Relatively Dead (32 page)

I saw light through the trees above me. I must be approaching a ridge. Since I wasn’t familiar with the trail, this didn’t tell me much. I knew we were still over two miles from the top of Mt. San Jacinto. My breath was coming in gasps. I didn’t know how long I could continue this pace, but I was maintaining my lead over Jason.

My mouth was dry. Jason had said it was okay to eat the snow. I scooped up a handful and bit off a chunk, letting it melt in my mouth before I swallowed it. It tasted good. All it needed was some cherry flavoring and it would be a snow cone.

The mountain opened up in front of me and I had a view to the horizon. A smaller peak loomed across a valley. When I spotted a fire tower on top of it I knew it was Tahquitz Peak, the mountain Jason and I climbed from Idyllwild. Idyllwild was in the valley below. I was now oriented.

I saw signs and a trail junction. One way led to the peak of Mt. San Jacinto. That was a dead-end. The other trail led downhill toward Idyllwild. Idyllwild meant people and assistance. It was three miles to Saddle Junction, between Mt. San Jacinto and Tahquitz peak, and five and a half miles to Humber Park in Idyllwild, but it was all downhill.

I hesitated. The tram was still closer than Idyllwild. Could I take a chance and get past Jason? I saw him coming through the trees. If I tried to go around him he’d see me. Without another thought I plunged down the trail toward Idyllwild. It started downhill quite steeply. I followed it, sliding some on the snow, feeling a strange exhilaration.

Then I saw the roofs of Idyllwild cabins way below me. They were a
long
way down. A quick calculation told me that in fact they were over 3,000 feet below me. I had to keep my head until I could reach them. I slowed my breakneck pace. I couldn’t risk an injury.

Jason wasn’t currently in sight above me, but he would have no trouble following my tracks because there were no other footprints on this trail. Nobody had been on it since the last snowfall. I wasn’t going to shake him. I continued downward, having to look carefully to make sure I was still on the trail. The even snow cover created a pristine beauty, but at a price, since it tended to make everything that wasn’t a tree or a rock look like part of the trail.

After thirty minutes of steady descent, I knew I was off the trail. The going was no longer easy. I found myself climbing over rocks and dodging trees and their roots. This slowed me down considerably. I had no idea how to get back on the trail, and if I tried to retrace my steps I knew I would run into Jason, even though I still couldn’t see him.

CHAPTER 34

I wasn’t lost in the sense of not knowing where to go. If I continued downward I would get to the saddle between Mt. San Jacinto and Tahquitz Peak, and I would meet the trail that went down to Idyllwild. I could do it if I were careful. The problem was I had to go slowly, which made me a sitting duck for Jason.

I looked up the mountain, trying to spot him. Everything was still. I hadn’t seen him since I’d started down the trail from the junction. Had he gone back to the tram, figuring he could drive to Idyllwild faster than I could hike there and then cut me off?

I hoped so. I’d much rather have him at a distance, even if temporary, than right behind me. I looked up the mountain again and saw him above me. He was much closer than I’d thought he’d be. I’d been going too slowly because I was off the trail. That threw a scare into me.

I couldn’t tell whether he saw me. However, he was coming steadily downward, and apparently was on the trail. He would see my footsteps leave the trail, and he could easily follow me. I was on a suicide mission. Sooner or later I would become boxed in by rocks or a cliff and have to retrace my steps.

I crossed a bare patch without snow on it. I didn’t leave footprints until I reached the snow on the other side. Unfortunately, the gap was too short to throw Jason off. However, the bare spots were becoming more frequent because of the lower altitude. When I came to an extended stretch without snow that went along the contour line, meaning it was relatively level, I knew what I had to do.

I looked up the mountain. Jason was hidden by trees, so he couldn’t see me at the moment. I followed the snowless ground, staying on a level instead of descending. I was looking for a place to hide, but not too close to where my footprints ended. I ducked in and out of the trees, so when Jason came to the bare patch he shouldn’t be able to see me. I must have gone a hundred yards when I found some underbrush surrounded by the ubiquitous pine trees.

