Tired of Running

As is always the case I ran in the direction my instincts carried me. I ran by the house and straight into the woods. Once deep enough into the woods I made a ninety degree turn to my right, which would take me to I-95 after three minutes of running. I climbed the interstate's boundary fence, had to wait a few beats for traffic to pass, ran across the northbound side, crossed the medium, had to wait again for traffic to pass, then crossed the southbound lanes and ran for the boundary fence. As I reached the fence I heard gun fire. I turned and looked at my back trail. Impossibly there were two men standing on the woods side of the fence I had crossed earlier. Both had rifles raised and pointed at me. I froze. They both fired. I saw a flame thrown from each barrel. At that moment an eighteen wheeler passed going south and somewhere in my mind I thought I heard bullets hitting metal. I wasn't sure of the sound then, but today I figure it had to be a trick of my mind. It looked like the truck had appeared at the perfect moment to take the bullets, but it seems impossible I would hear the sound of impact over the noise of the truck.

As fast as it appeared the truck was gone and I saw the men again. As I watched both worked their lever action rifles to load a fresh round. Motivated to move I threw my body over the fence and rolled to the ground to the sound of a pair of staggered shots. I'll have to invent a term to describe what I did next. Unwilling to stand and present a larger target, I "crawl ran" into the woods. On my hands and feet, but without my body touching the ground, I used all four limbs to crawl so fast that it would have to be called running. As I did the gun shots continued but I also heard the sounds of a truck's breaks locking up and several car horns. At this sound I rose to my feet and ran full speed into the woods. I never looked back.

I was again in the woods behind the Holliday Inn. Somehow I ran past the spot I'd used earlier to go through the stolen luggage. I paused there, doubled over fighting for breath. Behind me I heard the sounds of men running in my direction. Whoever those two guys were they were good. They were also determined and not shy about taking shots at me. Knowing this was the end game, I ignored that I couldn't breath and ran towards the Holliday Inn. There was a wide open area I had to run across before reaching the motel's first building. Every step I expected to be shot in the back. Having no other choice I ran on without looking back.

Reaching the building without hearing a new gun shot I ducked behind the safety of a wall and took a quick peek back to see the two men with rifles running directly towards me across the open area. From their course I had no doubt they had seen me enter the motel. I had about two minutes on them, so I ran into the courtyard area where the pool was located. I went up a set of steps and ran down the balcony on the courtyard side. As I did I saw several police cars enter the parking lot ahead of me.

The noose tightening around me. I stopped running and put my hands on my knees, fighting for air. I was completely spent. I don't think I could have ran another twenty feet, and if I could have done so it would have only served to get me shot sooner. Like the old sniper saying, "If you run you'll die tired." I'd still try if I could, but there was no where to run. My thoughts shifted to survival. There was little doubt they were trying to kill me. To survive I'd need witnesses, so decided to go to the motel office, which I'd noticed earlier. Walking in that direction I considered what to do. I'd go into the office, tell the clerk I surrender, then lay on the ground with arms spread wide. I was thinking it would be best to strip down to my underwear when I walked by the maid's cart.

I've always been hyper-observant, so the first thing I noticed about the cart was the maid's pass key in a tray attached to the cart's push bar. I looked in the room and saw the maid making a bed with her back to me. I stepped back to the next room and noticed the curtain's open and both beds made. From the the direction the cart was pointed I assumed the maid had already passed this room. A guy in my line of business had to be fluid. Had to see opportunities when presented and had to be ready to seize the day. This was one of those moments. Carpe Diem.

I grabbed the maid's key, making sure she didn't see me, then quickly unlocked the neighboring room. When I returned the key, the maid still had her back to me. I looked everywhere for anyone who might see what I was doing but saw no one. I went in the room and closed the door. I started to double lock it but caught myself. I wanted the room to appear empty, so I left the lock as the maid had left it, with just the door lock engaged. Leaving the curtains open and not touching a thing I went into the bathroom, laid down in the tub and waited. I told myself it was stupid to trap myself in a motel room. Surely someone had seen me enter it. Most likely the pair of truck killers who'd been tracking me. I expected the room to be riddled with bullets any moment. But nothing happened. Thirsty I used the tub's faucet to get a drink. Time passed. Fear wore me down. At some point I fell asleep in the bath tub.

