“Hold on,” I said, finally coming to a stop after a few stuttering steps.
Opus came back to me, tongue hanging out, and pushed his head against my hip. An Opus hug. I shrugged out of my pack and dropped it on the ground. It was getting light out now, so it had to have been close to early morning. Daybreak wouldn’t be that far behind. I dug into my pack and pulled out the green plastic quart canteen I kept in there. I’d refilled it in Salt Lake City. Tina saw what I was doing and did the same, looking behind me at the direction we’d fled from.
I drank deeply, but cut it off far sooner than I really wanted to. I wanted to avoid cramping or throwing it back up.
I cupped my hand and poured it in slowly. “Opus,” I said, and he came forward and lapped it out of my hand, not paying attention to the splashes of water that hit his face as I kept pouring.
I had a tin pot I could have used but it was packed deep, and this worked fine. The dog had kissed me on the lips, so having his tongue on my fingers didn’t faze me.
“We didn’t leave too many tracks,” Tina said. “At least, from what I can see.”
“Good. Did you recognize the voice?”
“No. You?”
“No.” Suddenly, I remembered. The phones! “Did you get our phones?” I asked her, seeing that she was still in her sleeping outfit she wore when we camped—a pair of sweats.
“No,” she said softly. “I wasn’t getting reception out here, so I left my phone in my jeans when I went to bed.”
“Me too,” I admitted, and sighed. It wasn’t either of our faults. Thinking about holes in our guts had won out over remembering the phones.
“Are we safe to stop for a little while?” she asked, her eyes pleading.
“I think so,” I said. “I haven’t heard anything, but I think whoever it is has a dog.”
“I heard it too,” she said softly, finishing off a water bottle she had pulled from the top of her pack.
She sat down next to me. A little bit of dust puffed up and I noticed that where we were now being rockier than the red stone and sand that had been near our camp. I didn’t say anything as Tina pulled her pack closer and got out the SU-16. I remembered she’d shoved it in there, and I knew it was in the tent, but in the heat of the moment, I hadn’t thought to get it out. She quickly snapped it together and then pulled out one of the two magazines that came with it from the stock, and then a box of shells and loaded it.
I watched in silence. Who was chasing us? Was it the person who’d been sending me creepy messages? I knew I was freaked out, but Tina, the woman who’d bought a guard/attack dog, was the one who seemed like she was completely in control as she expertly put the gun together, loaded it, put it on safe and sat it across both of our backpacks.
“What do you think? Crazy fan?”
“I don’t know. God, I hope not,” I said, fearing it was.
Had I done something online that had pissed somebody off? Was there a lonely housewife out there with a jealous husband? Was this something altogether different?
“It sounded like a man. Deep voice. The dog… I think that’s what woke me up. I heard something howl. Then I think we heard it twice more.”
“I couldn’t tell what kind of dog it was by the sound,” Tina said.
“Sorry, I’m babbling. I counted off twenty rounds fired at us. That kind of has me off my game,” I admitted, hardly handling my fear, amazed that Tina was holding up so strong.
“You know how to handle guns, the same way I do,” Tina said, picking up the SU and offering it to me.
I shook my head no, feeling my breathing slow as my heart rate got back to normal.
“Do you think he’s coming after us?” Tina asked.
“It’d be stupid to disable our van and try to shoot us if he was going to turn around and leave, wouldn’t it?”
“I wonder if it was that drunk from the bar?”
Oh shit. I hadn’t thought of that, but we’d run into him late into our trip, and the shenanigans had started when we’d gotten back from up north after saying our goodbyes to Bud and Annette. I hadn’t thought of it. Wait, was it related?
“God, I don’t know. Listen, we need to get a move on. If he’s still coming, he won’t be too far behind us,” I told her.
“You know what direction we’re going?”
“Sort of,” I told her, and unclipped a brass compass that had been on my backpack forever.
I pulled it off and shook it as I watched the bubble of air inside slosh around. The needle went back to pointing north. Good. I could already feel the air heating up, and soon it was going to be hot. Yesterday we’d missed most of the heat having driven through most of the day, but the weather app on my phone said it had been in the high nineties yesterday to fall into the sixties at night. It wasn’t exactly cold, but it was a big swing from when we went to sleep to when we woke up not too long ago. I clipped the compass back on.
“Tina, we can try going back the way we came. Maybe see if he’s cleared out?”
“I don’t know what the point of that would be. We still have to find somebody and get help. The van’s out of commission.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. I think Opus could help us find our way back, but maybe that’s what he wants?”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Tina said, standing up and putting her pack on, leaving the rifle leaned against mine.
I handed her the gun when she was done and then closed my pack up and put it on. “What are you worried about?”
“For a while, I could hear him back there. He couldn’t run as fast as us in the dark, and I think he tripped a few times. I’m worried he’s going to keep coming because in the daytime, more people are going to be driving down that road. Unless he left already…”
“Yeah,” I said not needing to hear her complete the thought.