I grabbed a piece of a branch lying on the ground to use as a weapon and crawled into the brush. I picked a spot where I could look out between branches toward where I had been, without, hopefully, being seen. When I stopped moving I noticed how hard my heart was pounding, more from fear, I thought, than exertion.

In no more than five minutes I saw a movement through the trees, and then the figure of Jason emerged. He stopped where my footprints ended and did a 360, looking in all directions. What would he do now? He looked in my direction. A knife went through me, but I told myself that as long as I didn’t move he wouldn’t be able to see me.

When he started walking in my direction, I wasn’t so sure. I gripped my stick, determined not to go easily. It was hard not to run, but it was better to remain still, to be part of the forest. The earth tones of my garments were in my favor, providing a sort of camouflage. I’d blended in with my background when Jason first came along the trail from the tram. I could do it again.

I was afraid he could hear me breathe, but the sighing of a soft breeze easily covered that. At least, that’s what I tried to convince myself. Besides, he was still thirty yards away. He stopped and stood for a while, still looking around. Then he went back to the end of my footprints.

After what seemed like hours but couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes, he crossed the bare patch and started down the mountain. He was soon out of sight. He was ahead of me, whether he realized it or not.

What should I do? As soon as I was sure he wasn’t coming back, I took off my right shoe, the one I’d lost before, and peeled off my wet sock, although it stuck to my foot and didn’t come easily.

I wrung as much water out of the sock as I could and briskly rubbed my foot to bring feeling back to it. The temperature wasn’t that cold; I wasn’t going to get frostbite or anything like that. At least while the sun was shining. I carefully put on my sock and shoe and considered my choices.

Now that Jason was below me, I could go back up the mountain to the trail junction and then go back to the tram station. I knew immediately that was madness. I was sure I’d descended over a thousand feet from the junction, and I was too exhausted to climb that steep slope, especially without food.

That reminded me. I was ravenously hungry. It was well past noon. I’d eaten an early breakfast and only a snack since then before I lost my pack. I scooped up some snow and melted it in my mouth to attempt to stave off the pangs.

Once Jason was convinced he was ahead of me, he might lie in wait for me at the saddle or someplace in between. That was a danger I’d have to face. I was going to become the tracker. I’d follow
his
footprints. Hopefully, if he laid a trap for me I’d be able to spot it in time.

I came out of my lair, taking my stick with me. I returned to the spot where I’d left the snow and easily found Jason’s footprints on the other side of the bare patch. I started following them, slowly, constantly scanning the ground ahead of me. Jason was nowhere in sight.

In five minutes the footprints led me back to the trail. Jason was a good woodsman. Then the snow disappeared, altogether, except for small mounds that didn’t do me any good for tracking purposes. Or eating purposes, either, because they’d been there for a while and were dirty. I’d lost my water supply.

However, I knew the route Jason was taking. The only question was where he’d set up his ambush. I was approaching the saddle. I could see it through the trees. I could tell where the ground bottomed out and then started up toward Tahquitz Peak. I suspected Jason would wait for me somewhere on the saddle.

I stopped. Why would anyone walk into a death trap on purpose? If I thought my stick would protect me against him, I was a fool. I tried to remember what the saddle looked like. It was relatively flat and open. It wasn’t a good place to set up an ambush. It was much more likely Jason would wait for me on the trail that led from the saddle down to Idyllwild. It wasn’t called the Devils Slide Trail for nothing. It was twisty, and steep in places—much better for hiding.

I approached the saddle carefully. Sure enough, visibility was good. Jason wasn’t there. I came to the trail junction. Several trails branched out from there. One was the trail to Idyllwild. Another was the trail to Tahquitz Peak. After thinking about it for thirty seconds, I took the Tahquitz trail. Now I wouldn’t have to worry about Jason ambushing me.

