Far Country Read online

  Chuck nodded. “I’m hoping he just forgot to sign in.”

  “I can save you the trip, I think. Campsite 42?”

  Chuck nodded in confirmation. Steve swore softly as he reached for the mike to call in the rest of the staff. “This could be a long night,” he sighed.

  It was. After thoroughly checking each campsite to make certain the man hadn’t merely made a friend and returned to a different camp (it had happened before) they called for the dog rescue team, which got to the park after 11:00. The dogs swiftly picked up the scent and the handlers were hard put to keep up with them on the dark trails.

  “I don’t get it,” Chuck huffed to Steve, pausing for breath as they jogged up the trail after the dogs. “Why was he climbing alone? That’s stupid.”

  “Maybe… you can ask him… when we find him,” Steve replied, between gulps of air.

  Chuck snorted in derision. “Fat chance of that – most likely he’s a pancake at the bottom of some cliff he didn’t even registered to be on,” he answered heatedly. “No one else on Indian Face recalls seeing him. I’m bettin’ he took off to one of the side trails instead of stickin’ to what he put on the form. He’s gotta be stupid to not respect the sport like that!”

  Steve stretched and spoke to Chuck hesitantly. "Do you think he might be a suicide?" He asked uneasily.

  Again, Chuck made a derisive laugh. “I can think of a lot better ways to kill myself!” He said. “Some pills in a nice warm motel room for one..” He paused and seemed to think for a moment. “Of course, if he had to watch that chick flick Jill made me sit through last week, he could have saved money on the pills and just died of boredom!” He told Steve in an aggrieved tone of voice.

  Steve almost smiled for a moment, despite the seriousness of their mission. The female ranger’s attempts to domesticate Chuck were an ongoing source of amusement for his co-workers. Chuck was handsome – his blonde curly hair, piercing blue eyes and a surfer’s tan that made him look like he had just spent the day at the beach, always caused a flurry among the feminine employees. He’d made it a point not to date any of them, but Jill, an equally handsome girl from southern Georgia, had managed to get the head ranger to break his own rule. The result had been several months of an on again/off again relationship, and everyone at Hanging Rock had their own thoughts on who would win the war.

  Still, the thought of the young man possibly committing suicide was too close to Steve’s own past. He couldn’t let it go. “You know, not everyone thinks they deserve to die safely in a bed…” he said softly.

  Chuck, usually oblivious to other’s emotions, paused and studied Steve in the bright moonlight. “Suicide’s for cowards,” he said quietly. No matter what’s happened in his life, he should think a bit about those who’ve got to come clean up after him, and the family who’ve still got to live with the memory of the mess he left. Besides,” he said, turning away from Steve and starting back up the trail. “Seems to me there’s more punishment in living with whatever he’d wanted to kill himself over, than in skipping out on life.”

  Steve winced at Chuck’s words. He took a deep breath and said nothing, silently following the head ranger along the trail. He’d teetered on that brink for a long time after the accident. As far as he was concerned, the only reason that he still lived was because Sarah was not yet dead; but Chuck couldn’t know that – no one at Hanging Rock knew about that.

  They were jogging up Moore’s Wall Loop. The trail followed a gully wash and was uneven with many loose rocks. Not to mention tree roots. We'll be lucky not to twist an ankle and need rescuing ourselves, Steve thought grimly.

  They climbed silently for a time, listening for the steady barks and yips of the dogs, as they followed the scent up the trail toward the summit. They were nearing the wall that climbers at the park were supposed to use, but there was no guarantee that the man was there, or had even stuck to the trail. He could be sitting three feet off the trail and they would pass him by in the dark. If he had wandered off the trail, the rangers were counting on the dogs to find him.

  Suddenly both men stopped, listening intently. Something had changed. The dogs sounded more excited. Chuck’s radio crackled to life. “I think we found your guy.”

  Chuck gasped in a lungful of air and asked, “Can you see him? Is he alive?”

