The bartender set a basket of rolls in front of Greyson. “Here you go, sweetheart. This will pick you up a little. Want another drink?”
Greyson snagged a roll. “Yes, please.” She tore into the bread and slathered it with a pat of butter. The moment the salty tang and the fluffy yeast hit her tongue, Greyson moaned. This was better than sex. She chuckled as she chewed. Well, it was close to as good as sex at the moment.
She ripped through the salad, reminding herself to chew her food and to slow down so she wouldn’t scare the other patrons.
“Easy there, champ, you better slow down if you plan to get through this steak.”
Greyson slowed her pace and put her third roll back in the basket. She was back in civilization and needed to act like she had some manners.
She looked up as the still sizzling steak was placed in front of her. The smell alone was enough to make her cry. Manners were overrated.
She sighed. “Thank you, God.”
Greyson took the first bite of steak and groaned. This made every handful of nuts, every cup of noodles, and every packet of tuna she had choked down in the past two weeks worth every bland bite. This was serious flavor overload. This was the kind of moment that made her realize all the things she took for granted in her life. She had a home and good friends, she liked her job, and she had every material thing she needed. She was even lucky enough to have the time to make this journey. What had taken her so long? That was something she needed to work on from now on. Work was important, but not more important than knowing what she was working for.
“Looks like you did okay with the meal. Want another drink?” the bartender asked, sweeping away the empty plate.
“What’s your name?” Greyson asked.
“Laura.”
“Thank you, Laura. That was the perfect meal, and yes, I’d love another drink. I have a feeling I’m going to have the best night’s sleep of my life.”
Laura smiled. “I bet you’re right.” She set a fresh beer in front of Greyson. “What name are you using?”
Greyson laughed. “I’m Mountain Troll, but you can call me Greyson.”
“Okay, Greyson, what would you say has been the biggest lesson you’ve learned on the trail so far?”
“Is this one of those things hikers talk about?”
Laura grinned. “All the time. As I understand it, there are three reasons people do the AT. They’re either running from something, looking for something, or need to prove something.”
Greyson thought for a moment. “Well, I think I’m learning to appreciate my life more, especially the people in it. According to your categories I guess I’m doing the trail to challenge myself, but I think I’m also looking for something.”
“What are you looking for?” Laura asked.
“Good question. I’m not sure I have the answer.”
“Then how will you know if you find it?” Laura asked.
This question caught Greyson off guard. “I guess I’d like to think I’ll know it when it happens.”
“So you’re a journey and not a destination kind of person.” Someone called for Laura to pick up an order. “I’ll be right back.”
Greyson nodded. She took a drink of her beer as she contemplated what Laura had said. She knew the answer was too complicated to put into one category or another, but Laura had made a point. What would be the lesson of this journey? Would the trip show her things about her life, herself, that she had been too busy or too stubborn to see? Well, at least she had plenty of time left to find out.
Laura returned with the check. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No. I think I’m ready for that good night’s sleep,” Greyson answered.
“How long are you sticking around?”
Greyson shrugged. “I’ll be here tomorrow. I think I need a couple more good meals before I head back out.”
Laura laughed. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Maybe,” Greyson said with a smile. “Oh, and to answer your question, I think it’s about both the journey and the destination. The trail makes me think outside my comfort zone. I consider possibilities I never would have thought of before. But without a destination I’d just be lost.”
Laura smiled. “Good luck out there, Mountain Troll. I hope the trail angels are kind to you.”
“Thanks.” Greyson stood to leave. “Save a steak for me tomorrow.”
* * *
Greyson pushed through the door of the small post office. It was just one room, lined with post office boxes and a small counter. The building was so small it was easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention.
She walked to the counter and heard a bell chime in the back. She looked down to see sensors at both ends of the counter. She had broken the beam alerting anyone in the back that she was there.
“I’ll be right there,” someone called.
A moment later a sixtyish woman with spiked silver hair rounded the corner. She squinted one eye and surveyed Greyson. “Hmm, haven’t seen you before. Are you a through-hiker? Which direction, north or south?”
Greyson smiled. “How’d you know I was a hiker?”
“You have that worn-down look, like you haven’t been eating right and your skin doesn’t quite fit anymore. Besides, I know everyone in town and you’re a new face.”
Greyson laughed. “Well, I am a hiker, but I’m just a section hiker this trip. I’m hoping you have a package for me, Greyson Cooper.”
“Ah, yes, that one’s been here awhile. I was wondering when you were going to show up.” She disappeared around the corner again. Greyson could hear her shuffling things around. She reappeared like a mole in one of those carnival games.
“This trip, you say. I guess you know what you’re getting yourself into out there then.”
Greyson shrugged. “So far, so good. As long as these supplies keep showing up, I just might live.”
The older woman laughed. “It’s not the mail you need to worry about, it’s the bears. They’ve been unusually active this year. They’re either getting drawn in by the traveling snack bar or they’re hurting for their usual grub. Either way, you watch yourself.”
