The Drag Mark

The drag line slips off the trail into brush and ends at a culvert hidden beneath alder growth. Someone used the pipe as a cache. Inside you find bolt cutters wrapped in tarp, a red fuel can, rope dark with rain, and a broken handheld radio with a county inventory tag still glued to the battery door. None of it belongs out here by accident. The setup feels temporary but repeated, like a drop point reloaded after each run. Water slides through the pipe with a low rushing sound. Downstream, the culvert leads toward the old pump shed. Up the ridge, the tower beacon blinks through the rain and vanishes again.