Thunderbird: Prentiss Twins, #1

By Debbie Mumford

Janine Prentiss is tired of spending her summers digging up dinosaur bones with her single-parent father, an eminent paleontologist. But neither does she want to spend her summer vacation listening to her shaman grandfather's lame tales of spirit quests and totem creatures who talk.

Justin Prentiss thinks his twin sister is nuts. What kid in their right mind wouldn't love field camp? The wild beauty of Montana mountains, fresh air, and adults too busy to pay attention to what a guy is doing as long as he shows up for meals and bedtime. Field camp rocks!

At least until Janine finds a weird chunk of granite that she's convinced is a living egg...

• Language: English
• Publisher: WDM Publishing
• Release date: Oct 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393422471

Debbie Mumford

Debbie Mumford specializes in speculative fiction—fantasy, paranormal romance, and science fiction. Author of the popular Sorcha’s Children series, Debbie loves the unknown, whether it’s the lure of space or earthbound mythology. Her work has been published in multiple volumes of Fiction River, as well as in Heart’s Kiss Magazine, Spinetingler Magazine, and other popular markets. She writes about dragon-shifters, time-traveling lovers, and ghostly detectives for adults as Debbie Mumford and contemporary fantasy for tweens and young adults as Deb Logan.

Book preview

1

The Prentiss Twins

Janine

Life is so not fair. I mean, Dad tells me all the time how lucky I am. How he knows lots of kids who dream about dinosaurs and would give anything to go to a real live paleontology field camp. Yeah. Whatever. Those kids don’t have a paleontologist for a father and a full-blood Crow shaman for a grandfather.

I’ve spent my entire life around fossils — the rock kind and the legendary kind — and I’m tired of messing around with dead dinosaurs and nonexistent thunderbirds. I don’t care if the Museum of the Rockies is world famous for its dinosaur finds, or if our clan of the Crow tribe thinks it holds the special blessing of the thunderbird. I want to be a normal girl and play with live things for a change. I want to go to cheerleading camp.

Unfortunately, Dad doesn’t think cheerleading qualifies as a legitimate use of my time or his resources. A stance my shaman grandfather supports completely.

Please, Dad? I pleaded, resisting the urge to bat my eyelashes. I settled for twirling a lock of straight black hair around my index finger. Think how good this camp will look on my application when it’s time for college. I mean, cheerleading is an actual sport these days.

Invalid argument, he countered without looking up from his packing. Dad is so organized he could give lessons to a neat freak. Paleontology Field Camp is a far more impressive credential.

Yeah, well, I’ve already been to a million field camps, I said, sifting through my brain for a new angle. I need to … diversify. My app will look better if I do more things, show them I’m not just a fossil geek. Besides, cheerleading is a team building experience.

Dad stopped rolling socks into tight little knots, straightened, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He scowled at me. I am not paying an arm and a leg for you to run off with a bunch of hyperactive preteens for the summer. I have no idea how well supervised that camp is, but the whole idea gives me a headache.

Come on, Dad, I tried not to wheedle, but my voice cracked under the strain. Sandra’s letting Haeley go.

And that’s another thing; I don’t like you calling your friends’ mothers by their given names. It’s disrespectful.

Mrs. Jessup asked me to call her Sandra, I countered. Haeley’s mom was the coolest. She stayed home, cooked delicious meals, braided Haeley’s hair, made sure everyone in the family had everything they needed, and she liked me. Let me call her Sandra. If Mom had lived, she would’ve been just like Sandra. They would’ve been best friends, just like me and Haels.

And don’t change the subject. You know Mrs. Jessup wouldn’t let Haeley go if it wasn’t safe. Really, Dad, cheerleading will show what a well-rounded person I am.

Good one, I thought, folding my arms across my chest and swallowing the smile that threatened to creep across my face. Too soon to celebrate.

"No daughter of mine is going to prance around in a skimpy outfit just so she can show off how well-rounded she is!"

Dad! I squealed, shocked out of my shoes. I mean, hello! I’m twelve years old, flat as a board, and just as straight up and down. My cheeks flamed and tears blurred my vision. I turned and ran for the door. That is so unfair, I yelled over my shoulder. I wish Mom were alive. She’d understand about being a girl.