  There was a pause, then the handler came back on. “I doubt it. He doesn’t appear to be moving...he’s at the bottom of this rock face. We turned off the main trail after marker 43."

  “Yeah,” Chuck replied glumly, giving Steve an ‘I told you so’ look. “I know where you are. We’re coming up on it.” They reached the side trail in another minute and skittered down the foot path. The dogs were milling in circles at the top of the wall. One of the handlers directed his flashlight beam almost straight down. “No ropes. Either the guy was free climbing, or it was suicide.”

  Chuck swore in disgust as he tied off and prepared to rappel down to the victim. He took any loss of life in the park personally. “Another idiot bites the dust,” he muttered gloomily. He tested the rope, then leaned back and pushed off, landing smoothly. Steve followed with the first aid kit, already feeling depressed at the sight of the crumpled body.

  Chuck waited for Steve to unhook from the line before he approached the victim. Steve held the flashlight as Chuck gently rolled the man to his back. A weak moan from the corpse made them both jump. Chuck grabbed for his radio. “Dude! This guy is still alive! Send down the litter and call for a chopper. We’ll have to airlift him from the knob, if they can do it!”

  Steve and Chuck worked quickly to stabilize the young man and loaded him on the litter. Two other rangers had arrived since Chuck and Steve had gone over the side, and they helped the two men as they painstakingly guided the litter up the 75 foot wall. Then the four rangers hoisted the litter onto their shoulders and began the grueling trek to the top of the trail.

  At last, exhausted and sweating in the cool predawn air, they reached the summit ten minutes ahead of the helicopter. Carefully they arranged their flashlights to outline a fairly even section of the bare rock that made up much of Moore’s Knob. The helicopter arrived and managed to land on their improvised site without a hitch. They loaded the man quickly, and after briefly speaking with the medical team, Steve and Chuck stepped back and away from the whirling blades. The wind beat against them as the bird lifted off into the night and a minute later, the group was left standing in the eerie silence that followed the helicopter’s departure.

  Steve took a sip out of his water bottle, and turned toward the peak a few hundred yards away. Chuck called after him. “Aren’t you coming back down?”

  Steve kept walking up the slope. He could make out the black outline of the observation tower against the fading night sky.

  “No point in trying to go back down before daylight," he called back over his shoulder. "Figured I might as well enjoy the sunrise since I’m up here.”

  Chuck laughed and looked at the others questioningly. They shrugged.

  “He has a point,” one of them said. “Why take a chance on twisting an ankle in the dark now?.”

  Wearily, they followed Steve, climbed the steps of the tower, and stood quietly, looking toward the eastern sky.

  They didn’t have long to wait. Almost imperceptibly, the hills behind the lake flushed pink and gold. The men watched in silence at first, then Pete, a burly young ranger who had lived in the shadow of the Saurotown Mountains his whole life, began to sing softly. Normally, Steve, the loner, would have resented the intrusion, but somehow it seemed to fit, even if it was one of those hokey Christian songs.

  I love you, Lord. And I lift my voice

  To worship You, Oh my soul, rejoice

  Take joy my king, in what you hear

  May it be a sweet, sweet sound, in Your ear

  Steve had rejected God long ago, but if there had been a God, then the incredibly haunting majesty of that sunrise would have been a moment of worship. Steve even envied
Pete that absolute certainty in the existence of a Supreme Being. He supposed that if he had been raised in these hills, and had never had to bear the reality of Sarah’s ‘life’, he too could have believed in God. Pete had always led a life protected by the permanence of these mountains. He had not prayed desperately for a miracle and learned that only the empty night sky heard prayers. Steve supposed that those despairing cries were still drifting in the void of unknowing and uncaring space.

  Pete was quiet again. Steve realized he was holding his breath, as if waiting for something to follow the rising of the sun. Almost in a dream state, he looked around the summit. No wind stirred the scrubby pines. Nothing moved. And yet…

  Abruptly, the radio crackled to life from Chuck’s hip. The mood fled and the men were suddenly aware that they were still standing in the tower. Chuck reached for the radio and checked in with the park headquarters. “Come on, y’all,” he chided. “Let’s get moving. Some of us still have to work today.”