Greyson nodded. “I ran into some hikers who had a close call a little over a week ago. I’ve been avoiding the shelters since then. Several of them have already been closed because of the bear activity, but I haven’t had any trouble myself.”
“Well, that’s good. I guess that means you came from the north. I don’t know of any shelters closed south of here.”
Greyson lifted her box, then noticed the small name tag pinned to the old woman’s shirt. “Thanks for the heads-up, Pat.”
Pat smiled. “I’ve been working in this post office for the past thirty years, and I’ve seen an awful lot of you kids pass through here. Most had no idea what they were getting into when they started.”
“Thirty years, huh? Have you ever done the trail yourself?”
A glint sparkled in Pat’s eye. She squared her shoulders as a brilliant smile lit her face. “I’ve been bottom to top and back three times.”
Greyson extended her hand. “That’s impressive. Any advice?”
Pat’s expression grew pensive as she shook Greyson’s hand. “You never know who you’ll meet on the trail. Keep your head up. Make noise to scare the bears away. Make sure you drink enough water, and…” She paused. “Should you meet Lucile on the trail, tell her hello for me.”
Greyson frowned, confused by the last part, but something told her it wasn’t something she was meant to understand. “Thanks again, Pat. I appreciate your help.” She turned to leave but stopped at the door. “Hey, Pat.” She turned to see the old woman watching her. “Do you plan on doing the AT a fourth time?”
Pat grinned. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”
Greyson laughed. “Roger that. See you on the trail.”
Greyson was eager to get back to her room, settle her gear, and grab another big dinner. She wanted to get the most out of thi
s zero day because she planned on getting some serious miles under her feet tomorrow. She was heading into home territory and the Great Smoky Mountains were calling her name.
She decided to change things up for dinner. She took a seat at a small cast iron table on the deck at Spring Creek Tavern where she had noticed a group of hikers gathered. As expected it didn’t take long for the group to commandeer most of the tables around her on the patio.
A baby-faced young man with sunburned cheeks and a buzz cut came over to her table. “Hey, man, you mind if I use these chairs?”
“No problem.” Greyson nodded toward the chairs in question. “You guys just come off the trail today?”
He grinned. “Yeah, we’ve been out for about a month now. We’re really looking forward to some beer tonight. What about you? You been out?”
“Yep, I came in yesterday. I’ll be back out there tomorrow.”
“Cool, man. Hey, you want to join us? We’re just bullshitting and celebrating Bull’s new haircut.” He pointed to a petite young woman with a buzz cut.
“Bullshit and celebrating sounds like my kind of night. Thanks.”
Greyson and the young man pulled her table and the remaining chairs up to the group.
“Hey, guys, we’ve got a new friend.”
The group all seemed to look up at Greyson at once. She smiled and raised a hand in greeting.
A thin man with muddy brown hair pulled back in a bun waved back. “Good deal, man. What’s your name?”
Greyson sat down. “I’m Mountain Troll.”
“Cool. I saw your login in Damascus. Pretty cool shit. How did it go? Something about the trail and the journey, right?”
“Good memory.”
“My feet shall take this path, but it is my spirit that makes the journey.” The girl they called Bull rubbed her head as if the feel was unfamiliar to her. “That’s the truth of it, isn’t it.”
The baby-faced guy said, “That’s sure true for you, Bull. I never would have imagined you cutting off all your hair before we started this. I always knew you wanted to be me.”
Bull gave him the middle finger.
“Well you were a bit of a prima donna.”
“Bite me, Rascal.”
Greyson was enjoying the playful banter and could tell the group had known each other for a while.
“How much hair did you cut off?” Greyson asked.
Bull sighed. “We think it was sixteen inches, scalp to tip.”
“Wow, that’s a big change. Why’d you do it?”
Bull rubbed her head again. “I got tired of it. It was too hot on the trail, it stayed dirty and smelly all the time, and I kept getting it caught in bushes. Now that it’s gone, I realize how heavy it was.”
“Do you think you’ll be okay with it once you’re off the trail?” Greyson asked.
Bull grinned. “I really don’t know. It feels so weird. All I know right now is that the next few weeks on the trail are going to be a breeze. By the time we’re done, my hair should be as long as yours.” Bull reached over and tugged at the hair above Greyson’s ear. “If mine looks as good as yours, I just might keep it short.”
While they were talking, the waitress brought the first round of beer. Greyson leaned closer to Bull and asked what she assumed was the obvious question. “So how did you get the name Bull?”
That stirred everyone at the table. It seemed this sweet young woman had a tendency to get herself into a bit of trouble.
The guy with the man-bun laughed and elaborated. “Bull is the quintessential bull in a china shop on steroids. If you only knew how many fights we’ve all been in because she dumped her beer over some guy’s head.”
“Shut up, Boone.”
The group laughed.
“Here’s to Bull,” Rascal called out, lifting his beer.
“To Bull,” the group sang out in unison.