Justin

Who in their right mind would want to play around with pom-poms all summer when they could be tromping through the mountains with almost no adult supervision?

Justin shook his head in amazement at his twin sister’s idiocy and then flattened himself against the wall outside Dad’s door as she raced past, tears streaming down her face. Girls — especially sisters, just didn’t recognize a good thing when they had it in their hands.

Personally, Justin lived for summers at the paleontology field camps. Lots of dirt and rocks, the excited buzz of the community when an important fossil was discovered, no chores, food he didn’t have to help cook. Fresh air, sunshine, and adults too busy with their own pursuits to care what he was doing as long as he showed up for meals and bedtime. Yep, field camp was a twelve-year-old boy’s dream vacation. He just hoped Janine hadn’t ruined everything by arguing with Dad.

He rolled his eyes at her stupidity and peeked around the door jamb at Dad. The paleontology professor stared out the second story window, hands on hips, jaw muscles twitching. Before Justin could decide whether or not to go in, Dad whirled to the bed, grabbed a pile of tee-shirts and slammed them into his duffle bag.

Justin swallowed hard and crept away from the door. He’d ask Dad about that air rifle later. Getting one was a long shot, but with Dad pissed no would be automatic. Besides, if he played his cards right — and Dad was in a good mood, he might convert a refusal into a new super soaker. He grinned. Yeah. A super soaker would be cool.

He bolted down the stairs in search of Janny. He’d need his sister calm if he was to have any chance at finding Dad in a good mood before they left for the mountains. How to pacify Janny? He sure couldn’t get her a trip to cheerleading camp — Gag! Who’d want to? — but there had to be something he could do to cheer her up.

Skidding to a halt in the middle of the kitchen, a brain wave hit him. Oh yeah. Was he brilliant, or what?

Hey, Janny, he called, scouting the kitchen and breakfast nook. Not there. He moved on to the great room. Janine! You in here?

When only silence answered him, Justin trotted over to the sliding patio door and stared into the backyard. Empty cedar deck, no movement in the garden plot, but he couldn’t tell about the treehouse, not with the oak in full leaf. Scanning the great room one more time, he opened the slider and jogged to the foot of the oak.

You up there, sis?

Floorboards creaked and Janine’s tear-stained face appeared above the window sill. What do you want?

Justin shaded his eyes and peered up at her. I heard you and Dad yelling. Want some company?

Not really.

Okay. You stay there and sulk and I’ll keep my idea to myself.

She cocked her head, eyebrow raised. What idea?

I’m not talking to a tree. You want me to come up, or are you coming down?

The rope ladder unrolled to hang in front of him. Justin grinned and grabbed hold. Thanks, Janny. He scrambled up the rungs and pulled himself onto the smooth sanded floor.

Janine sat cross-legged against the far side of the treehouse. She wiped her face on the hem of her tee-shirt and then folded her hands in her lap.

Sorry about cheerleading camp, he said, working hard to keep a straight face. Girls!

You heard, huh?

He allowed a tiny smile to slip past and tug at his lips. Kind of hard not to. You and Dad weren’t exactly being quiet.

She shrugged. So what’s your idea?

Well, I know I can’t change Dad’s mind, but what if you could spend the next couple of days with Haeley? I mean, I’m sure she’d invite you over, and if I volunteer to do all your chores and make sure you’re packed, Dad wouldn’t have any reason to say no, now would he?

Janine’s eyes lit and she sat up a little straighter, but then she narrowed her eyes and studied him. Why would you agree to do all my chores? What’s in it for you?

Busted, he said with a sigh, but smiled inwardly. They weren’t twins for nothing. Janine knew him, just not quite as well as she thought she did. Look. I want to ask Dad for an air rifle and there’s no way I’ve got even a glimmer of a chance if he’s not in a good mood. What do you think the odds are of him feeling chipper if you’re moping and whining at him all day?

I don’t mope and I don’t whine.

Do too.

Do not.

All right. Fine. I’ve still got a better chance if you’re out of my way.

Dad’s not going to buy you an air rifle, she said, the whisper of a smile in her voice.

Yeah, well, that’s my problem, not yours. Do we have a deal?

She considered a moment and then stuck out her hand. Deal.

