The yellow sliver of moon was still low in the night sky, undulating in the summer heat.  Coyotes yipped in the distance and Cherry reached up to wipe her forehead, hoping they didn't get any closer.   On her back she wore a large russack that was nearly empty.  On her hip was a canteen of fresh water and clenched in her left hand was a shovel.  She tried to creep through the dry grasses and weeds that had overtaken the field as quietly as she could, cursing whenever one of her borrowed work boots hit a stone or sunk into a gopher hole.  She had taken no light with her and relied solely on her compass and excellent night vision to steer her in the right direction. 

It hadn't been easy sneaking back to the old farm.  It had been confiscated by the government along with all of her older brother's other assets, or so she'd been told.  It was sold to the US military as a possible location for a Japanese detention center after the bombing of Pearl Harbor but was passed over for an abandoned fairground. Still, in preparation of the sale huge barbed wire fences had been erected and steel gates had been placed long each of the entry roads.  Ten years had passed and the farm remained in the possession of the government, the barn had burnt down after a sentry had forgotten to put out a lit cigarette and the two story farmhouse had been knocked down to the foundation. 

Cherry had spent several weeks scouting for an ideal ingress and eventually had to create one in the south pasture near a copse of trees.  On the nights leading up to to her final journey she had gone over the maps she had pieced together from hints left in Ham's journal.  Ham had never been as loquacious as his younger brother Honey, but Cherry knew that whatever he had written was of great importance to him.  He wasn't able to leave her very many things before he passed and at first she thought the scribbles in the leather tome she'd received were nothing more than drunk ramblings and cocktail recipes for the speakeasy he and Honey had managed at the height of prohibition.  It wasn't until she had been inebriated herself that she realised there were key passages, misspellings and doodles that seemed to mean something more.  The scavenger hunt that ensued had nearly driven her crazy but it all lead back to the dirt clods and dry brittle weeds where she now found herself. 

"Shit!" She swore in a hushed tone.  She had rolled her ankle in the too big boots but made a stunning recovery as she flailed her free arm and used the shovel as a walking stick.  The yips in the distance suddenly sounded much closer and Cherry returned to the compass.  A few more hesitant steps and she stopped.   "This is the place?" 

She peered off into the distance and looked at the scrap of paper under her compass.  She had hidden her original map and after a few seconds of squirming she crammed the shreds into her mouth and swallowed them.  After a heavy swig from her canteen she took the heavy shovel in her hands and began to dig. 

Even in the relative cool of the midsummer evening Cherry found sweat was dripping into her eyes and stinging her palms.  She hastily wiped her hands on her overalls and cursed as newly forming blisters dragged on the rough denim fabric.  She took a deep steadying breath and gripped the glossy handle of the shovel she had purchased and a mom and pop hardware store several towns over.  The sharp steel edge bit into the crumbling dirt and Cherry heaved another scoop out of the hole she was laboriously digging. 

"Shit."  It was more of a flat statement than a curse and she wondered if she was speaking to herself, the earth or perhaps even God himself. 

She wiped her hands again, the silence settling over her, allowing to hear the evening breeze rustling the tall grass.  Over the wind and the sound of her own breathing she heard the yips and howls of the coyotes, wondering if they were getting even closer to where she was.  Why would they though? There were far more interesting things in the wild than one lone woman with a shovel.  She shook her head vigorously, as if that would rattle loose the intrusive thoughts of her own mangled body from her brain and perhaps invite in something more pleasant.  No matter what, she had to dig faster.  

The thin slice of moon was higher now, but shed no more light than it had before.  Cherry's arms were trembling with the effort of chucking out piles of dry rocky soil and she was nearing the end of her stamina.  As hope faded she gave one last vicious jab into the earth and was rewarded with a clunk.  "Oh thank Christ in heaven!"  She climbed down into the hole and frantically dug with her hands, palms screaming in protest.  After several broken nails and popped blisters she had unearthed a large leather bag.  She pulled herself out of the hole and hugged the bag to her chest.  The directions had been perfect.  Tears streaked down her begrimed face and she didn't even bother to brush them away.  After a desperate pull on the canteen Cherry crammed the satchel into her oversized canvas russack and tied the shovel to the back.  She turned to begin the trek back to the treeline when she saw a glimmer.  It took a moment to register the fact that there was more than one. Coyotes.  Their eyes glittered in the dim light of the crescent moon. 

"Shit."

She reached around her back to untie the shovel and tried not to look any of the coyotes in the eyes.  Her aching body shivered and her hands shook, fingers fumbling with the leather straps around the shovel.  She thought briefly of using her gun, but it only held six bullets and there were at least a dozen of the wild canids.  She frowned. Now that she didn't have to follow a complicated path it would be much easier to get back to the safety of the car.  The shovel slipped loose and she grinned.  Grabbing the handle she began to advance slowly towards her unwelcome visitors.   The coyotes retreated as she moved closer, walking backwards, their eyes even fixed on her.  There were low growls and the sound chilled Cherry to the bone.  She took a deep breath.

"They're more afraid of you than you are of them."  She thought back to outdoor training she had to her brother Hamish.  What had he said?  Be big, be loud?  Not what she wanted to do on a stealth mission in the dead of night, but it looked like she had to choice.  She gripped the shovel tight and raised it.

"From Perdition you came, from Perdition you return!"  She screeched and waved the shovel wildly, stomping forwards.  The coyotes ran a fair distance and then stopped.  She repeated the actions until she was close to the car.  With a final shout she tore open the car door and dove inside.  She blindly groped for the door handle and tugged the door shut.  She groped in her pockets for the keys and managed to jam them into the ignition without dropping them.  The night was thick around her and she struggled to stay on the roughshod road.  Finally she had gotten off of the property and onto the highway.  She sighed and released the painfully tight grip she'd had on the steering wheel.  

It was several hours and hundreds of miles later that Cherry returned home, satisfied she hadn't been followed.  She was excited to see what exactly she had rescued, but was too exhausted to move much further than her living room.  She drummed up the will to hide the shovel and the leather case and then collapsed onto her settee, falling into a sleep deeper and darker than the night sky.