near the porch and shut off the engine.

It’s getting awfully damned crowded here.

The boy regarded us for a second, then said to Joe, “Hey, daddy, the sheriff’s coming. About a mile out.”

“Come up here with us, son,” Helen said.

The boy joined his parents, to us just another branch on George Beers’ family tree. All three of them would die by drowning if we were unsuccessful.

I heard the sound of another vehicle coming down the road. If we got hauled into jail, that would be it. We would not only fail; we would die painful deaths in that ancient era.

I pulled the BFG from my front pocket and aimed it at Joe. “Look –”

“Falcon, what the hell?” Danetta shouted. Chura and Chethra each said something, too, but I couldn’t make it out over Danetta.

“That sound is the doom of our plan and ourselves,” I said.

“Stop aiming that goddam gun at him,” Danetta said.

“He’s right,” Chethra said. “We can’t let that sheriff find us here.”

“Calm down, please,” Helen said.

I continued my thought. “As I was saying. We can’t drive that Jeep out of here. That’s obvious. But, we are upstream from where we need to be, and you have a canoe. New plan. You take the cash. We leave your friend’s Jeep and take your canoe. Sound fair, Joe?”

I saw sweat drip off Joe’s brow. Helen pulled their son in close and he laid his head on her shoulder.

“What kind of firearm is that?” Joe asked.

“One that will kill someone much more quickly than the guns you’ve seen,” I said.

“If you kill him, Falcon, then you don’t know how you’ll affect the –”

“That’s enough, Danetta!” I shouted.

There I was again, just making sure my customers, and I, got back to the jump in time.

“Affect what?” Joe asked. “What the hell’s going on here?”

“I’ll tell you. We’re going to go get your canoe and then float on down the river, never to be seen again, and you’ll take this $225,000 and move away from here,” I said. “Come on, ladies.” I walked backward to keep an eye on the family as my three partners in crime led the way.

They carried the canoe while I kept an eye out for Joe. We ran down the trail toward the river as the sound of the sheriff’s engine grew louder. Finally, it stopped. “Move faster,” I said. As I looked back, I could barely see the shack through the trees. I saw the boy run inside with the money.

“Godammit, Falcon! We’re going as fast as we can here. These briers are ripping my legs to shreds,” Danetta said.

“You guys, stop yelling,” Chura said. “It’s not helping.”

A voice called out, as if coming from a loudspeaker, “Stop! You are suspects fleeing the scene. I will pursue and use force if necessary.” I heard a car door slam.

I pocketed the BFG. We flipped the canoe over and it slammed onto the water. “It’s gonna be tight with four of us,” I said. “Chura, you probably have the best eyes, so you sit up front and watch for rocks and stumps. Chethra, Danetta, you two share the middle seat, and I’ll sit back here and steer.” They climbed in and made the wobbly walk to their seats while I held the canoe steady. Then, I pushed off as I climbed aboard. Chethra, the stronger of the two sisters, unclipped the paddle beside her legs as I did the same with mine.

The water was swift where we put in, so a chase on foot through the woods had no chance of catching us.

“What do I do?” Danetta asked.

“Sit there and look pretty,” I said.

“You’re lucky I’m not holding that paddle right now.”

“The river’s low, so we may have to drag some,” I said. “Now, paddle!”

The sheriff’s voice called out again. “Freeze!” I turned back to see him on the bank. He drew his gun and fired a warning shot skyward. Gambling that he wouldn’t shoot at us if I didn’t draw my weapon, I let the BFG rest in my pocket.

“Oh, now that somebody starts shooting, Mr. Cowboy decides to relax and take it easy,” Danetta said.

We made good time for about 10 minutes, then hit a long, deep stretch of water. We timed our strokes and kept moving, then had to get out and drag at the end of the pool. We floated past towering bluffs dotted with scraggly pines that somehow found enough soil to grow.

“Rock!” Chura yelled.

“Where?” I asked.

“To the right.”

I turned my paddle to pull us hard left. Chethra, who learned quickly, paddled on the left to straighten us up and pull us past the rock.

For the next few miles, it was more of the same. Paddle. Drag. Avoid rocks and stumps.

“Can’t they just drive ahead and get to us from downstream?” Chura asked.

“It’s not impossible, but the roads here don’t follow the river,” I said.

“What about that spot where we first hit the paved road? Right there where that bridge crosses the water. Don’t we have to go under that bridge?” Chura asked.

Chethra spoke up. “I spent quite a lot of time looking at the map, and roads cross it in several places between here and the canyon under Hawksbill Crag.”

They were right. As long as we stayed on that river, the sheriff and anybody else he enlisted would know exactly where we were headed. We had to get back on the road somehow.

(continue to Part Seventeen)