Great. You go call Haeley and get yourself invited. I’ll deal with Dad.

2

Janine’s Discovery

My fight with dad had happened several days ago, and where was I now? Sure as heck not at cheerleading camp with Haeley and all those other lucky girls. Nope. After spending two glorious days with a real family, I was smack in the middle of the Absaroka Mountain range, living in a tent and listening to geeks chatter about little bits of rock. Ain’t life grand? Of course, Justin didn’t get an air rifle either, so some sense of justice remained in the universe.

You’d think I’d at least be able to sleep in on my summer vacation, but no! Not with Dad running the schedule.

Rise and shine, sleepyheads, Dad called from the entrance to the tent. Lots to do today and Duffy has bacon and eggs to get you started.

I pulled the sleeping bag away from my face, sniffed the frigid mountain air and retreated back into my warm nest. Across the tent, Justin groaned and thudded to the floor. I shook my head. My twin brother always forgot he was on a cot the first few mornings. Rolling out of bed wasn’t just a saying for Justin; it was reality. I squirmed on the narrow cot and reached to the bottom of the bag to grab my clothes. We’d learned years ago to stow the next day’s clothes inside our sleeping bags so they’d be warm when it was time to put them on.

Shucking pajamas and dressing without ever sticking a toe out of my sleeping bag was an art form, but one I’d mastered young. When I emerged from the warmth of my covers, I just had to pull on my hiking boots and jacket to make my dash to the latrine. We were lucky this year; the volunteers included an experienced trail guide. He’d led the others in rigging a nice outhouse complete with a covered extension with running water and washbasin. Sure, the running water was a hose, but at least the hose was equipped with a spigot and attached to the washstand. Total luxury for our washing convenience. Showers and actual baths would have to wait until Town Day, when everyone loaded in the Range Rovers and drove into Red Lodge for supplies and personal time. I hated roughing it, but at least this year I could brush my teeth and wash my hands with relative ease.

Morning scrub completed, I raced across the rocky ground and into the warmth of the mess tent. Dad and Justin were already heaping their plates with scrambled eggs and crisp bacon. Guys! How did they always beat me to the food?

As I joined the serving line, one of the grad students pointed me out to a volunteer. That’s Janine Prentiss. Dr. Prentiss’s daughter. She’s Justin’s twin sister.

Where’s Mrs. Prentiss?

The grad student shook her head. She died in childbirth. Poor man has had to raise those kids all by himself.

I forced my attention away from the gossiping women and focused on filling my plate with Duffy’s excellent breakfast. The old man didn’t cook fancy, but served hearty meals in communal fashion. I might not want to be here, but I sure wouldn’t starve. Hot food and plenty of it, that was Duffy’s motto.

I joined Dad and Justin at a small table and plopped into a chair.

Justin glanced at my face, frowned, and then looked around. He grimaced when he saw the women staring and whispering, but turned back to his breakfast. Ignore them, he said under his breath. They’ll be too sore tonight to make comments.

I grinned in spite of my irritation. He was right. Neither of them looked up to the task. Working on an archaeological dig was hard, physical work. Every year Dad had to deal with volunteers who didn’t really understand what they’d signed up for despite all the warnings during the application process. Even so, it was rare for a volunteer to leave before they’d done their required three weeks, but some of them made us wish they’d give up just so we wouldn’t have to listen to their whining.

We’ve identified three promising sites, Dad said, oblivious to our inattention. Do you two want to help with one of those sites, or do you want to scout the area for other spots?

Justin and I exchanged a quick look. We understood each other perfectly. I shrugged and he answered, We’ll explore. See if the advance team missed anything.

Dad bit a piece of bacon in half and smiled while he chewed. After a quick swallow of coffee, he said, I thought you’d say that. Stay together, and keep within shouting distance.

We nodded and dug into our food. Of course we’d stay together. We always did.

The day was already warming up when Justin and I emerged from the mess tent. Bellies full, we stretched and eyed the landscape. To the north, beyond the hulking mess tent, the identified sites sat atop a limestone ridge just above a field of broken rock. A slide had opened those sites. Beginner stuff. Everyone knew to check where the land had voluntarily given up its secrets. Justin shaded his eyes with a hand and gazed to the east; I turned toward the west and inspected the