Chapter 50
It was late, approaching midnight I guessed. I was tired, hungry, hurting, filthy, and desperate. My time in the valley, my escape, and the run through the forest had reduced me to this.
I had expected to find help long before this. After escaping the valley, I had run from the fence toward Jake Monroe’s cabin. I got lost. It took me a long time to find it. That was time I did not have to spare. I had only been there once before. It had been near dark, and Jake was leading the way. I felt relief at finally sighting it nestled in its clearing, surrounded by a dense growth of pine trees. It was a safe haven. Jake might not provide shelter, but he probably would provide me transportation to a safe place, or at least give me supplies and a weapon to get there myself.
But Jake wasn’t there. His truck was gone. The cabin was unlocked, but there was nothing there to help me. No phone, no Internet connection, no weapons. He had cut himself off from the world in his attempt to escape his Vietnam nightmares. He probably kept his weapons in the truck. He would want them close at hand just in case the nightmares became real again.
I couldn’t risk waiting for him to return. Gates’ troops were certainly out looking for me. If I could find my way here, so could they, by following my trail. I had to stay on the move. I continued my run.
As the sun faded away for the day, I struggled to find my way through the tangled forest. Then it was dark, and I had no guide to keep me on an eastward course. Finally the moon appeared. I could use that to continue going in a straight line. When the moon went behind passing clouds, I became disoriented. Without that beacon of light, I unknowingly wandered randomly. Each time the moon reappeared, I realized my direction was wrong and had to get back on course.
Time was my enemy as much as Gates’ men in pursuit of me. All this random walking was making it easier for them to catch up to me. And it might bring me directly into their path. So to make up for those times of being totally lost, I ran whenever the moon was visible. Running in the dark to escape my followers, just like Jake’s running man. Might I run right off a cliff and die? Maybe. But capture meant death, so I ran anyway. I had to get far away quickly.
My destination was Willow Run. I had to find help there since I didn’t have the strength to get to anything farther away. I wasn’t even sure where the next nearest town was. North? South? West? I guessed that it was probably 20 miles or more over the rough terrain of the forest. Even getting to Willow Run was proving much more difficult than I imagined. I couldn’t use the roads. Gates’ troops, Deputy Powell, and Sheriff Tyler would surely be looking for me there.
I had to get help, for the sake of the captive Afghans and me. Those prisoners had entrusted their futures to me. They gave me the key to the shackles, a key that they had so tirelessly fashioned. And they provided the distraction I needed to go over the fence. I owed them.
But where should I go in Willow Run? I was a wanted man. Everyone might be out gunning for me.
I could go to Andrew Pine, but I didn’t know where he lived. I would have to wait until he appeared for work at the National Forest entrance in the morning. The ranger station was too far away. And daylight was too many hours away.
Could I go to Allison? I didn’t think that was a good idea, not if she thought I was a killer, the man who killed her brother.
I had met other people here. There was Janice the waitress, the motel desk clerk, the guy at the convenience store. But I did not know them well enough to put my life in their hands. And even if I did roll the dice by trusting them, just like Ranger Pine, I didn’t know where they lived. I would have to wait until morning and meet them where they work. I didn’t have that much time. I could feel the noose tightening. And even though I had not seen any of my pursuers, my skin tingled with the sense that they were close.
Yes, Willow Run was a land mine of problems for me. But here I was finally just outside of town, looking down Main Street. Everything was closed and dark. Walking down the street was too risky. So I jumped down a slippery bank and walked through the creek. It was the long way around, but it seemed the best chance to avoid being seen. The rocks were wet and slippery, and I fell several times as I fumbled in the dark trying to find firm footing. Many of the rocks were smoothed by millennia of rushing water. But even smooth rocks are hard, leaving me with new bruises. On the positive side, I didn’t lack for something to drink, and some of the grime and dried blood from my imprisonment and escape washed away.
When I judged I’d gone far enough, I peered over the shallow bank of the creek. I saw several houses in the dim light of the moon. In one, there was a light on in a lower level window. There was a seated figure on the back porch. I crept silently up toward the house, using a line of bushes as a shield. I stopped periodically to see if anyone else was around. All seemed quiet. No one seemed to be laying in wait for me. Within a couple of minutes, I reached the side of the porch undetected. I crouched down below the railing.
“Allison,” I said softly.
I was drawn to her. While we had known each other for only a short time, I had felt a strong connection. It was a bond that I had not felt with another person for a very long time. We were entangled, at least in my limited view of the world of relationships. So I put all my trust in this connection. I hoped my trust was well placed.
She turned toward my voice, swiveling in the porch swing. She wore blue jeans and a white short-sleeved shirt. Even in the near darkness, the contrast of her flaming red hair against the shirt was a glowing beacon in the night. It was the most beautiful image I could imagine.
“What? Nathan?” she croaked in surprise.
I feared that she would hate me. And why not? The world seemed to think I was a killer. If Allison believed that, then there would be no place in her life for me. But when she just spoke my name, I didn’t hear the hatred I had feared might be there.
Even though she probably couldn’t see me clearly, I smiled weakly. I gazed in her direction and nodded. “Yes, I’m here.” I got up, walked around the outside of the railing and up the five steps onto the porch. She rose from her seat and came swiftly toward me. I had dreamed of our reunion being this perfect, with her falling into my embrace. I put out my arms to catch her, to surround her. I longed for the tenderness of her touch.
