The premise of Antler Dust, Colorado resident Mark Stevens’ first novel, is enticing. It’s about Allison Coil, a female hunting guide working the big elk hunts in the Colorado Flat Tops Wilderness and two killings—of humans—on the opening day of hunting season. One death involves the “creative suicide” of Ray Stern, an animal rights activist with the group FATE—Fighting Animal Torture Everywhere. The second killing involves another guide. It’s not a whodunit. We know who did the deeds. It’s more about Allison, since she saw something, and her private investigations beyond what the police are doing. They seem preoccupied with PR issues.
There are a cast of characters—outfitter and pilot, George Crumley, who caters to fat-cat hunters that fly in on their private jets. George insures trophy winning results. His wife, Trudy, has a medical condition causing occasional seizures, which requires someone to baby-sit her all the time. George is happy to provide a constant guard. One of them gets a little too close to Trudy. Allison, who works for a competing outfitter, and Trudy become friends and both play important roles in the story's ultimate outcome. Dawn Ellenburg is the head crusader of FATE and is going to milk the public relations benefit of the killing of one of her group for all its worth. She gets national coverage. Dean Applegate is the newly converted hunter-guide who now sees the error of his ways, joins FATE, and makes speeches—a dream fulfilled for Ellenburg. Then there is Slater, Allison’s Forest Ranger boyfriend, seemingly a nice guy.
Allison is a likable protagonist. She’s smart, capable and courageous, but not so perfect that she strains credulity. How did she get into such a business? She was a survivor of a commercial jet airplane crash into Long Island Sound. After that life defining moment, she dropped out of her previous corporate-city existence and was fortunate enough to get hired by Weaver, an outfitter of integrity. She learned on the job.
About Allison, early in the book:
A group of animal rights protesters had set up tents at the base of the mountain that morning. She had not given much thought to them until now. She imagined that most of them were like the men she had left back at the hunter’s camp, city dwellers out on a lark. But with the coming snowstorm, they just might learn the hard way that Mother Nature was indifferent to the rights of everyone and everything on this planet. You might as well protest earthquakes, fires, floods, and falling airplanes.
Allison—a rational realist. Perhaps that’s why I liked her from the beginning.
Later, contemplating the airplane crash:
Two years now in the mountains, and she was beginning—barely beginning— to consider that notion that she had, in fact, been lucky. Another few seconds further down that runway and the drop would have been an exponentially greater slam to reality. A few seconds more and 31 dead could have been 119 dead....Death, she had learned, is simply a corpse you carry around underneath your skin. Until one day it pops free.
The narrator in Allison’s head...about Slater while in conversation with him:
Coil with a cop-like guy? The idea was a constant source of amusement. It wasn’t necessarily forever, but nothing yet made her think that would be unbearable. He didn’t seem to have the typical government mentality. Also, he was strong and straightforward. Coil had never before been with a man who could be classified in the “straightforward” category. Slater was a trim six-footer with an engaging face, dark eyes over a slender nose....Coil liked the way he moved and talked, all careful and in control, but he could flip over to relaxation mode without much effort.
And later, more on Slater:
The last full-fledged boyfriend she’d had, after the airplane accident, was hung up on every mystical song Van Morrison had ever sung. He was a mental drifter, a searcher, who calculated the price of belonging to every structure or organization as some sort of personal sacrifice.
Not Slater. He was somebody who saw his place, or at least knew how to pretend he did. As a result, the picture of comfort and suggestion of stability was strangely inviting.
I chuckled at that bit because while I'm am not a drifter—mental or otherwise—I tend to agree that "the price of belonging to every structure or organization as some sort of personal sacrifice." And I learned how to "pretend" in the corporate world. Another significant conversation with Slater:
"Indoctrination. That’s the city life too. It wears you down. Conform or else,” said Coil.
“Really? I thought the city was where all the weird folks could hide, do their own thing. I thought non-conformity was the point and why people liked living in the city to watch it all go down.”