  Ch 3

  Deborah

  Saturday found Steve on duty at the lake. It was a good thing that events like last night were few and far between! He reflected as he fought to control yet another yawn. Wearily he strolled along the pavilion, trying to ignore the rivulets of sweat that trickled from his collar and down his back. The sky was a merciless blue expanse. Steve nodded to a group of sun worshipers and half wished he could dive off of the lifeguard’s platform into the icy lake water. Surely that would shake him out of this sleep deprived lethargy! Instead, he climbed the steps of the pavilion to the 2nd level snack bar and bought a bottle of water.

  “Thanks,” he said, smiling absently at the sandy haired ranger working behind the counter.

  She didn’t smile back. “My name’s Deborah,” she stated a little loudly.

  Startled by her tone, Steve turned back to look at the young woman. He recalled that she had just started work here a couple of weeks ago, fresh out of college. She had been assigned lake duty and the Visitor’s Center information desk - both mind numbing jobs, in his opinion. He felt a small burst of sympathy. It was probably not the work she had expected to be doing when she first came here. He remembered how much he had chafed to escape the monotony of desk work his first year. But he had survived it, and by the look of her…Steve REALLY looked at her for the first time.

  Reddish brown hair with a natural curl, fixed in an easy, non-fussy style. Not overly tall, but a sturdy body, trim and well muscled. A smattering of freckles and wide-set green eyes....a memory flickered.

  “Deborah?” He asked in a tentative voice. “From…”

  “High school,” she finished the sentence for him, smiling at last. “I was wondering if you would ever remember me!”

  “Sorry, I guess I just never really looked at you.” Steve actually blushed shamefacedly at the admission, and raced to fix it.

  “I mean, how could I ever forget doing Oklahoma! with you in high school?” He said quickly. “That was the longest twelve weeks of my life!”

  Deborah’s smile froze slightly. She looked wounded. “Gee, thanks a lot,” she said stiffly.

  Steve realized he had blundered again. “No! Not being in the play with you – you were great!” He stuttered, feeling like an idiot. “But I didn’t want to be in the play in the first place!” He sighed and started over again. “Sarah made me try out,” he explained. “She had this idea that we would both get the lead roles, but when I got Curly, and YOU got Laurie…” Steve shuddered. “Well, as I said, it was the longest twelve weeks of my life,” he finished with a martyred smile.

  Deborah’s green eyes widened. “I never knew Sarah was upset about that!” She said seriously. “She made such a great Ado Annie, and she was always nice to me!”

  Steve grimaced. “I guess you never looked in her direction while we were singing “People Will Say We’re in Love!”

  “I guess not,” she agreed, giggling a little at the look on Steve’s face. “I was too nervous! There I was, playing opposite one of the best looking guys in the senior class...” she laughed. “No wonder you’d hardly even look at me! And all the time I was convinced you thought I was homely, or that you were too stuck up to speak to a mere sophomore.”

  Steve smiled, his blue eyes softening at the memory. “No, you were never homely,” he assured her, “and that was part of the problem! I didn’t dare be too friendly with you, because Sarah watched us like a hawk! After practice I had to listen to her: ‘Why did Deborah get the part? I’m as good an actress. I’m just as pretty; don’t you think I’m just as pretty, Steve?’” Steve shook his head glumly. “No matter what I said, I landed in hot water.”

  Deborah laughed sympathetically. “She was a good actress, and she just about stole the show with her Ado Annie! Seems to me you had more cause to be jealous, the way she carried on with that peddler and cowboy. Between the ‘Paris Good-bye” and the ‘Oklahoma Hello’, she hardly had time to come up for air!”

  Steve shrugged and shook his head sadly. “Strangely, she never saw it that way. But I had my way of pacifying her,” he added with a fond smile.

  Deborah grinned mischievously. “Uh-huh. It’s amazing to me the two of you didn’t set that haystack on fire!”

