A Family Summer
Copyright© 2026 by Sonarflash2026
Chapter 4
Glad she had taken the trouble the previous year, Dana grasped a rope safety line tied into ring pitons she had driven into fractures along the cliff face. She eased over the drop, finding a projecting ledge with the toe of her climbing boot. With both hands gripping the rope, she slid sideways, toes clinging to a small, fractured lip, one hand always tightly gripping the safety line above her head. She moved towards a protruding bluff on her right, glancing back to make certain Ken was following her example. He kept his hands on the rope, his cheek almost kissing the cliff face, following close behind. Dana vanished around the corner. He slid boots along, the small outcrops widening to a ledge. Though anxious, he was glad for the strung rope. He picked up the pace, edging onto a wider shelf, glad when he once again caught sight of Dana.
After only a couple of minutes, they rounded another shoulder. The rope was knotted in another ring piton and dropped straight down a couple dozen metres.
Dana looped the rope over and under, leaned back and started a rappel, absailing and squealing with delight all the way down. His breath caught. He looked over the edge just as she landed on a steep slope of fine scree. With the rope slack, he copied her, managing a quick repel down to her side. With a leap, Dana began sliding and bounding down the fifty degree incline. Not to be outdone, Ken followed, digging in heels, boots skiing down a mix of basaltic scree, talc and tuff. Flaked schist and pulverized basalt shifted and sent up clouds of dust in their wake. Slowing, quickly reaching a scattering of basalt slabs and crumbling boulders, they bounded, slowing amid the scattered stands of old, bleached ponderosa pines. Underfoot, the ground was layered with a thick carpet of dried needles.
“Hurry!” Dana grasped Ken by the hand, leading him in a downhill run. Together, they crashed through a maze of brush, then crossed to a streambed. A well beaten game trail appeared, that track parallel to the dry wash. Unexpectedly, the earth trembled, almost knocking them off their feet.
“Faster,” Dana urged, tugging at his hand. “We’ve got to get well away from the volcano!”
“But, it’s extinct,” he protested, gulping breaths, adjusting his pace to keep up with her.
“Not for long,” she replied. As though to punctuate her words, the ground shook again, rolling like water beneath their feet.
They alternately jogged and walked, struggling to ignore repeated, grumbling quakes.
Forest opened ahead. Their breaths harsh, the pair finally reached the edge of a broad, rectangular field where thick alfalfa hay was still green. Beyond trees and undergrowth, The lake, lodge, cabins and parked vehicles were partially visible to their right. Near the opposite shore, a rowboat held two small boys and a man, life-jackets making them look bulky.
Uncle Dan,” Dana commented, unable to identify the boys.
“The blond kid is probably my brother Bobbie,” Ken told her. “Other one is likely your cousin Zach. Thomas doesn’t like fishing.”
Dana angled towards the lake, leading Ken around a grove of blue spruce, then down a steep dirt road, then left, off into a thick stand of tall ponderosa pines and tangled undergrowth.
“Isn’t this the wrong way?” Ken asked, stumbling as the ground rolled.
Abruptly, streamers of intense light erupted from the sun. Ground shuddered, rolling violently, knocking both teens to their knees.
“Shit! That was a serious quake,” Ken said with obvious surprise.
“Worse coming,” Dana said quietly, squinting at the strange solar activity before Nervously glancing back up the mountain. She tugged his hand, leading him in among the ancient evergreens. Another tremor shivered through the ground. A swishing, unearthly breath of electric wind seemed to pass through their bodies like static. Tall pines swayed. Soon, the lake was screened from view by trees and scattered brush.
Ken stared. Charcoal black in sunlight, almost twenty metres tall and easily twice as wide, a basalt intrusion filled a circular, sunlit clearing.
“Wow! A sentinel stone,” he commented, glancing around, puzzling at the circle of ponderosa pines. “Almost like it was placed here.”
“My secret retreat,” Dana said, hurrying around to a weathered, concave dip on the western side. “Stumbled on this place a couple years back.
A sizeable lean-to of woven branches and evergreen boughs angled out from the large basalt intrusion. Dana checked all around, cocking her head as though listening. Only then did Ken notice the absolute stillness. There were no bird songs. No crows or ravens were uttering calls.
