Dark Sky (Joe Pickett #21)(18)
“I’m really sorry,” she said. “I have to take this.”
* * *
—
Joe?” Marybeth said. She stood in the vestibule of the Burg-O-Pardner. “How is it going so far?”
“Let’s just say there’s tension in the air,” he said. “But I’ll tell you more later.”
“I’m surprised you called.”
“Yeah, me too. But there’s only one place on the face of the mountain that I can get an actual cell signal and I didn’t want to waste it. We’re way ahead of schedule, so I have the time. After this, I’ll have to call you on the satellite phone at night.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you took it with you.”
“Oh, we’ve got loads of gear,” Joe said wearily. “Sat phones, GPS units, PLBs, solar chargers, portable satellite broadband transmitters and receivers, and stuff I’ve never even heard of before. It’s quite a wilderness adventure.”
She laughed and could picture Joe grimacing at the sight of all that electronic equipment.
“That’s so Mr. Price can post everything you do on the trip,” Marybeth said. “But let me caution you. Don’t let him take photos of you or mention you by name. I looked on ConFab earlier and there’s already a lot of backlash.”
“Backlash?”
“Anonymous people say all sorts of horrible things on social media. You know that.”
“That’s why I avoid it.”
“I know, and it’s the right way to go.”
“What are they saying?” Joe asked.
“You can imagine, I think. People who are anti-hunters, vegans, people who call themselves humanists. They’re all flaming Steve-2 about going on this trip. They can get really vicious.”
“So there’s some bad stuff, huh?”
“It’s hard to remember sometimes that the people who comment are a really small percentage of the people on ConFab,” she said. “Only the worst ones actually post things, and they’re anonymous, of course. They’d never use their real names or say those things directly to Steve-2. But there are some good posts, too.”
Marybeth chose not to tell Joe about a few of the comments she’d read at lunch. One in particular suggested it would be a good outcome if Steve-2 and all of the people with him were murdered, beheaded, and their heads mounted on the wall as if they were the game animals they were hunting.
“Joe?” Marybeth said.
“Yes?”
“Do you think you could convince Steve-2 just to stay off-line for a while?”
“I really doubt if that’s possible,” Joe said. “These people are glued to their devices at all times. It’s like their phones are part of them.”
“Please try. I don’t want you to be the target of all these people. And I don’t want your daughters to see what people are saying about you.”
She could hear Joe take a long breath. “I’ll try,” he said.
“Take his phone away from him,” Marybeth said. “Tell him it’s for his own good.”
“You haven’t met him,” Joe said. “He thinks he’s doing something noble.”
“He might be, but try to convince him to keep it to himself until he’s done with the hunting trip.”
“It’s not that easy,” Joe said. “He wants people to get a clue where their food comes from through this trip. It’s important to him, or so he says. I have trouble arguing with that.”
Marybeth glanced inside the restaurant and saw Griffith reach out and call for the check. She was ready to leave.
“I’ve got to go,” she said. “Call me tonight.”
“I will.”
“And try to convince Steve-2 to go dark. The world doesn’t need to know everything he experiences. There’s value in solitude. Tell him that.”
“I kind of like that one,” Joe said.
“Love you.”
“Love you.”
* * *
—
Marybeth slipped her phone back into her purse and sat down at the table before the proprietor could deliver the bill to AnnaBelle Griffith.
“That was my husband. He’s high in the mountains where there’s no phone signal, so when he gets the chance to call, I need to take it.”
“Oh, I know all about that,” Griffith said with a loopy grin Marybeth hadn’t anticipated. “I saw his photo on my ConFab feed this morning. He’s up there guiding Steve-2 himself.”
Marybeth knew she’d recoiled. “You saw him?”
“Everybody saw him,” Griffith said. “I got texts from friends in Casper and all over asking if I knew Joe or about the hunt with Steve-2.”
“What did you tell them?”
Griffith said, “I told them I’d met him in passing, but I was actually having coffee with his wife just this very afternoon.”
“I don’t think Joe has any idea what he’s gotten himself into,” Marybeth said. “Social media is a cesspool.”
“Maybe he’ll go viral.”
Marybeth briefly closed her eyes and tried to regroup.
“Where were we?” she asked when she opened them.