I needed a vacation. I needed a week without speaking to anyone or listening to anyone. In the last three months I had two years worth of BP&M and that was too much!
BP&M? It means Bitch, Piss & Moan. As a project manager I get to hear it all day, every day, from about a third of my team.
As I drove away from the city I listened to the weather reports on the radio. They were exactly what I wanted. Rain and lots of it. If the voice was right I had about six hours to get up into the mountains, park and hike for seven miles before the sky opened up. I pressed a little harder on the accelerator.
Even without closing my eyes I could picture the cabin. My Dad, my two brothers and I had built it when I was a kid. My Dad left it to me. My brothers didn't love it the way I did. I knew it was stocked with dried foods, medical supplies and firewood. I had added metal braces and bars across the doors five years after Dad died and a year after someone had broken in.
I parked my car behind the motel in town. It was safer there than two hundred yards farther down the road at the trail head. I waved at Mike who owned the motel and he waved back. We were fine. I'd buy him dinner when I got back.
As soon as I was out of sight of town I started unwinding. For the first mile my legs protested. Too many days and weeks behind a desk. In the second mile my lungs hurt. Not enough time in the mountains. In the third mile I got my wind and started feeling at home.
I noticed the changes along my way. I could see where a fire had scorched a hillside, where someone had planted marijuana and someone else had burned the crop. I kept moving and checking my GPS often.
My watch told me I had less than an hour to stay dry. My eyes and the changes in air pressure and smell said I had less than that. I saw the cabin and stopped. A tendril of smoke curled out of the chimney! Someone was inside!
I moved cautiously around to the other side. From the front I had seen the metal bar and giant lock were still on the front door. When I saw the back door I saw that it was locked too. Whoever it was had gotten in through the small window in the bathroom. The other two windows had locking bars on them and were intact.
A huge rain drop hit my shoulder and I moved quickly onto the porch. I unlocked the door and removed the locking bar. I didn't hear anyone moving around inside. My Glock was in my hand as I slowly opened the door. A quick scan told me whoever was inside had been there a while. The fire was down to embers. A pair of boots were tossed in the middle of the rug. Then I saw her.
I saw a plaid shirt and bare legs on the bed. One leg had a gash on it from her knee to ankle. It had bled but had stopped bleeding. She didn't move when I made small noises. She was breathing so she was either passed out or sleeping.
I built the fire up and sat where I could keep an eye on her. The sound of rain on the metal roof was strong and somehow comforting. I was at home. She was a problem but at least she wasn't giving me BP&M. Yet.
Suddenly the inside of the cabin was super bright and shook hard as lightning struck near the cabin. She screamed and fell off the bed! She looked around and screamed again when she saw me. After a three or four second delay while her brain processed she dove for her pack. I raised the Glock and chambered a round.
She froze with her hand a foot from her pack.
"I think you ought to sit right where you are and tell me your story." I said.
She sat. Her leg hurt when she moved and I saw that it had started to bleed a little.
"I should ask you the same thing." She said.
"Except you're in my house, bleeding on my rug."
She put a hand over the spot that was leaking. I got up and found a clean towel in the kitchen part of the cabin. She caught it and pressed it on the wound.
"I got lost. When I found the cabin I had been lost for over a day and had fallen. My leg tore open on a tree branch and when I found the cabin I had no intention of breaking in. I just wanted a dry place to wait out the storm."
She paused. I waited.
"I heard a cougar early this morning and knew it would probably smell my blood. I have a gun but I've never fired it. I needed to get inside and away from the cougar. I'll pay to fix the window I broke."
I nodded. I believed her. I'd seen cougar in this area quite a few times over the years.
"I'm Pete. This is my home. I have a pretty good first aid kit and if you'll allow it I'd like to fix your leg."
Another lightning flash and booming thunder. We both jumped and she screamed. I put the Glock on the table and knelt beside her. She was shaking. I wasn't sure if it was fear or cold. Maybe it was shock. I looked at the gash and got my kit. After washing the wound I saw what needed to happen. I picked her up and carried her outside. I washed the wound again and picked splinters and rocks out. With a needle and thread I put three stitches in the worst place. She winced and whimpered once as she watched me work.
When she was bandaged I carried her back inside and put her on the bed. She looked up at me and said, "You did good work. You a doctor or something?"
"No. Medic when I was military. You did good, too. I expected screams and crying."
"I have six brothers. I learned early that crying is seen as weakness and doesn't get you much. It did hurt."
"I've got some Tylenol. Want a couple?"
"No, thanks. I have food in my pack."
I opened her pack and found her supply of food and her .32 snub nose. I put it on the table. "Good thing you came inside. That pop gun would have really pissed off the cougar if you hit her. Killing her would have taken a while."
"The guy at the store said it was all I needed."
