Chapter 12 #2
“No shit,” Tom replied, finally giving in all the way. He reached in his pocket and pulled out Louis’s antibiotics, the six that were left, and gave them to me. “You can return these.”
I felt bad that I hadn’t caught up to him yesterday with the antibiotics, but frankly, as far progressed as this was, I very much doubted that would have made a difference. He should have thrown in the towel much earlier.
I didn’t say any of that. The driver told the other hiker to get in, they were leaving now. I barely had time to wish Tom well and then they were gone, heading toward civilization.
I took a moment to untense. I realized I’d been worried I was going to have to carry Tom out. And the way my knees were feeling, that would not have been easy. Or, just maybe, it was from being worried about him?
Did it matter?
I looked around. There was a red BMW SUV, engine idling parked about thirty yards from where the AT crossed the two-lane highway, backed off the road and mostly hidden from view.
The windshield was tinted so I couldn’t see who was inside.
That, and the way it was parked with the engine running, made my spider sense go all tingly.
There were a couple of hikers taking in the great view from a picnic table in a little spot just off the road. Two other empty cars, probably day hikers doing a loop.
No sign of Jenna or Claire.
I was getting ready to move on when another pickup truck rumbled up, several hikers in the back. Probably returning from spending the night in a nearby hotel or hostel in Helen, Georgia. As they unloaded, thanking the driver, I spotted Jenna among them.
She was still in the game.
Good for her.
She saw me and waved and headed over, after saying goodbye to the others who started up the trail. The shuttle took off, heading back to town. As she arrived, that left only her, me and whoever was in the BMW.
I didn’t like the situation.
“Good to see you still on the Trail,” I said, walking to her. I nodded toward the Trail. “Let’s get going.”
“Something wrong?” she asked.
“The SUV over there,” I said.
She looked over her shoulder. She literally staggered upon seeing it. “It’s him. Jeremy.”
Which was confirmed when the driver’s door opened and a man got out. He was young, in shape, wearing khaki pants and a black windbreaker, half zipped. He walked toward us like he owned the ground under his feet.
I didn’t like him simply because his name was Jeremy. I mean, seriously? That’s what his wife called him? Not Jerry?
He called out. “Get in the car, Jenna.”
Jenna and Jeremy, I thought. That had probably been cute for a little while.
She shook her head. “No. I’m finishing what I started.”
“You are not,” he said, stopping about five feet away.
But he was looking me over, trying to figure out what my role was in this.
I was doing the same. I mean, seriously.
I’d just talked to a few people and look what was happening?
Medevacking a Marine. And now a nuts spouse? So much for growing socially.
Jenna took a step back and sort of behind me, because, of course, I’m the human shit magnet.
“Who the fuck are you?” Jeremy asked me.
I tried smiling, which I’ve been told I shouldn’t do as it comes off somewhat differently then I desired. “Just another hiker.”
He frowned. “You fucking my wife?”
I blinked. That was a hell of a jump. “I don’t want any trouble,” I said and I really meant it. Because I had other trouble looming in the form of some woman tracking me.
“Get in the beemer, Jenna,” he ordered.
Seriously, he called his own car a beemer? I was starting to dislike this guy.
“No.”
He shook his head and came forward. I didn’t move until he reached around me and grabbed her arm hard, jerking her forward. That, in combination with her backpack, caused her to fall to her knees.
I hit the quick releases on my ruck straps—I’d done the same when ambushed once or twice—and before it hit the ground, I had the arm which was grabbing her and twisted it, causing him to let go. I then pushed him back, giving us separation using the pain in his wrist to control him.
“Get the hell out of my way,” he said to me.
“She doesn’t want to go with you,” I said. I helped Jenna to her feet.
“It’s none of your damn business,” he snarled. “You are fucking her, aren’t you?”
I looked up and down the road. No vehicle moving. No one on the trail.
Jeremy’s hand started to slide inside his jacket. Maggs, who’d been hanging back, came forward to my right side and let out a low growl.
“You pull a gun out,” I said, “you’re going to be eating it.
” I felt stupid as soon as I said it, because really, you shouldn’t threaten, you should just do.
But Jenna was here and I felt like I had to give it a chance to defuse.
Some might question my choice of defusing words, but I tend to have a limited vocabulary in these kinds of situation.
I think Maggs’ growl was more to the point.
