Brush with a Gangster

Sea Green

*'I'm living my life
I'm off the grid
I'm out of range'
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The winters were really cold this year. I could feel the chill seep into my bones. These days no matter what I do, I can't seem to ward off the cold from my body. I got inside my car, done with my afternoon patrolling. I turned on the heater to full power.

My job as a forest ranger is satisfying but it comes at a cost. It can get really lonely sometimes. Sometime it takes months until I see a human face. It's not that I like a lot of people. I am naturally disposed to like solitude. I get annoyed and suffocated when I'm surrounded by a lot of people. A book and a coffee is all I need for days at length. A habit of mine which my mom truly hates. She says whoever marries me will detest me for this habit of mine. Why would any husband tolerate the absence of his own wife or the fact that she needs her 'me time' a little too often than most. That is also a reason she didn't wanted me to take up a job all alone in the hills. She believed it will intensify my tendencies of a recluse.

My chain of thought got interrupted when I saw blood on the snow on the road ahead. I slowed the jeep as I got closer to the spot. It looked like an injured animal who has mistakenly strayed. I took my gun and a stick and got out of the car. I walked to the spot slowly to get a good look at the animal, when I realised that the animal that I'm looking at is not really an animal but a full grown man. And the the black cover is actually his fur coat.

This was strange. What is a human doing in this place during this time? There were no civilization for miles. I looked around for a vehicle but I couldn't see anything. How did he get here?

I wasn't aware of what to do now. If it had been an injured wolf or a snow tiger, I would have been much more comfortable. But a human, and a human male? I have had enough contacts with men but I could count on my left hand's fingers for those with whom I have a relationship that is more than an acquaintance.

Not something that I'm proud of though. It's just another one of my tendencies. I repel men.

I looked around me much more carefully this time to check if this is some kind of an ambush. But when I was satisfied with my surroundings, I again looked at my current predicament. What am I going to do with him? Is he even alive?

I slowly walked very close to him, he wasn't moving. I wonder how did he got injured. He surely couldn't get run over by a car here. Was he attacked by an animal? I tried to move him with my feet, my boots hitting his back underneath that fur coat. When I didn't get a response, I got down and decided to remove the coat so that I can see his face and ascertain if he is dead or not. With my gun ready in one hand, I slowly started removing his coat when a bundle of brown hair appeared, a part of which was matted with blood. The man was probably hit on his head. Without wasting more time, I took my fingers out of my gloves and made my way through the hair to his neck. When my fingers touched his warm skin, I realised that he is not dead, not yet anyway. But to still confirm, I touched his veins to find a pulse.

He was alive. That realisation, was both assuring yet discomforting. Cell phones doesn't have network here so the only way to call for help was through the landline at my office. But what to do with him? Should I leave him here? But what if he died? I couldn't let him die, his death would be on my head. I would not be able to live knowing I let a man die.

But how can I take him back? It's not like I can take care of him? Yes, I have assisted the forest vet in tending to injured animals a couple of times. But a man? And what if he dies there. Then his ghost will probably haunt me forever.

I tried to move him a little, so that I'm able to see his face. His face was covered with an overgrown and unkempt beard. He looked shabby. But his coat, and his sweater was thick and refined. I couldn't tell if he is a criminal or not. Are all criminals supposed to be poor?