"But you—grabbed me!" she looked happy that she'd come up with a offense.
"And I didn't hurt you. You took a swing at me with that plate." Grabbing up his gear, he dismantled his tent in record time. "Keep his feet up. Cover him and keep him breathing in the bag." He gave Bob a last check, took the gun, and left. He could hear the ranger's helicopter already.
He jogged away from camp, taking a lesser used trail. It was all but abandoned and he saw why. It was the most difficult terrain in the park. Unsure of his footing, he slowed down. Eventually, he found a small cave, ducking inside as the rain came down once more.
Chilled and damp, he built a small fire. The cave was shallow and deserted, so he wasn't concerned about a resident. The weather like it was, he wasn't too worried about pursuit, either. But after the rain, that was another matter. He wished he could count on Bob and Louella not to talk. Unfortunately, he had a feeling the country couple still hoped to get the reward.
"They'll squawk to anyone who'll listen." But would they be believed? He could only hope not.
Settling down for the night, he decided to stay in his cave for a day or two. The rain would eliminate his scent, and the marks of his passing. He hadn't used his name on the phone. Instead of slowing down, his mind went into overdrive. Had he touched anything? Could they lift prints off Bob? Unless they were equipped like CSI, probably not. The same with Louella. The tin pan? Closing his eyes, he tried to visualize it. No. Only the gun, but he'd taken it.
"Armed and dangerous now," he muttered. He toyed with disposing of the weapon, but it could be found—maybe—possibly. He might need it for protection. He was an expert shot. He rejected that idea immediately. Bad things happened when guns came into play. Better to unload it and—what? He couldn't decide.
Eventually, Anton fell into an uneasy sleep. His dreams were wild, with unseen entities pursuing him. Didn't take a genius to figure out why. The storm increased during the night, but he slept through it. Bad weather meant he was safe. Good weather wasn't his friend.
The cave had an eastern exposure. The first rays of the sun peeped through the trees, piercing his eyes. Blinking hard, he rolled over and tried to sleep some more. Unable to find a comfortable position, he got up. He allowed himself another small fire for a hot meal. Since it was chilly after the rain, he dug out his jacket and cap. Though he'd decided to stay another night, he felt anxious to leave. He was relatively safe where he was, but if they actively searched for him, he might be found.
He packed his gear without consciously making the decision. Once he was ready, he did his best to conceal his presence He was lucky there was a heavy layer of pine straw on the ground. It would cover his tracks, provided they didn't bring in a dog. The cool air misted around him and signs of impending rain filled the sky. The clouds made him smile. Adjusting his pack on his shoulders, he set off at an easy, ground chomping pace.
His feet took him back to the parking lot by a different route. He'd tell them he'd gotten lost and turned around in the storm. It was a plausible story. That settled, he headed back to civilization, his waterproof poncho covering him. A heavy shower forced him to shelter under a rocky overhang. It was lunchtime anyway, so he ate while he waited for it to pass.
By dusk, he was at the edge of the parking lot. There were half a dozen ranger vehicles and a deputy's car. The ranger he'd spoken to, saw him and rushed over.
"Don, hey! Glad you're back okay. We went looking for you."
"What? Why?"
"There's a criminal on the loose. These damn fool campers tried to corner him at Far Trek, and he escaped."
"No kidding! Shit! I missed all the excitement. Was anyone hurt?"
"Not really. the husband had a mini-stroke, but he's okay. The wife is hysterical. Said they recognized him from Franklin Wal-Mart."
"No shit."
"In fact, she was real sure it was you."
"Me? What?"
"I told them they were crazy, but Deputy Fuller still needs to talk to you."
"Seriously? I'm cold, wet, tired. I just wanna scotch and a hot fire."
"You were headed to Far Trek."
"Yeah, but I got turned around in the rain. Only by sheer luck, I found a trail. Thank God for my compass!"
"Should have called on your fancy satellite phone," the ranger reprimanded.
"Yeah. Well...." Anton did his best to look embarrassed. "Truth is, I took a spill, and it got damaged. What's your name?"
"Leo Bolger."
"Honestly, Leo, I'm so cold, I can hardly feel my nuts. Is there somewhere I can warm up?"
"Yeah, sure."
Anton hadn't lied about being cold and wanting a drink. They settled in a sitting area in the ranger station.
"I can't do a thing about the scotch, but I can do coffee or hot chocolate. My wife makes her own mix, and keeps us supplied," he offered with a smile.
"Talked me into it." It did sound good. Anton kept his gloves on, saying he was still feeling cold. When he'd finished, he washed his own cup, wiping it dry before using the towel to set it on the drying rack.
©2021 Dellani Oakes
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