With people coming into the park, there would be traffic. We wanted that, but if somebody heard the shots and called the police… It was a double-edged sword. The van, tent, and supplies were back where we’d fled from, but that’s also where he’d started with us, and it sounded like he had a dog…
“The dog is tracking us,” I told her softly. “That’s the only way he could have found us in the dark without using a flashlight. He must have gotten close and realized we were both awake and—”
“Tried to kill us.” Tina shivered despite the temperatures.
“What if we make a loop and come back out on the road we parked on. You know, circle around?” I asked her.
“We’re going to need water. Do you have a map in your big bag of tricks?”
“No, I left them in the van,” I said softly. “But I remember the Colorado River is due east from here. So is the expressway, and there are all kinds of washes that might still have water in it. I can’t say for sure that going that direction can be done in a day because I don’t know how far we’ve gone.”
Opus yawned, and I got the hint.
“He wants us to move,” Tina said.
“Yeah, and anyplace is better than out in the open. We need to find some shade when it starts getting bad, or we’re going to go through what little water we have left in a hurry.”
Tina nodded and, after a moment's hesitation, I knew I had to make the choice. East to the river and stop a passing motorist? Or circle back around toward the van which was disabled - and possibly the guy who’d shot at us. The van did have water though, and somebody out there camping must have heard that full magazine shot off in the middle of the night. People had been camping within a couple miles of our location. Would they have called the police? I had a general idea of the way we’d come, but the red stone of the mountains was still off our right shoulder, and there was greener ahead of us, though it was now more bushes than trees.
“Ok, we’re going to circle around and head back for the van,” I told Tina. “I know I’ve got more water in there and people were camping along the road. Maybe we can run across somebody with a satellite
phone, or a hiker.”
“Okay,” Tina said, and turned to Opus. “Make sure nobody sneaks up on us. Do your super dog growl thing again when they get near.”
Opus chuffed, and we set out at the sound of an excited bark somewhere behind us.
“Crap,” I muttered, and moved forward faster.
20
Rick
We kept alternating jogging and walking for another half an hour without Opus alerting us. Tina and I had been talking about ways dogs can track. Apparently, the so-called tips and tricks about how to lose pursuit against a dog really don’t work. Your body sheds skin cells; dander.
Not only that, but your entire body, clothing and everything gives off a scent. A dog doesn’t have to just sniff the ground, their scent of smell is so much better than ours that most of them could track by air if they knew what they were supposed to do.
Opus had been easily keeping pace and now that we were on the greener side I had hopes that we’d find water soon to refill the water bottles, plus the rock and sand were starting to heat up from the sunlight despite the clouds that had darkened the night so much.
“What do we know about the guy who was breaking into places around our house?” I asked Tina who paused and let me come to a stop next to her.
“Our house now?” she said, and bumped her hip into me, a small grin breaking the scowl she’d had on her face.
“Yeah, well… somebody takes a potshot at you and your soon-to-be wife, you get used to things quickly.”
“Don’t get too used to it,” she said as we walked. “But not that much. Char and I talked mostly about her date with Detective Stephenson.”
“What did she say? I mean about the guy?”
“Fit the description. He’s admitted to looking our place over, but hadn’t broken in.”
“Our place. I like it,” I told her, rubbing her back.
“We’re going to be in the trees briefly,” Tina said quietly. “Hopefully, if my memory is right, the road should be on the other side. We can follow that out—”
Something zipped between us, like a bee on crystal meth with a raging case of diarrhea. The sound of the shot was only a heartbeat behind that.
We both dropped to the ground.
“Opus, get behind some cover,” I screamed, as another shot hit a rock near my right shoulder, sending chunks my way.
“Go,” Tina yelled, then shouted unintelligibly to the dog.
I felt something brush against me, and sand and rock chunks sprayed my prone form. Something was hot and running down the side of my head. I must be sweating worse than I thought, thinking that the bullets whizzing past us weren’t at the firing speed that they’d been fired earlier. Opus had put his head down and was belly crawling to Tina.
These weren’t hurried shots, and were barely missing, which was troubling and it made me feel funny in the pit of my stomach. The adrenaline was once again raging through my system and my ID was screaming fight or flight.
“Let’s leapfrog the bushes for cover, he has to be firing at a distance—”
Another shot went whizzing past, hitting about three feet in front of Tina’s head. She made her move, and I pushed myself to my feet and took off as two more shots came in. I never heard or saw where they hit, but I felt a tug at my pack as I slid to a stop near Tina, knowing something had happened, but my adrenaline and fear had me high as a kite, ready to run.
“Rick, you’ve been shot!” Tina said, crawling toward me.
I wiped the sweat off my temple and came back with a red smear. Apparently, I wasn’t sweating.
“Tis only a flesh wound,” I told her, seeing the fear in her eyes turn slowly to anger. “It was a rock chunk or part of a ricochet. Nothing important was damaged.”
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “You’ve been shot in the head, and that’s nothing important?”
“Less arguing, more running like hell,” I told her, trying to sound more confident than I actually was.
Tina had the SU-16 out, and in her hands, “I just wish I knew where he was shooting from. I’m a pretty decent shot.”
