The hike started off well enough. I had managed to calm down a bit and put away all thoughts of running away. Relax, Jake. Stick to the plan. Take care of business, put some money together and everything will work itself out.
I took a trail that was especially steep and challenging—one I figured didn’t get much foot traffic. The last thing I wanted was to come across other hikers. I stopped at an overlook, with the town of Perth several hundred feet below me looking small and insignificant—the perfect view to help put my thoughts in order. Not ten minutes had gone by when I heard a group of hikers approach.
I could have continued up the mountain, kept my distance from them, but I was tired and I was enjoying the view. So, instead, I waited for them, thinking when they arrived at the overlook I could then head back down the way I’d come. The voices sounded young and male, and they didn’t sound local.
I’ll give them a friendly greeting then head back to the workshop. I need to get back to work anyway.
Two guys, probably around my age joined me at the overlook. I was immediately uncomfortable. There was something oddly familiar about one of them. I had seen him before, either on TV or in a movie perhaps, I thought initially.
“Hello,” said the familiar face.
“Hi,” I said. I thought I saw a flash of recognition in his eyes. Stop being paranoid, Jake.
The other guy, a tall good-looking fellow with dark hair tied in a ponytail and a dark complexion, possibly Native American, dropped to the ground. “You said it would be a short walk,” he said to his companion.
“It was short.”
“I’m glad you think so because you’re going to have to carry me back.”
His companion looked at me, smiled, and shook his head.
I returned his smile with an awkward one of my own. His hair was dyed bright yellow with streaks of black. He looked like a comic book character come to life. If he was famous, I should have had an easy time placing him, but I couldn’t.
He walked past me to the edge of the clearing and looked down. “Phillip, you’ve got to come see this.”
“I’m not moving,” said Philip.
“I’ve got a good idea for the first pics.” He turned and offered his companion a mischievous smile.
“Hans, why is it that every time you say you’ve got a good idea, I get nervous?”
The two guys laughed while my jaw dropped.
Hans? It can’t be.
I knew a Hans once, from back in the orphanage. He was my age, and his sister was a few years younger. They were always together, and they always stood out - always getting into trouble. At that time, I had trouble of my own, so I kept my distance from them. Could this be Hans from the orphanage?
Just as the thought crossed my mind, three more people reached the clearing, friends of Hans and Philip, among them was Hans’s sister, Greta. And even though it had been over ten years since I’d last seen her, there was no mistaking her.
Thin and pale, her soft green eyes added to the overall fragility of her appearance. She saw me, flashed a timid smile, and tucked her blond hair behind her ear nervously. Thank goodness I was sitting down, otherwise my knees might have buckled.
My heart pounded in my chest, partly from recognizing her and fearing I’d be recognized too, but that was only part of it.
Damn Greta, you turned out alright, didn’t you?
The two guys she'd appeared with, sat down next to Phillip. One of them let out a sigh of exhaustion and collapsed into the other’s lap. “Wake me when the wolves come to eat us,” he said.
“There aren’t any wolves in the mountains,” said Hans. He turned to me and said, “There aren’t wolves, right?”
I lifted my shoulders and extended my hands palms up. “I don’t know, maybe.”
“Don’t worry dear,” said the guy holding the other in his lap. “When the wolves come, I’ll fight them off.”
Despite myself, I said, “Wolves are nocturnal anyway.”
Greta carried a camera and walked over to the edge of the clearing. She stood next to Hans, and the two of them looked out at the view of the vast sky and the little town of Perth below them. “Even better than the other view,” she said.
I froze and had to remind myself to breathe. I’d seen girls before - Perth was a small town, but not that small. Still, I’d been hiding out for so long that I hadn’t had much contact with girls lately. And Greta was looking fine. She took out a bottle of water, leaned her head back, and drank.
I found myself staring, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“I say we take some pics of them climbing up the side, here,” said Hans, pointing down.