  Steve looked so startled that Deborah laughed outright. “Oh please don’t tell me you didn’t realize the whole cast knew where you two spent all your time between scenes!”

  “I guess it never really occurred to me…” Steve looked distinctly uncomfortable.

  “Some kids even helped cover so Mrs. Richardson wouldn’t catch you!” Deborah’s grin softened into a smile. “It was okay, though. Everyone knew how in love the two of you were. You were almost a storybook couple.” They were silent a moment, smiling at each other and their shared memories.

  Finally Deborah said softly, “I’m so sorry about what happened – the accident and all. I always wanted to tell you that I’ve been praying for both of you, but I never saw you after the graduation to say good bye.”

  Steve’s bemused smile faded abruptly. It was almost as if he could hear the screeching tires and Sarah’s final terrified scream, feel her clutch his arm as his car careened off the road and began to roll…

  He stepped back from the counter. “Thanks,” he replied stiffly.

  Deborah saw the abrupt change in his face, and the softness that had been in his eyes only a moment before disappeared. A guarded, almost impersonal expression replaced the easy smile that she remembered so well from their high school days. She stepped back from the counter as well. Clearly he had not moved on.

  “So, I’ll see you around then,” she said a little confused by the sudden change in his demeanor.

  “Yeah,” Steve said vaguely. “It was – good – to see you again,” he managed to say before he hurried out of the bath house. He found a quiet corner out of sight and leaned against the wall, once again finding himself thrown back to that horrible night…what had she said? She had been praying for him? A fat lot of good that had done, he thought bitterly.

  Prayer…Steve recalled the minister who had met him at the hospital. He had been called by one of the paramedics, Steve recalled. The man had tried to counsel him throughout the long summer. He had sat with Steve in silence, never forcing him to speak, and he had held him when he cried. Steve recalled he had even attempted to intercede for him with Sarah’s family when they refused to let him near her room in the hospital. He remembered their many conversations about trusting God, giving the pain to God, letting God work, but Reverend Graham could never tell him the one thing he wanted – NEEDED to know – WHY?

  Eventually that hellish summer had ended. Even though he needed a cane to walk, and his forearm was still in a splint from two operations to repair the shattered bone, Steve had escaped Jacksonville for college. Western Carolina, deep in the mountains, had been the perfect place to hide. Unexpectedly, the mountains soon captured his heart. Nowhere else did he find such a sense of peace. After the second year at Western, except for brief visi
ts at Christmas, he quit going back to Jacksonville altogether. He had only been home once since his father’s sudden death two years ago… He shuddered at that memory. Even during the funeral he had heard the whispers. How he hated going back to that town!

  Pastor Graham had tried to call once or twice, and had even continued to drop him a Christmas card each year throughout college, but Steve had made no effort to reply. All he wanted to do was to block out anyone who was in any way connected to his senior year. He just wanted to forget!

  Steve took a couple of deep breaths and slowly felt his self-control return. He walked back to the grassy beach that bordered the lake, forcing himself to nod pleasantly to several of the tourists, and then walked down the path that led to the boathouse. It was shady there, and Steve leaned against one of the posts as he sipped the rest of his water. He tossed the plastic bottle into a recycling bin and resumed his patrol back to the beach and up to the parking lot, brooding over his encounter with Deborah.

  Steve hated how simply seeing Deborah had stirred up memories he had spent years trying to put behind him. Those last few weeks of high school and the nightmare that followed graduation swirled around in his head, refusing to be locked away again in the far reaches of his memory. The guilt of broken lives and destroyed futures – all his fault – bore down on his mind until the pain was almost physical.

  And Deborah…as a sophomore, those green eyes and the red-gold hair had given her a distinctive prettiness that promised real beauty as she matured. Even in her ranger uniform with no makeup, Deborah was arresting to look at. Steve knew that she had had a bit of a crush on him that year, and he, well, there had never really been anyone for him but Sarah, but there was enough of a spark between them that Sarah had felt threatened no matter how he had tried to reassure her.