Several times I woke to sounds of voices on the balcony walkway. Once I heard the distinctive sound of keys and handcuffs from several cops running down the balcony. I no longer cringed at the sound. I was beginning to feel safe in the bathtub. I didn't understand why they didn't enter and take a look in the bathroom. But for some reason they never did. After many hours of laying in the tub I got out to use the toilet, then drew a hot bath. I figured if I had to wait I may as well clean up.

The hot bath made me feel considerably better, but the mirror was mean to me. My face was cut and mosquito bites had it swollen to a disgusting dimension. I was also hungry, but had all the water I could drink. I hadn't left the bathroom through the long day, nor had I stuck my head head out to take a look, but I could sense it was getting late and this brought a new concern. The motel catered to I-95 travelers. Though I wasn't sure what time the place would begin to fill up with guests for the night, I figured it likely would begin with nightfall. My bathroom refuge had become dark, so I knew I was running out of time. My preference would have been to spend the night, but concern over an innocent person being given this room forced me to move on.

It was dark when I risked a quick look into the room. I walked up to the window, careful to stay to the side. My view was limited, but I could see a slice of the parking lot. There were more cars in it than I would have liked, but I didn't see any cop cars. From the shadows I watched everything I could out of the window for a half hour. After a family with young kids walked by me and went into the adjoining room I knew I couldn't wait any longer. Acting like I belonged, I walked out of the room, down to the ground level, then towards the front of the motel. I stood in the shadows near the office. A Chatham County police car sat where the motel's driveway connected to the road. A single officer stood against the car's fender. He was positioned to see the motel, but he was alone and his gun was holstered. From the cop's body language he was relaxed, doing a job he had to do, but not worried about it. They thought I could be around, but didn't think it likely. They thought I had done the unthinkable and gotten out of their trap. I would have had to be superhuman to do so, but they didn't understand that. They couldn't factor my exhaustion.

The cop wasn't there because they thought I was still at the hotel, they were just covering all the bases. This told me that it would be safe for me to go back into the woods. But I didn't want to go back into the woods. I couldn't. I'd cleaned up and rested all day, but I was still exhausted. Stress, fatigue and hunger had worn my body down to the point where I had little left. If I went back into the woods my condition would further deteriorate. No, it was time to take a chance and get out of Georgia. I began looking for a truck I could hide in or some other opportunity. Nothing jumped out at me so I stood in the shadows and patiently waited. Eventually a pickup pulled up to the lobby and a man got out. A woman waited in the truck. I watched him talking to the clerk, then shake his head. For some reason he wasn't taking a room. When he left the lobby I stepped up to him and smiled.

I told him I needed a ride. That I'd been hitchhiking to Florida but the cops here were crazy and had been giving me a hard time. To excuse my appearance I told him that two of them had beat me. He seemed unconvinced so I told him there had been a big prison escape in the area so they where harassing everyone on foot alone. I said they'd already stopped me multiple times then let me go after checking me out, but every shift change it started all over again. I nodded towards the cop at the edge of the parking lot and said, "That redneck is the worst. Please. All I need is a ride to the next exit to get out of this county."

The guy reluctantly agreed, but told me I'd have to ride in the back. The cop couldn't see us where we stood, but as soon as we passed he'd see me. I had noticed that every time a car left the lot he would lean forward and look in the back seat. I was sure he'd look into the back of a pickup. I was about to say no thanks when I noticed a tarp in the truck bed. I thanked the guy then jumped into the back of his truck. As we began to move I laid down and pulled the tarp over me. It didn't work as well as I hoped because the tarp was old and stiff, but it covered me well enough. I could feel the truck slow where the cop stood, feel it make the expected right turn, then another right turn and we were accelerating down I-95's entrance ramp.

The next exit wasn't that far, so the guy tapped on the glass to get my attention and pointed further south, to which I readily agreed. He passed two more exits before stopping. He pulled into a gas station and stopped at the pumps. He said they were going to Orlando and that I could ride back there if I wanted to. Without asking if I was hungry his wife handed me a home made sandwich and a can of Coke. I slept most of the way to Orlando. Late that night I was back on my old stomping grounds. Free.