Mountain Madness. Jimmy Dale Taylor
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Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a reason for him running out of gas and this patrolman showing up just then. Jimmy felt a powerful need to tell all, to let loose all the frustration that had been building and building, filling him to the bursting point. He had to have relief.
Perhaps this man would understand. Jimmy could tell him that up on that mountain was a shot man, a man who was possibly dead, and somewhere on that same mountain was a scared young girl who was undoubtedly running for her life.
It was self-defense, officer. He was going to kill me. Not only me but the young girl as well. Terrie was about to get herself raped and then shot and buried. Me right beside her. We’d rot in the ground together.
Hell, nobody would believe him.
Nobody.
“Ran out of gas,” Jimmy said, hoping his voice didn’t betray him.
“What are you doing out this time of night?”
“On my way home.”
“You going to Ashland?”
Where in the hell was Ashland? “Yeah.”
“All right, come on and get in. Not up front. Crawl into the back. We’ll see if we can find a station open. I’ll take you down but you’ll have to find your own way back. Maybe you can hitch a ride.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
Adrenaline can carry a person only so far. When this is exhausted, fear can sometimes kick in and carry him a little farther. For Jimmy, it would need to carry him a lot farther. He didn’t know how far he was from San Francisco, but he knew it was many miles. He felt that if he could only get back home he would be safe.
True to his word, the trooper had dropped him off at an all-night station and left to continue his patrol.
Even though he would have liked to have had a ride back to the car, Jimmy was relieved to see the patrolman drive away. He made a five-dollar deposit on a two-gallon can and filled it with gas. On the four-mile journey back he hitched a ride part of the way and had to walk the remainder.
All the while, Jimmy felt the weight of the guns in his coat pockets. Had they been found on him, they could have tied him to the shooting, but he couldn’t risk their being found if someone happened on the car while he was gone. Now, he didn’t want to keep them on him another second. One at a time, he took them from his pockets and tossed them over the cliff, throwing them as far as he could. He poured the last of the gasoline out of the can and into the tank, then threw the can onto the floor between the seats. Then he got into the car, and headed down the mountain.
He made only one stop and that was at the same gas station to which the patrolman had taken him. There he filled the car with gas. After that he headed for 1-5 and turned south.
Terrie had still not found a ride. The night was getting colder and colder. Finally she parked the suitcases on the road and got inside the old, cold truck. It smelled of sweat, oil, old leather, and brake fluid.
She left both doors open for a short while. But then she closed them. A bear might drag her out. She rolled the windows down. Within minutes, she rolled them up again. Perhaps bears could reach in through an open window.
A sob jumped from her throat as she lay curled on the seat. There would be no sleep for her this night.
As the distance between them increased, neither Terrie nor Jimmy had any idea that they would ever see each other again, and both would have been happier had that day never come.
As the first light of morning penetrated the shadowy foliage on Dead Indian Mountain, a logging vehicle commonly referred to as a “crummy” bounced along on a road as rough as a cow pasture. Inside sat four men. Each was occupied with his own thoughts. At such an early hour the men usually had little to say. This Wednesday in late August was no exception.
Hank and Seth, older and experienced loggers, claimed the front seat while the neophytes, Mike and Larry, slumped on the back seat catching what sleep they could. There was no reason to believe this day harvesting timber would be any different from countless others, until the two men up front spotted the pair of suitcases sitting near the center of the road.
“What in the devil’s going on here?” Hank asked as he stepped hard on the brake. “Where’d them suitcases come from?”
Seth shook his head. “Damned if I know,” he said.
The squeal of brakes brought Mike awake. He bolted upright and said, “Are we there already?”
The two men up front didn’t answer. They had little tolerance for cubs who couldn’t stay awake at six in the morning. If these young men were going to do logging work, they’d danged sure better get used to the early hours.
“That watchman must be asleep in the truck,” Seth said.
“Why would a watchman have suitcases sitting in the middle of the road?” Hank wanted to know. “That don’t make sense.”
Seth had to admit that Hank was right. He opened his door and said, “I’ll danged sure find out in a hurry. If it’s him, I’ll see that the boss hears about it. Ain’t no excuse for sleepin’ on the job.”
Seth hurried to the truck door and yanked it open. Mike raised up for a better look. Larry was rubbing sleep from his eyes when a loud noise from within the water truck’s cab shattered the morning stillness.
The commotion was caused by someone screaming and lunging at Seth. He slammed the door shut and jumped back to avoid being attacked by whatever had taken refuge in the truck. By now everybody was wide awake. Whatever or whoever was behind that truck door was obviously scared to death.
During those brief moments, Terrie wasn’t the only one who was on the edge of panic. First Terrie screamed at the suddenness of the door opening. But then she screamed even louder because the man who had first looked in and then slammed the door shut looked like Jay.
Before the four men could make their escape from this wild woman, the truck door flew open again. Terrie rushed out and cried in desperation, “Wait! Don’t go! Please, please don’t leave me. I thought. . . I thought you were someone else. Please don’t leave me here alone. If you do, they’ll kill me.”
In her panic she grabbed Seth by the arm. He pulled away as though she were crazy.
She turned to Hank and clutched his arm, determined that he would not leave without her. The two young men in the back seat were watching wide-eyed. Terrie had their undivided attention.
“Why don’t you stay here and wait on the boss to come along,” Hank suggested to her. She was jabbering away and he had no idea of what she was jabbering about. “He’ll get it all straightened out and I expect he’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
“No!” Terrie cried. “I’m not about to stay here alone. Please don’t go!”
“We