“Stop! What are you doing?” a voice yelled. She couldn’t see who it belonged to due to the glare of the flashlight he was holding.
The hammer about to smash a nail into her shoulder stopped as the angry lumberjack looked behind him. “We caught this terrorist spiking trees.” He still had one hand holding her off her feet with her back against the tree.
“So, we’ll call the police. We aren’t going to hurt people. We aren’t tree-spiking terrorists,” said the man with the flashlight.
“I wasn’t spiking trees,” said Bridget. “I was pulling spikes out.”
“Sure,” said another of the lumberjacks. He held up the Yahoo map she had taken from Flower. “She mapped the area she was spiking out. It looks like she covered the area we were going to cut in the morning.”