“Well, you can say what you want,” said Grant Willem, the company’s number two man on the site. “But Bobby did see something weird last night.”

“What? What did he see?” Ceballo shouted. “I’ve asked the man a dozen times to tell me what he saw, and all he can say is gibberish about big hairy creatures.” He let out a sigh. “For all I know he was into the spirits last night too.”

“You can badmouth him all you want,” Willem said, his tone even and calm. “But something was on-site last night and turned over a couple of our cars.”

Ceballo bent at the waist until he was eye to eye with the seated Willem. “Something! Some-thing didn’t do anything last night; it was those protesters. They snuck up here, scared the pants off our so-called security guard, and then they rolled our cars. That’s all that happened…Nothing more!” He finished off his words by looking around the room, making eye contact with everyone in the trailer.

Grant Willem was unshaken by Ceballo’s intimidation. “Yeah, well even if that’s all it was, that’s still pretty impressive. How many people do you think it would take to turn over one of those vehicles? Ten? Fifteen?” He shrugged. “However many it took, they managed to get up here, turn over the cars, and get away again without waking any of us up. I’d say that’s something to be worried about.”

Several of the other loggers nodded in agreement.