Craig sat on the flat rock that he used as a chair and watched the campfire burn as he ate his last can of chili. After two weeks of doing nothing but sitting and waiting, he was getting antsy and his supplies were getting low. He would have to go into town soon. But he wasn't sure though if it had been long enough. One of the biggest mistakes a crook on the run can make is to start running too soon. The search is the most intense at the very beginning. After a while, the news stops running reports and the local cops get back to writing to tickets and drinking coffee.
Fifteen days ago he had been staying in transitional housing from the correctional department and had just started a new job, filling vending machines. It was pretty crap work -minimum wage, no benefits, no future, but he was going to try to make it work. But then it happened. The kind of once in a lifetime score that you dreamt about and he knew he just had to go for it.
He was filling the vending machines at the Hartford Museum of Natural History when he noticed the display. The 'Soul of California' a dark purple benitoite gem the size of golf ball was the largest stone of its kind to ever be pulled out of the San Benito River. It was on display in a glass case in the foyer of the museum. There was hardly any security there or at least nothing that would prevent someone from taking it. Their strategy was instead to catch anyone who took it right away.
There were cameras at the entrances and two more aimed at the case itself. The emerald was under a hardened glass box which was secured with a simple lock and the kind of electronic monitor used to secure home windows. This was not the kind of security needed for a one-of-a-kind gem valued conservatively at eight million dollars.
Craig had never done a big job like this before. He'd started nicking stereos and the occasional car when he was fourteen and from there he graduated to knocking off electronics stores. He had been up at State for the last two years because he got caught selling stolen merchandise out of the back of truck. But grabbing that gem wouldn't be any harder than anything he had done before. The lock was cheap crap and he knew how to avoid the cameras. The trick would be getting out and away before the security guards inside the museum could respond or the police could arrive and then staying down low until the heat was off.
He finished filling up the vending machines and unloaded their deposit of quarters and dollar bills and walked slowly to his van our front, noting the cameras' locations as he did. His van was parked in a service parking spot close to the entrance but there were no cameras pointing that way. He took off his company jacket, put a Yankee's cap on and walked back into the museum.
He had learned that the best way to get caught was to try to be sneaking. It was much better to walk confidently like you owned the place.
The jewel was in a case in the center of the foyer before you came to the ticket counter. The way it was situated the woman behind the counter couldn't see the display. There weren't any visitors at this time of day. He walked up to the display and jammed a screwdriver into the lock. It turned easily just like he knew it would. He lifted up the display grabbed the rock and dropped it in his pocket turned and walked back to his waiting van. The whole thing from the van and back again took less than a minute. There hadn't been an alarm when he opened the display but he knew that he was now in a race against time.
He made it to highway 44 west out of Hartford without seeing a single police car. But he knew that he had to get rid of his car soon. It would only be a matter of time before the figured out that he hadn't gone on to his next stop. He drove through a small township and found a gravel road that looked pretty deserted. He drove up the road until he couldn't go further and then parked in a thicket of trees. With any luck they wouldn't find the van for a long time and maybe they would just think that the ex-con stole the van.
For the first time since leaving the museum he looked at the gem. It was heavier than he had thought. The purple color lit up when he held it in the sunlight. He could understand that this was valuable. He slipped it back into his pocket and grabbing a backpack he went to the back of the van to see what he could pack for a short trip. He loaded his pack up with the cash from the machines $137 in ones and a heavy sack of quarters. He then grabbed a couple of cases of chocolate peanut butter bars, three boxes of beef sticks and a couple bottles of sports drink. He grabbed his coat and a thick packing blanket, zipped up the bag and leaving the keys in the ignition he walked away from his life on the straight and narrow.
He had hiked that first day about twenty miles across country. Near a trailhead, he risked going into a camping supply store and picked up some basic camping gear and some canned food, that had cost him just about all of his cash but it was what he had been living on for the last two weeks. If he was going to make it the 2,000 miles or so down to Georgia, he was going to need some more money and some more supplies.
He finished his meal and was thinking about what he would do now that his chili was gone, when he thought he heard something not far from him. It sounded like laughter. There it was again, a loud joyful scream. That's strange. He had chosen this place because it was so isolated. It was near the Appalachian Trail, the north-south foot highway that went from Canada down to Georgia, but it was several miles off the main path. The whole time he had been here he hadn't seen or heard anyone. If he were spotted and recognized now it could ruin everything.
*****
Brianne paused to take a breath. People did this for fun? Like more than once? Her older sister Brooke had needled her for weeks until she had agreed to go with her on this hiking trip. She would have rather spent spring break at home reading romance novels and bench watching old TV shows on the computer, but Brooke had said she needed to do something memorable. She needed to stretch herself, experience something new. She had suggested they go to Mexico, but their parents hadn't agreed. Brianne was only 18 and her sister had just turned 21 and then didn't trust them at resort with hundreds of college kids. Also they were paranoid that they would get kidnapped by the Mexican drug cartels. So here they were, on the Appalachian Trail. Brooke didn't see what all the fuss was about. It was pretty much just trees, trees and more trees.
The worst thing was they had to carry everything that they would need on their backs. What a crazy way to take a vacation. Weren't vacations supposed to be about getting a rest, not getting exhausted?
There was still no sign of Brooke. Brianne was not exactly the most sporty person and Brooke had lost her patience with her around the first mile marker. Since then they had each been walking on their own. So much for doing something together as sisters, Brianne thought. Brooke was everything that she was not: skinny, popular, outgoing, and competitive. It was sometimes hard to see that they were related at all.
Brianne started to ascend the trail again when Brooke came running down the track sans backpack a huge grin on her face.
"I win!" she said laughing.
Of course you won, Brianne thought to herself.
"Come on slow poke. Let me take your backpack. You're almost there."
Brianne happily handed her backpack over. She was hot. She would be happy when they reached the lake. She would dive right in.
"You know you really ought to work out more," Brooke said chidingly. "You want to be in good shape so that you will get in a good sorority next year."
"I don't know if I'm going to join a sorority."
"Oh you've got to. The only way to get to know people at Decatur is to be part of a Greek house."
"I don't know that I'm going to go to Decatur."