I remembered this trail as an easy climb of fewer than three miles from the saddle. Tahquitz Peak was almost a thousand feet lower than the trail junction I’d just come from. I could do it without food and water. I hoped the fire watcher was on top because he or she would have a radio.

I quickly realized that was too much to hope for. Fire season hadn’t started yet. However, the key piece of information that emboldened me was that Jason had showed me another trail that went down from the top and connected to a road near Idyllwild. Thanks to his penchant for educating people, I could bypass him altogether.
Thank you, Jason.

***

The fire watcher wasn’t in the tower. I was a little disappointed, but otherwise my plan was working. I sucked on some snow near the peak. It helped alleviate my thirst but not my hunger. I went down the alternate trail from the top of Tahquitz. It was easy going, although my bad ankle was starting to bother me. I limped along slowly but steadily.

Time went by at a crawl as I thought about food and drink and Jason. The snow was gone. The first thing I would have to do when I got to Idyllwild was to report him to the police. The second thing was to get something to eat.

Eventually, I came to the dirt road at the foot of the mountain. I felt relieved. I’d made it up and down Tahquitz without incident. True, I was getting weak from hunger and strenuous hiking, not to mention the stress of keeping out of Jason’s clutches, but help couldn’t be far away. In fact, it might be at hand. A car was parked on the road.

As I approached the back of the car I couldn’t tell whether anybody was inside, because of the tinted glass windows and headrests on the front seats, as well as the position of the sun in my eyes. If not, however, somebody must be nearby. I approached the driver’s side, intending to look in the front window. I noticed the outside mirror was folded against the car.

While I was pondering this, the front door suddenly swung open right in front of me, blocking my way. Before I could move, Jason dove out of the car and tackled me. I landed on my back and screamed. He scrambled up my body, brushing aside my flailing fists and ignoring my ineffective kicks that connected only with air, and sat on my stomach. I tried to scratch his eyes out, but he grabbed my arms and held them.

We looked at each other. There was no point in screaming again. Nobody would hear. And I couldn’t move. He worked to control his breathing.

“This time I didn’t underestimate you. When you didn’t come down the Devils Slide trail, I figured this is what you’d done. You’ve got the Boyd smarts.”

“But I don’t go around killing people.” That didn’t get a rise out of him. “This isn’t your car.”

“My car is at the tram parking lot, as you well know. This is my neighbor’s car. He uses his house as a weekend retreat and sometimes leaves a car here. I watch his place for him. But enough chitchat. I’m sure you want to know what’s going to happen next.”

I was almost too tired to care. Jason was going to tell me, anyway.

“I’m not going to kill you here, because I don’t want to do it in Idyllwild. I’m going to do it someplace far far away.”

How could I stall? “Are you going to give me something to eat and drink?”
“Sorry. I don’t have any food with me. And your pack is in a snowbank, somewhere on the mountain. However, you’ve been a worthy adversary for me. If you promise not to try anything, I’ll give you a drink from my water bottle.”

“I promise.”

We were right beside the car. Jason released my arms and leaned inside to reach the bottle in the holder between the front seats. He brought it out of the car and unscrewed the cap. As he lowered it to place the opening between my lips, his face was close to mine. It was a face I’d learned to hate. I jammed both of my thumbs into his eyes as hard as I could and yelled as I did. Promises given under duress aren’t valid.

Jason jerked his head back and roared like a wounded elephant. I shoved his body over onto its side and scrambled out from under him. His hands covered his eyes and he couldn’t see anything, but he kicked out, blindly, catching me in the crotch area and slamming me against the car. I went down in a heap, but had the presence of mind to roll away from him so he couldn’t do it again.

Jason rolled around on the ground, also, obviously in great pain, his hands still covering his eyes. I hurt like hell, too, but I had to get away from him before he recovered. I forced myself to stand, and I staggered to the open door of the car. The keys were in the ignition. I fell into the seat, started it, and drove away.