It was a good night. The group made Greyson feel like she was a part of their little tribe. It was nice to laugh. It made her miss her own friends and their crazy outings. She thought of her last night at home, saying good night to Olivia outside her apartment. It would be nice to hear her voice, tell her about the trail, find out how things were going with her. Greyson sighed. It was strange to miss someone she hardly knew. But that was what she was feeling. Of all the people she knew, Olivia was the one her heart longed for.
She decided it was a good time to call it a night. “That’s it for me, guys. See you on the trail,” she said finishing her beer.
“No way, dude, you can’t bail yet, it’s still early.” Rascal held on to her chair so she couldn’t leave.
Greyson leaned close to Rascal. “You guys are about ten years younger than I am, you still have the day off tomorrow, and I plan to take advantage of a full night’s sleep in a real bed. I can’t afford to be hungover on the trail tomorrow.”
“Yeah, man, I hear you,” Rascal conceded.
“You guys are moving faster than I am. You’ll probably pass me on the trail in the next few days anyway.”
“All right, man. Journey on.”
Greyson fell onto her bed the moment she stepped into her room. She rolled onto her back and dug her cell phone out of her pocket. She had a promise to keep.
The phone rang twice before being picked up.
“It’s about time you called.”
Dawn’s raspy voice crackled though the phone. Greyson could hear noise in the background and knew Dawn had people over.
“Sounds like there’s a party going on.”
Dawn laughed. “Yeah, it’s just the usual group. Man, they are so jealous of me right now.”
Greyson laughed. “Did you get my postcard?”
“I did. Very clever of you. I thought for sure you’d forget all about me the moment you hit that trail. I thought you were supposed to call yesterday. One more day and I would have been calling search and rescue.”
“You might want to give me a couple of days’ wiggle room before you call in the troops. I don’t want to be lagging behind because of weather or something and jump the gun. I really am okay. I’m having a really good time and I’m getting used to things.”
“So is it everything you’d dreamed?”
Greyson yawned. It was good to talk to Dawn, but fatigue was getting to her. “It’s everything and more. I don’t know what took me so long to do this.”
“Well, you better get your butt back here in one piece,” Dawn teased.
“I will. Listen, I’m heading back out tomorrow and I’m dying for some serious sleep. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”
“Okay, buddy. Stay safe.”
“I will. Oh yeah, one more thing,” Greyson added.
“What’s that?” Dawn asked.
“Don’t sink my boat.”
Dawn was still laughing when Greyson hung up the phone.
She stared at the screen. There was one more call she wanted to make before going to sleep. She dialed Olivia’s number. She frowned when the call went straight to voicemail. She hung up without leaving a message. What would she say? She pushed aside the wave of disappointment. Maybe it was for the best. She was letting Olivia get into her head. She needed to rest and she needed to get focused on why she was here.
Chapter Five
A sharp pinch at Olivia’s wrist pulled her out of her sleep. She woke from a terrible dream, the kind you know can’t be real, but won’t allow you to wake. The dream clung to her like cold mist, making her skin feel clammy. She shivered, then blinked. Her mouth was dry and tasted of something sweet. The persistent pinch at her wrist drew her attention. She stared at her arm in disbelief. A fresh tattoo stood out on her wrist. “What? No. This can’t be real. I would never…”
She looked around the room for the first time, realizing something was wrong. This wasn’t a hospital. What was it? There were no windows and the walls were made of cinder block. Bars blocked the only entrance. It felt like a cell or a dungeon.
A sinking feeling settled in her
stomach. Her dream had been real. Olivia screamed. Her voice echoed around the sparsely furnished room, the concrete walls around her magnifying her terror. Every passing minute seemed like hours. Her mind raced, fueled by fear and adrenaline. Where was she? What was happening? Why was she here? She tried to remember. She had been at her parents’. They had fought again. She closed her eyes remembering the look of disappointment in her mother’s eyes. “Oh, Momma. Where are you? I’m so sorry I yelled at you.” Tears pricked her eyes. She had been driving. She remembered a storm. And a man. A man stopped to help her. A sob caught in her throat as she realized what had happened. “Oh no. Please, no.”
She replayed the news reports over and over in her mind. Those poor women who had been found murdered. Had the reporters said anything about tattoos? She remembered something about signs of torture. Oh God, would she end up like them?
Was this the same man who had hurt all those women? Panic rose up in her throat again and she wanted to scream, she wanted to throw herself against the cell doors until someone came to let her out. But the thought of that someone was more terrifying than anything else. She shook with fear. All she could do was sit and wait. She tried not to imagine the horrors those women had gone through. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that was her fate. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She had been so determined not to go back to her parents’. She had been desperate and had made a fatal mistake. Now she would give anything to be back on the farm listening to her mother preach at her.
She heard footsteps in the hall. She stared at the cell door, dreading what was coming. Her heart hammered against her chest with such force she thought it might burst. She held her hand over her mouth to hold back the sound of her choked sobs.
Captive Page 6