Her fist came out of the darkness and struck me hard across the jaw. As I stood there stunned, she kicked me in the groin, doubling me over. Then she planted a foot against my shoulder and launched me off the porch onto the concrete pad below.
I landed on my back with a solid thud. My head didn’t hit the concrete only because I was still doubled over in a curled position from the kick in the groin. Through the pain and my blurred vision, I propped myself up on my elbows to gaze at her. I could see the rage in her face. Creases formed between her eyebrows and her face was contorted as she snarled like a rabid dog.
She glared at me and yelled, “You bastard!”
“What?” That was the only defense I could muster through my pain.
“You killed him. You bastard,” she repeated. Then she broke into sobs, plopping onto the porch floor, and pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.
In my pain, lying there on the ground, I started to protest. But I stopped. I had drawn people from Willow Run into my wake, and people had died. She must feel betrayed. She had every right to hate me.
I got into a seated position on the concrete but still was in too much pain to stand up. “Allison, I didn’t kill anyone.” Then I considered that my statement was not entirely accurate. I had killed the guard in the forest. But he didn’t count.
“Liar!” she screamed through her tears. “You killed Enid and shot Jeff. Everyone is looking for you. I hope they find you and shoot you.”
I was stunned by what she said. Both Enid and Jeff had been shot. That possibility hadn’t even entered my thinking. Enid being dead didn’t both
er me. He deserved what he got. But Jeff being alive was unexpected good news. He must have put up a mighty fight with Enid, getting wounded in the process. He must have been so seriously wounded, though, that he could not tell the story about the ambush. He could not alert the world to the evil occurring in Spring Valley. So in spite of Jeff being alive, now I was concerned that the situation was still not good.
She drew in a deep breath to continue her outpouring of emotion. “Why did you come back? To torment me? Just go away.” Then she broke down into tears again, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.
Her shouts of rage at me were going to wake the neighborhood. It was late, and everyone was probably long ago in bed. A dog next door started to growl and bark, but no lights came on in the adjacent houses.
I stood up with effort, still in pain from her attack. “Allison. Is Jeff OK?”
Her sobs had quieted to weak whimpers, but it seemed the pain in her heart was still there. And her hatred of me was probably growing.
“What do you care?” she snarled. “You shot him. He almost died. He’s still in the hospital.”
“Allison. I didn’t shoot anyone. Please hear me out.”
I awkwardly got up, walked toward the house, and painfully sat on one of the steps leading up to the porch. I reached out to touch her arm, but she waved her arms wildly to slap my hand away. That’s when she finally really looked closely at me and must have noticed my filthy condition. Even in the dim light from the kitchen bulb, I must have been a strange sight. I was dirty, unshaven, bloodied, wet from falling in the creek, and covered with cuts and contusions. I probably didn’t smell all that appealing either after so long without a bath. Her eyes went wide.
“What happened to you?” In spite of her apparent disgust with me, there was a hint of concern in her voice. I even imagined there might be a touch of doubt about what she thought she knew about my involvement in the shootings.
“Allison, whatever you heard or may think of me, please believe that I did not shoot anyone.” When she didn’t protest, I continued. “Please let me tell you what happened.”
She got up abruptly from the porch floor and plopped back down in the swing. She crossed her arms across her stomach and scowled at me. She was still fuming inside. But she was silent, waiting for me to plead my case. I didn’t feel I could take the liberty of sitting next to her in the swing, so I took the empty chair, leaning forward to speak softly.
I told her about meeting with Jeff, driving toward the Sheriff’s cabin with the evidence, the ambush, and my imprisonment in the valley by the AWOL soldiers. I told her I didn’t know what happened in the ambush, just that I heard gunshots and was knocked unconscious. I left out a lot of the story. There was no time to go into all the details. I needed an ally in this town. I needed an ally quickly before Gates’ troops found me. I needed a phone. Allison was my best hope.
But I had a concern. I might have inadvertently led Gates to Allison’s door. Certainly they would get around to coming here, if they hadn’t already. I just needed to win Allison’s trust enough that she could help me stop this now.
Allison listened without interrupting. She clearly was not ready to accept my story. It was all too unbelievable. But she didn’t reject it either. She was quiet. Everything she heard was probably swirling in her head, and she was trying to make it all fall into place. Surely it had to be the most bizarre story she’d ever heard. There were hints of recognition in her eyes as she listened. A lot of what I said was in those Internet searches. She had seen the print outs of those items when she handed them to me after each of my visits to the library. Those had to be giving her pause. She simply had to believe in me or I wouldn’t survive this day.
“Allison. I need to use your phone to call for help. Even though I didn’t shoot or kill anyone, I will turn myself in. Let the chips fall where they may. But please let me use your phone.”
Her eyes were fixed on me. They no longer glared at me. Instead, they probed me for understanding.
“They told me that you got angry at Enid and Jeff. It was an argument over me. You were tired of them interfering with us. They said you grabbed Jeff’s gun and shot both of them.” She choked for a few seconds. “Then you just drove off in your car. You left them by the side of the road.” Tears welled up in her eyes again before she regained her composure. “Your car was found south of Butte at a rest area. It was out of gas. The gun was in the back. They said your fingerprints were on it.”
I had been set up, just as Gates boasted. A crime of passion. They were looking for me far from here. All the police in the area were probably down there searching. That drew attention away from the activity in the valley.
“Allison, you said they told you all these things. Who are they?”
She looked down at her hands, seeming afraid or maybe ashamed to say the words. “The Sheriff and Jeff.”