Chapter 13
Luke was waiting in his van, his very nice electric van of which I would never say anything negative, at Unicoi Gap. The Trail had been particularly hard getting here, with steep climbs and hazardous descents. I thought it was fitting for Jenna’s last day on the AT.
We hadn’t talked much on the way. A lot of that was due to being out of breath, me more so than her.
I think she was lost in thought and worry.
But mainly, I think she was in a slight state of shock over the change that she was in the midst of.
There is the concept of change and then the reality of change. Right now, reality was hitting her.
I introduced the two and Jenna put her ruck in the back of the van and got in the passenger seat. Then Luke and I excused ourselves to talk privately. We walked away to a nice spot, with a great view of the mountains ahead of me. Nature. Got to love it.
“Having fun, Max?” he asked.
“Loads.”
“Rescuing lost souls again,” Luke said with a smile.
“Is everyone happy now that I’m talking to people?” I asked.
“Rose is wondering if you fell off the face of the earth,” Luke said.
I shook my head. “I want to use my cell and the satphone as little as possible because of what I told Coral. Let Rose know please.”
“Sure,” Luke said. “And I’ll tell her you love her and miss her, right?”
“Of course, asshole.”
“She’s doing good,” Luke said. “I think she’d needed some time to decompress.
All of us do. It’s been a hell of a year and this storm didn’t help.
We need to regather our strength because once the road opens up and we go back .
. .” He trailed off, then nodded at the van.
“Think she’ll be a good addition to the town? ”
“I’ve got no idea. She’s escaping something bad. What lies ahead?” I shrugged.
Luke didn’t press it.
“Did you talk to Pike about his phone?” I asked.
Luke nodded. “He says he hasn’t used it in over ten years.
Never even turned it on. But he did use it to talk to Reggie and Marley’s parents.
They were working joint drug task force in Colombia, which somehow Pike was involved in via a mission tasking from Herc.
The last time he talked to them, they called him, afraid and asking Pike if he’d take care of their boys.
He said he would, told them where he was, and that was the last he heard.
Until the boys showed up in Rocky Start.
They’d been given the address by their grandfather, who’d disappeared on the trek north.
Pike assumes both parents and the grandfather are dead. ”
“So Pike was working for Herc even after settling in Rocky Start?”
Luke nodded. “Years ago. I think Herc kept leverage on him. Nothing in the last ten years.”
“What do you think?” I asked.
Luke shrugged. “It’s been so long, why is someone still monitoring it? Not just that but reacting if this woman is here.”
“I’ll ask her next time I see her.”
“Don’t get killed,” Luke suggested, because that’s the kind of friend he was. Always dispensing insightful advice that would never have occurred to me.
“I don’t know what I’d do without your wisdom,” I said.
“Stumble around walking in the woods,” Luke said.
“The Ferrells have anything on the tattoo?”
Luke didn’t look happy about that. “A Colombian Cartel. That tattoo on the back of the hand usually indicates a sicario, specifically FARC.”
I knew of that group. A revolutionary movement that had shifted into the drug trafficking business to finance their operations; with the drug trafficking becoming so profitable they’d lost track of the revolution.
“And the hits just keep on coming,” I said. “Pun intended.”
“Yeah. Don’t get killed.”
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“It bears repeating. You know you can just pull the plug on this walk in the woods.”
I thought of the people I’d met so far. Tom, who would be back on the trail eventually. Claire and her goal of Fontana. Jenna sitting in his van to start a new life. “I’ll get to where I stopped last time.”
“Where you got ambushed last time,” Luke clarified, because he was big on pesky details. He changed the topic. “I got an update on construction. Tennessee is starting work on their end of the road. I’m not optimistic but we might be able to go back in less than a month.”
I nodded. “That would be good.”
“Aren’t you having fun out here?”
“This talking to people thing just brings trouble,” I said.
“I think you’re a shit magnet,” Luke said, subtle as ever. “You bring it out in people.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Luke said. “You helped save Rocky Start from Serena, then Geoffrey Nice and then finally Herc. And now—” he nodded at the van—“saving another wayward soul. Maybe you should become a preacher.”
“The church of Max.”
He shook his head. “I’d center it around Maggs. She’s prettier.”
“The Church of Maggs,” I said, looking down at her. “Yeah.”