“I’m afraid there’s a real big one coming,” Dana said, shrugging off backpack and rifle. She grasped a frame of pine poles and flipped it away from the rock wall. An old excavation was revealed. Ken blinked in surprise, seeing that an oval hollow had been shoveled down through pine needles and dirt. A ledge extended from the basalt intrusion, folding down into the dirt. There was a circle of scorched fire stones, ashes and embers. Back of the fire circle, there was a tangle of thorny brush and sticks. Dana took hold of a branch, pulled and tossed aside a camouflage plug, revealing an overhang and the black mouth of a cave. She grasped pack and rifle, dropped to knees under the overhang and scooted out of sight, dragging her gear along behind.
“Damn. No kidding it’s a secret,” Ken said, stepping down onto the fold of basalt, slipped off his pack and rifle. With a growl, the earth shook. On hands and knees, he rode out the trembling, then crouched down to look. The overhang sheltered a horizontal mouth about a metre high. The opening was glassy, looking glazed with obsidian. Dana emerged, urging him to follow. He scrambled, following as her boots vanished around a corkscrew twist.
Ken kept his head down, dragging his backpack, being careful with the hunting rifle. A narrow, serpentine tube angled upwards. Where he expected blackness, a bright, white glow flared and made him blink. A hissing butane lantern dangled from a metal ring. A steel piton shaft had been hammered into a ceiling crack. The cave wasn’t large, just a big, oval chamber frozen in rock. Another, smaller bubble connected with a tube that wormed upwards. Further in, there was another vent hole that looked black and uninviting.
“Damn!” he said, looking about. “A vent. Volcanic gas bubble.” Dana smiled, watching as he took in details and ran fingers over the rock surface.
Dana gestured. “First year I Brought in saplings to make a level floor. Last year I nailed down some planks.” She pointed up. “If there’s a real bad thunderstorm, it gets drafty. Sometimes water leaks in through that upper vent, but most just drains out through cracks.” She pointed at the rear opening. “Don’t go in there. Needs a rope ladder. Six metre vertical drop. There’s several big pools, a network of lava tubes and even an ice cave back towards the volcano.” She caught herself, bit her lower lip, then shivered. “I just hope they remain ice ... when whatever is coming hits.”
Ken studied her features and said nothing.
Dana moved onto a palate of pine poles and branches covered with a vinyl foam mat. She let out a sigh, leaned back against the wall and shivered.
“It’s ... going to be powerful. Awesome. I’m terrified. I hope we’ll be safe.”
“An earthquake?” he asked, Laying the rifle against his pack, looking around at the collection of items.
There was a wood crate covered by white canvas, squat old pewter candleholders and tall, white candles. A cardboard carton held an assortment of canned beans, chilli, corn and soup. He identified a fire-blackened cast iron Dutch oven, a well-used slightly rusted steel pot, cast iron frying pan and chipped enameled teapot. Kneeling before the old lounge mat, he studied her face.
“What can you see?”
“I’m not certain,” she said, looking up at him, offering a faint smile. “Feels worse than an earthquake. Something. This time, the feelings ... were very strange. Overpowering. The first time I saw those carvings, I was frightened ... and I recognized them...”
“Why?” he said, searching her deep blue eyes.
“Impossible to explain.” Her mouth quirked. “You saw that topmost glyph?”
He blinked, puzzled, then gave a nod. “The loop looks more like ... a ... Celtic knot.”
She gave a slow nod, then unbuckled her belt. Ken’s brows lifted. She unbuttoned her jeans, pulled down the zipper and rolled away from him.
He started making a throaty protest as she tugged down jeans, then apricot panties, exposing a dark blue tattoo on her right cheek.
“That’s ... the same loop!”
“Now you know why it’s frightening.” Dana jerked up panties, jeans and zipper. “I’ve had other glimpses. This was the worst. The overhang was a blank slate. I saw a time before the petroglyphs were created.”
He nodded uncertainly. “When did you get the tat?”
“Two years before dad discovered the petroglyphs,” she said.
“Shit! Weird, and mystical,” he said, waving around at the small cave, then towards the opening, saying, “this is interesting too. Like a standing stone in a sacred grove. Could imagine a celebration of pagan rites taking place here.”
