“Tell me again why you think that bone is human?” Bill asked Ingrid as they stared down at the skull behind the shed. It had taken Ingrid several minutes to convince Bill to pull himself away from rewiring the hookups at site twenty-one and come with her up to the sheds. Evidently, racing down the service road like a bat out of hell and yelling for him halfway through that journey was not enough to set Bill’s alarm bells ringing. Ultimately, it was the look in her eyes and paleness of her normally tanned complexion that convinced him. He hopped in the side-by-side, they dropped Alice off with Sarah in the main office, and then they headed back up the hill.
“It’s human. Look, Bill, it’s a damn face. It’s busted to hell, but it’s a face.” Ingrid was poking at the skull with the same stick she’d used earlier, trying to get it positioned, to make the “face” appear.
“Okay, Ing, I get it.” Bill pulled the cell phone out of his front pocket and poked at the screen, then put it up to his ear.
“Hey-a Kathy, it’s Bill out at Wandering Hills…yeah, yeah, I know it rhymes, super funny…anyway can you send someone up here? We got kind of a situation.”
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