“Conformity at the corporate level, I suppose, said Coil. “Wear certain suits, read certain books, hang out in just the right places, say just the right things.”
“Well, you fit in here, too,” said Slater. “Half the folks in the mountains out here are runners, anyway.”
“I didn’t run from anything.”
“No?”
“I just needed trees and sky. And I knew I’d never fly in an airplane again.”
“So you needed a new home. I’m no philosopher, but isn’t that all of us? Either happy with our homes or looking for something better?��
FATE leader Ellenburg and hunting guide Allison Coil in conversation:
“Sorry,” said Ellenburg. “But how exactly do you sit there and watch these beautiful animals being killed and carved up?”
Actually, I don’t sit there, I show them exactly how to gut and quarter.
“Probably not a good idea to get into it,” said Coil. “I think we can just agree to disagree on that one.”
“No seriously,” said Ellenburg. “These majestic, beautiful creatures. Slaughtered. and you think it’s okay? You seem like a woman with a bit of a world view, If I’m not mistaken. It’s just a hunch but you seem smarter than the average local up here.”
“I’m from the city, originally, it’s true,” said Coil. “I respect what you’re doing and I respect your point of view. It’s just not mine. The fact of life today is that you can’t let the elk and deer population explode unchecked. There are just too many. And hunting is older than the wheel. It’s just the way it is. You can’t go back and undo the fact that human beings have the ability and the desire to hunt. It’s an animal instinct.”
Ellenburg shook her head slowly.
“You think people—societies, whatever— have no control over their future?”
“I think reality is reality,” said Coil. “That’s all.”
Some people die accidentally. Some people die because they are hunted and killed in war. They all end up in the same situation. Hunting is part of human nature.
Coil took a tentative step back. She knew this was headed nowhere but ugly.
There is more on hunting. The title has meaning, but the reader doesn't know where it fits until near the end. And there are interesting references to FATE as a political commune, the easy manipulation of the news with “visuals,” government as a dangerous servant and fearful master. The few sex scenes are skillfully written, which is to say they are not at all crude and they help explain the nature of the characters. They weren't just thrown in. Slater is not who he seems....
I’m not going to spoil the story with a plot analysis. Just know that it is full of turns, surprises and dangerous times for Allison Coil and a few others who don’t fare as well as she does.
An author bio from Stevens’ website says,
The son of two librarians, Mark Stevens was raised in Lincoln, Massachusetts, graduated from Lincoln-Sudbury Regional High School and, four years later, from Principia College in Illinois. He worked as a reporter for The Christian Science Monitor in Boston and Los Angeles, covering a variety of events and issues from the economy, commercial fishing, the environment, politics and all the colorful people and events of southern California. Following a move to Denver, he worked for The Rocky Mountain News, covering City Hall for three years. When he learned that The MacNeil/Lehrer NewsHour was expanding its production he was lucky enough to be invited to join the team – they were actually looking for somebody with no television experience, which suited him perfectly. For six years, he produced field documentaries across the United States and Latin America. He covered the 1985 earthquake in Mexico City, NASA’s space shuttle disaster, a volcano eruption in Colombia, political upheavals in Nicaragua, and mudslides in Puerto Rico. His “master of disaster” title, he was told, referred to the stories he covered, not the quality of the reports. After tending bar for a year on a self-financed sabbatical (and to write fiction), he joined The Denver Post to cover education. Those five years of reporting led to a position as Director of Communications with Denver Public Schools for more 11 years and then with the school district in Greeley for a year. He now works in communications with the state department of education. Stevens lives near Congress Park in beautiful downtown Denver with his wife, Jody Chapel, and two daughters, Ally and Justine.
So author Mark Stevens is a city guy with a history in journalism and public relations. The background helps—the references to PR and news management evidently come from experience. He also knows how to build tension and write a darn good mystery. He adhered to Elmore Leonard’s rule number ten: “Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.” I thoroughly enjoyed Antler Dust and am looking forward to his next book.