I hadn’t heard shots for a few moments so either he lost sight of us or was changing magazines. I was hoping he lost sight of us. Opus came over and brushed me with his shoulder and sniffed the side of my head.
“I know, you think it’s funny I’m on all fours like you, and that I’m at your level. Deal with it and try to stay low, this guy’s trying to kill us.”
Opus chuffed and then licked my cheek, his tail wagging.
In the distance, a loud shout echoed and wasn’t repeated, the words lost over the distance. I could tell by the tone that it wasn’t the next-door neighbor girl scouts, or somebody trying to sell us Avon. We leapfrogged from one area of cover to another, always pausing and hesitating and stutter-stepping.
We didn’t talk, but it became a habit, and I didn’t hear any more shots.
We entered the tree line sooner than I had expected. The tree line wasn’t what I expected either.
“This sucks,” Tina said, staring at the trees we had been working for, hoping for more cover.
“This is not what I expected,” I admitted. “We must have been uphill when we saw this.”
“It looked like a solid green belt. As long as we head northwest when we get out of here, we should hit the trailhead and hopefully come out near the van.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
I pulled my pack off and got out my water bottles. I dug around a second longer and pulled out the tin pan from the bottom of the pack and poured out the rest of the first jug of water. Opus was on it as soon as I put it to the ground. I almost chided him for drinking so fast, slopping some water out, but I didn’t. He didn’t know any better, and if I was parched, he must be dry. I got the second bottle open and topped more of his dish off before taking a long swallow. Tina leaned the pack rifle against my backpack and then stripped out of her pack. We didn’t talk, and she killed the rest of her water bottle.
We were both tired and sore. We weren’t used to exerting this much energy in this kind of heat. I looked around at the sparse cover. Up close, the tree line was more of some trees with some shrub-looking things, and although it looked green and lush from a distance, it was just a tree or shrub every twenty feet or so. There weren’t many leaves, and the cover would be good to break up our profile from the shooter, but there wasn’t much ballistic protection.
“Let me look at your head,” Tina said and took my water jug out of my hands and set it aside.
She pulled something out of her bag and poured a little water on it. I was about to tell her I had wet wipes in a pouch but it was already done before I could think of it and she wiped slowly at the edge of my temple. I had played off that none of this bugged me, but as she inspected it, her breath hissed in and I felt a stab of anxiety.
“Looks like a cut. A real thin one. Bled quite a bit, but I’m not sure you’re even going to need stitches.”
“Like I told you, a flesh wound,” I told her, sitting still, letting her use the cloth to wipe my face down.
I’d been hot and sweating, and it was cool, wiping the salt from my sweat and dried, crusted whatever off of my face.
“Hey, Opus,” I said. “Can you smell him anywhere nearby?”
Opus laid down and put his head between his paws and stared at me, his tail moving softly.
“That’s a no,” Tina said, “You have a first aid kit?”
“I do, but do you think we should get going again?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if he’s still chasing us. We’re—”
“Your kit is toast,” Tina said and stopped wiping my face down.
I looked at the open pack. I had dug through it, but I hadn’t done it checking everything. The first-aid bag I had was a small thin white plastic affair with a red cross on it. She held it up for me to look at. An oblong hole was punched right through it, and I watched as she opened it.
<
br /> “We can salvage half of that stuff,” I said, my mouth dry again.
“You…this was…”
Tina poked her finger into a hole in the side of my pack.
That wasn’t there before, then I remembered when I was hit with the rock chunk when he was shooting at me. Something had pulled at my pack. I leaned forward and spun the pack to face me and then let my head drop when I looked at the far side. The bullet had traveled through my pack, and the compass I’d clipped back on it was shattered. I pulled things out of my pack and found holes in my extra pair of shorts, the first aid kit and a tube tent. If the shot had gone a little bit lower, it might have hit the metal quart of denatured alcohol I kept for my cooker. That would have been bad news… and with the shorts out, I quickly changed out of my sleeping pants.
“You’re… he was trying really hard to shoot you,” Tina said, and then pushed the pack out of the way and wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me tight.
Opus let out a low woof, and we both looked up and around.
“Are you feeling neglected?” I asked him, and he belly crawled over to us. I scratched his head.
“Let’s see if we can find the water,” I told Tina. “You said there might be a river or a wash just past the greenbelt with the trees?”
“Then the road, and maybe help.”
“If we can find the road,” I said, looking at the broken compass barely hanging on to the brass clip on my new perforated backpack.
21
Rick
We moved from cover to cover, but not as fast as we had earlier. The sun was up, and there hadn’t been any more sign of whoever was chasing after us, trying to shoot the shit out of me.
Could it have been the bar guy? I might have gone a little overboard with pulling the gun on him when I could have probably stomped on his wrist, but I might have gotten cut, too. I’d just seen a weapon flash at one of my loved ones and reacted. That was problem number two. Had I been prepared to use it? That bothered me, because now it wasn’t just a loved one who was being hunted by a guy with a weapon, it was all of us.
Opus Odyssey: A Survival and Preparedness Story (One Man's Opus Book 2) Page 14