Jeremy seemed to at least be considering the possibilities. He looked at me, at Jenna, and then at Maggs. He settled back on Jenna.
“You walk away now, you have no home. No place to come crawling back to. I’ll be done with you. Everyone will be done with you. You get nothing.”
Jenna took a step forward on my left, perhaps inspired by Maggs. “Is that a promise?”
I saw it in his eyes a moment before he moved.
The snap of insane anger. Seeing that gave me the moment I needed as his hand shot inside his jacket.
I grabbed hold of the gun hand as he brought a pistol out and I twisted it, bending so that the pain forced him to follow the torque to his knees.
I twitched some additional pressure and he dropped the gun.
“A little more,” I said, “and your wrist is broken.” I looked over at Jenna. “Should I break it?”
A slight moan of pain escaped Jeremy’s mouth. I sensed movement in my peripheral vision and glanced that way. Louis and his big backpack came off the trail. He paused, took in what was happening, then dropped his ruck with a loud thump and jogged over to us.
“Need some help?” he asked me. Then to Jenna. “You all right?”
She nodded.
“Could you pick up that gun,” I asked Louis.
He did so, gingerly as if expecting it to explode.
I relaxed the pressure on Jeremy’s wrist slightly.
Two more hikers appeared, a couple. They hurried over.
“What’s going on?” the woman asked.
“Crazy husband,” I said. “His wife,” I nodded at Jenna, “is trying to get away from him. Pulled a gun on her.”
I let go of Jeremy and took the pistol from Louis, checking it. The safety was on, but there was a round in the chamber. I dropped the magazine and ejected the round.
The female half of the couple had her cell phone out. She paused, looking at Jenna. “Do you want me to call the police?”
“Please don’t,” Jenna said.
But even as she said that an old pickup truck loaded with firewood in the bed pulled up and two guys with big beards and long hair got out. “Everything okay?”
They were looking at me, since I had the gun. Before I could say anything, Jenna succinctly explained.
A hostile circle was gathering around Jeremy, who was rubbing his wrist, and looking decidedly more nervous by the second.
“There’s a mine shaft not far away,” one of the pickup guys said. “No one will ever find him.”
He was bluffing, too many witnesses, although it was a good idea. But it helped push Jeremy even more off kilter.
“Fuck you,” he managed to sputter, then he turned and hurried toward his SUV. He got in, then spit dirt and gravel as he drove out of the spot onto the road and headed south.
Everyone watched, then turned to Jenna, offering various kinds of support.
The truck guys suggested driving her into town.
The other hikers were offering to accompany her on the trail.
Louis was suggesting various survival items. Maggs did the best, pressing up against her left leg and Jenna was absently running through Maggs’ thick hair, always a comfort.
I could tell Jenna was overwhelmed.
“She’ll be all right,” I told the others. “Just needs a moment, then we’ll be back on the trail.”
When the hell did I become part of a ‘we’?
The couple gave Jenna their cell phone numbers. As did the guys from the pickup. Louis grunted as he picked up his backpack and then he staggered off on his way. Finally, we were alone.
Which is when the dam burst. Jenna started sobbing, taking deep, heaving breaths.
Shit. What now?
“You’re okay,” I said.
She was shaking her head and still sobbing.
I put her husband’s gun in my pack, then reluctantly put my arms around her, her head buried against my shoulder.
“You’ll be okay.” I tried to dredge up my experience dealing with someone who was wounded.
No matter how bad the wound, even if you knew it was mortal, you reassured them.
You gave them physical contact, so they knew they weren’t alone in what could be their last moments.
In the worst situations even someone holding a hand could make all the difference in the world.
We stood like that for what seemed an eternity but was probably less than a minute. Finally, the sobbing stopped. She moved slightly and I let go.
“No one’s ever really helped me before,” she said, wiping away tears. She was amazed. “All these people standing up for me. There really is trail magic, isn’t there?”
“Sure,” I said.
“What do I do now?” she asked.
“Your phone,” I said, prioritizing as always.
“What about it?”
“Did you call the number I gave you?”
She shook her head.
“Do you want to?” I asked.
“Get a new life?” she said, but it was a question to herself, one she had to answer.
I waited.
Finally, she nodded. “Yes. There’s nothing in my old life I want any more. I want to be around people who give a damn about others.”
“I don’t think you should continue much farther on the Trail. He could still get ahead and wait somewhere. There won’t always be others around. Best to make the call now.”