She snickered, cocking her head at him. “A few have,” she said, giving a laugh before her voice took on a reverent tone. “This is my circle. My sacred spot. Where I come to meditate.” She caught and held his eyes, grinning. “For the past two years, I’ve perform rites under the full moon.”
“Dancing naked?”
“A couple of times,” she said, showing a sly smile, giving him a sidelong look.
“You’re teasing me,” he said, cocking an eyebrow at her, settling on the foam, keeping a circumspect gap between them. Another look around revealed a small metal feed drum with a tight lid.
“What’s that for?”
“Dry goods,” she replied. “Survival provisions ... just in case.”
There was a crib made from planks, the inside stacked with sawn cordwood. She also had a box heaped with tinder and twigs. He took in everything, wondering, “did you do all this yourself?”
“Yes. During my first summer vacation here. I was twelve. Before dad discovered the petroglyphs,” she added, leaning so that their shoulders pressed together, waving towards the entrance. “I was exploring. After walking around the intrusion and climbing to the top, I settled out there. Experienced another one of my visions. So, I got a trenching tool and flashlight from the lodge, dug and dug, and found the cave mouth. After clearing it, I kind of moved in. Nobody else knows. Each summer, I lay in fresh supplies. I can shoot, so Dad let’s me go camping by myself.”
Their heads turned and Ken stared into her eyes. “Okay, I’ll bite. Are you really a practicing witch?”
She grinned at him. “Not officially Wika,” she said, pointing towards the entrance. “But, I really did dance naked around that fire under the full moon.” “So, now you probably think I’m weird. A pagan, having premonitions, seeing things before they happen.”
“That kind of stuff is interesting.” He shrugged. “I’m into science. Quantum physics has opened up whole realms of weird. Observation determining experimental outcomes? Then there’s quarks, spin, charm, neutrino flavours, quantum foam, gravity waves, black holes, string theory, multiple universes. The list goes on and on. I find it all pretty fascinating. I’m sceptical, but try to keep an open mind.”
“What about girls?” she asked, searching his eyes. “We can be fascinating too.”
“Yes,” he said carefully, cheeks flushing, eyes suddenly intense. “Especially a knockout pretty girl who talks about accelerator mass spectrograph dating., then drags me down the side of an extinct volcano and shows me a tat on her butt cheek. Fascinating.”
‘Fascinating and knockout pretty?’ Dana thought, mind racing, pulse once again hammering in her temples. “Well, in for a penny...” Tossing her hair, she gave him a practiced, coy smile, saying, “brains and beauty. That’s me. With a little psychic weird tossed in to the mix. Grinning, eyes twinkling, he chuckled again. She met his gaze directly, saying carefully, “your eyes ... they’re like living moss, sometimes with a bit of emerald. I could stare into them forever.”
Searching her face in a moment of uncertainty, throat revealing another blush, he said huskily, “Yours are gorgeous. That deep, cobalt blue makes you look mysterious, and, pardon me for trite, very bewitching.”.”
“Well, here goes nothing,” Dana thought, licking parted lips, asking quietly, “Okay Ken, those are nice openings. You want to make out with me?”
Eyes going even wider, he took a few deep breaths, saying carefully, “that’s pretty direct. We just met.”
“Not a trick question, college boy,” she said. “People waste so much time dancing around issues and playing with social niceties. First impressions, I like what I see. We clicked. Unfortunately, Melinda thinks she has her claws in you.”
He snorted. “You noticed, “he said, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “She started coming on to me last year. Every time I came home from Stanford. Drove me nuts. I’ve never given her any encouragement. She has the intellect of ... well, let’s just say she is a few beans shy of a full sack.”
Dana chortled, sucked a quieting breath and said, “okay, is my question too difficult?”
“I’d be an idiot to say no,” he said, grinning, “but this isn’t California. what exactly do you consider making out?”
“Everything,” she said with a laugh. “We can start with necking ... then see where things go from there. But, not if you have bad breath. I French, but don’t like bad breath or slobbery tongues shoved down my throat ... well, not unless they taste good.”
He flashed his gleaming smile. “I brush twice a day, floss and use mouthwash ... but, you’re only sixteen. Jail bait. Probably a virgin?”
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