And I ran.
I started down the lane but then I thought, Irv was wounded, if Fuller got away, he might take his truck and to take his truck, he’d need road and even on this pitted, frozen, mud, one lane road, he’d get to me quickly. So I should get off the road.
But Irv had to get there somehow which meant there had to be a car or something that also needed road.
I just didn’t see it.
So I kept to the road until I heard the truck behind me. Then I veered into the forest.
We were far from home. Far. Very far. Two hours away. That far. I was in a nightie and socks. We were at even higher elevation than Carnal. It was freezing. I had no idea where we were or what was close.
So I just ran.
Then I heard him on foot coming after me.
Oh God. Oh God.
I had to get away.
My feet slipped and slid on the ice and snow and I was thankful my socks were thick wool. No traction but plenty of cushioning.
I kept going.
Then I stopped abruptly as the forest suddenly opened up. I slid across a sheet of ice on top of a huge, red, Colorado boulder that led straight to a cliff.
Panting, I looked over the cliff.
Shit. Shit. Fucking shit.
I had no idea how far down that was I just knew it was far.
I looked left. I looked right. I waited too fucking long to make a decision.
He crashed out of the forest; I whirled and lifted the gun.
He didn’t hesitate, he came right at me.
I had nowhere to back up but cliff. I had nowhere to run.
And I had two lives to save.
In a nanosecond, the name Tuku flashed in my mind.
So, actually, I knew I had three lives to save.
So, to do that, I made the decision to take one.
I pulled the trigger, eyes open but mind blanked to the sprays of hideous red and I kept doing it until he went down.
Then I stood on a cliff in the middle of fucking nowhere staring at a dead man while breathing hard and freezing my ass off.
Then I ran to him and checked his pockets.
No fucking phone. No fucking keys.
Shit, shit, fucking shit!
I kept my eyes to the ground to follow my tracks in the snow back to the road, moving fast and keeping moving, I needed my heart pumping and blood rushing, warming my body, keeping my baby safe. When I got to the road, the door was hanging open on his truck and I heard the dings.
The keys were in it.
I climbed in and forced my frozen, trembling fingers and equally frozen trembling legs to do what I commanded but they were really fucking frozen and trembling a fuck of a lot. My three point turn took seven points. But I got it turned around, raced up the road and stopped outside the tiny, one room cabin, got out of the truck and ran inside.
Irv was not moving. I ran to him, got to my knees and felt for a pulse. The red was seeping from his chest, pooling around his body.
“Stick with me, Irv,” I whispered, checking his pockets. “Please, honey, stick with me.”
Back pocket, phone. Just like his son.
I flipped it open and my thumb moved over it.
Stupid. Stupid. Automatically, I called Ty.
It rang once then, “Dad, I do not –”
My stomach clenched, my heart flipped and I cut him off with, “Baby.”
Silence then a muttered, “Thank fuck, thank fuck,” Pause then, “Are you safe?”
“Mah, mah… mostly.”
“Right,” he clipped then, “Mama, where are you?”
“Two… two… about two hours out of Carnal. North. Hunting cabin. Mountains. Ty, I don’t know. We’re high. I tried to keep track of all the twists and turns but I couldn’t. There were too many. It’s in the middle of nowhere. But your Dad found it and he took on Fuller so I could get away. He’s been shot and, honey, he’s losing a lot of blood. I have to get in Fuller’s truck, I’m too cold and I don’t know if I can move your Dad or if I should and I don’t –”
“Get in the truck, get somewhere, leave Dad,” he ordered.
My hand was on Irv, curled around his neck and I whispered, “I can’t leave him. He saved –”
“Yes, babe, he did. Do not pay him back by losin’ digits or our child by freezin’ your ass off. Get in the fucking truck and get to fucking safety. Now.”
Okay, someone was freaked and freaked made him bossy and impatient.
Understandable.
So I whispered, “Okay.”
“I’m lettin’ you go now. I’ll get him help but I want you callin’ me frequently, even if you’re just drivin’. Got me?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Good. Get in the truck, mama.”
“Ty?” I called.
“Baby, get in the truck.”
I ignored him and whispered, “I killed Fuller.”
Silence then, gently, “Mama, please, fuck, get in the truck.”
“Okay.” I was still whispering.
“Okay,” my husband whispered back.
Then he was gone.