“Want me to come back and give you backup? We could walk in the woods together.” Luke asked.
He didn’t sound enthused about the idea. He had Jackie waiting for him. I shook my head. “I think I can handle it.”
“Right,” he said with a lot less confidence than I would have liked.
We went over to the van. Luke got in the driver’s seat, and I spoke across him to Jenna. “I’ll see you in a few weeks. In Rocky Start.”
She nodded. “I hope so.”
“I do too,” Luke added.
He really wasn’t a lot of help.
“By the way,” Luke added, “since you’re not checking your phone, do you know there’s a storm heading this way? Lots of rain, snow at elevation.”
“The human body is waterproof,” I said, channeling my inner Ranger.
Luke nodded. “You keep telling yourself that, Max. Let me know how it works out. I’m enjoying room service.”
Then they drove off.
I took a deep breath, then headed onto the trail. I just wanted a quiet day. A day where I didn’t get caught up in someone else’s drama
And I knew just thinking that was taunting the superior entity that controlled my reality.
Luke was right, of course, about the storm.
I moved fast, covering ground, as the sky darkened.
Less than a half hour after hitting the trail it began to drizzle.
The temperature was in the forties, which meant it was chilly.
The worst combination of weather is just above freezing and rain.
I’d prefer below freezing and snow. Of course, what I preferred did not matter to the Entities of weather.
By the time I got to the next shelter, it was pouring.
And colder. There was sleet mixed with the rain.
And night was looming. Louis was there with his big pack.
I recognized a few others by sight, not by name.
No sign of Claire and Boone. There were eight people crowded in the Tray Mountain shelter, basically a roofed platform with a sagging picnic table in front.
They looked really miserable. Everyone was soaked and dispirited.
I stopped short of the shelter and looked around.
A couple of other people had put up their tents and were hiding inside.
There was a fire pit in front of the shelter, but no one had gotten a fire going.
The rain showed no signs of stopping, rather it looked to be changing to sleet and then probably snow if it kept up.
I walked up to the shelter, soaked through despite my rain gear. Maggs shook herself the moment we got under the roof, spraying water everywhere, and I heard someone groan from inside.
“Sorry,” I said, dropping my pack.
People were huddled in their sleeping bags like refugees. The temperature had dropped into the high thirties, and with the wind driving rain sideways into the shelter opening, it felt closer to freezing.
Nobody was talking. All you could hear was the sound of rain hammering on the tin roof and teeth chattering.
“This is miserable,” someone said. A woman, maybe thirties, her voice flat with exhaustion. “This is absolutely miserable.”
“Worst day on the trail,” another voice agreed. Male, older. “I’m seriously considering quitting. Just hiking out to the nearest road tomorrow and going home.”
“If we survive the night,” someone else added. Not joking.
I looked around. Everyone was shivering, even inside their sleeping bags. Wet gear hung from every available surface, dripping steadily but not drying. The fire ring outside sat useless, filled with soggy ash and water. I’d been in worse situations. Much worse.
I was remembering something that had happened in Ranger School.
We’d finished a patrol in similar weather conditions.
As tough as the school was, the instructors weren’t stupid.
We were in the middle of the woods, soaking wet, and the temperature was falling.
Years ago, in the Florida phase, a patrol had been in a similar situation.
And it had turned ugly, with several students going hypothermic.
Four had died. Ever since, the RI’s had paid close attention when students were wet and cold.
One of the RI’s had quickly taken charge and, most importantly, action.
I’d learned a big life lesson that day. When you’re miserable, don’t just wallow in it. Take action.
“Anyone try to start a fire?” I asked.
Several people laughed bitterly.
“With what?” The woman gestured outside. “Everything's soaked. Wood, kindling, everything. We tried for an hour. Gave up.”
“I tried,” Louis said, sitting up in his bag. “But nothing would catch.”
“It’s impossible,” someone else confirmed. “The inside of the fire ring is full of water.”
I looked at Maggs, who looked back at me with an expression that clearly said, “Please do something about this.”
“Yeah, okay.” I stood up and zipped up my rain jacket to head outside.
“Waste of time,” an older guy said. “Just got to suck it up until tomorrow. You young people are soft.”
Mister ‘you young people are soft’ was also in his bag.
I grabbed my headlamp and headed back out into the rain. Behind me, I heard someone mutter, “This should be entertaining.”