Miko's Mountain

Mindful of the girl nearby, I rolled with him, layers of civilization sloughing off, wanting my enemy dead. Over his shoulder, I could see the rocks marking the edge of the ledge. My right hand found his throat, and I shoved him away from me. He shrieked and kicked me hard in the thigh. Eyes watering, I kept shoving, inching us both closer and closer to the edge.

"I'll kill you," I rasped. "I'll fucking kill you!"

His eyes widened for a split second as his walking stick arced through the air and crashed onto his head. He went limp, and the sharp scent of urine filled my nostrils.

I rolled onto my back. Verity stood above us, panting and clutching the stick. Neither of us spoke as we locked eyes, both seeing someone entirely unknown and unsuspected.

After a few seconds, she dropped the stick beside me. "See if he's alive," she directed, and crouched by the girl, taking her pulse.

As I sat up, pins and needles prickled through my left arm and I shook it, hoping to hurry the process. Breathing hard, I searched for the carotid artery of the unconscious man. A pulse beat under my fingers, fast but steady. I sat there, head spinning, and nearly cried. I had come so close to the unthinkable, but Verity had saved me.

Verity's voice startled me. "She's alive, but that's a nasty blow to the head and I don't like all this blood." She held up her hand to show me her bloody palm. I winced, both in sympathy for the girl and as my own injuries started throbbing. "We need to get her out of here."

"Fireman's carry?" I asked.

"Smarter to put her in the sleeping bag and carry or drag her. It's too cold."

"I can carry her. She's not too big and what else am I going to do with all this adrenaline?"

Verity wrinkled her nose and inclined her head towards the man. "What about Mr. Personality over there?"

"I could throw him off the ledge," I suggested, aiming for a light tone to reassure my wife that the savage she had just witnessed had retreated. "Nobody would miss him, I bet."

"Not a big loss to the world, but there's that whole justice and upholding the law thing." She had fished a towel out of her pack and wiped the girl's face as she spoke. Behind me, the man stirred and I rose to my feet, not taking my eyes off him.

"Better to throw him off the ledge. Save the taxpayers the expense of a trial."

The man groaned and unexpectedly sat up. I wasted no time pushing him back down and putting a size 14 boot on his throat. Verity watched this performance without comment, then reached into the bag and brought out a roll of medical tape.

"Tie his hands with this," she suggested, tossing it to me. "It's pretty strong."

"So you're not going to let me throw him off the ledge?" I said it more for his benefit than for her amusement, but she quirked her lips at me anyway.

"Not today, chief."

"Roll over," I told the man, not moving my boot.

"Fuck you," he replied weakly. His eyes darted to my leg and the stick lying beside us, and I saw the intent to do harm take hold of him.

I removed my boot from his throat and rammed it down on his arm as he tried to sit up and reach for me. His screech almost covered the sound of the bone snapping. Verity went pale, her eyes huge.

"You motherfucker!" he cried, cradling his broken arm. "I'll kill you."

"No, you won't." I reached down and grabbed the arm right at the break. He fainted.

"You should have rolled over when I told you to," I told his unconscious form as I taped his wrists together. "But your kind never learns."

"Enough with the witty remarks," Verity said. "How are we going to get them both down?"

I regarded the scene. The girl had regained consciousness and was moaning and squirming, no doubt from the pain. The man also stirred, opening his eyes and calling me a few new names. His resilience surprised me, but all in all, it was for the best, I thought. I might be able to walk him down if Verity could haul the girl behind her, using the sleeping bag as a sled. I outlined this plan, and she nodded.

"On your feet, dog shit," I commanded him, grabbing him by his coat's collar and yanking him to his feet. "Time to go get arrested."

"Fuck you. I'm not going anywhere."

"I could throw you over the ledge like you planned to do with your daughter, but my wife won't let me," I said regretfully.

"She's not my daughter. She's a pain in the ass."

"She's a little girl, dog shit, and you're facing attempted murder of a child. I'd shut up and come along quietly if I were you."

He looked up at me and I gave him my very best "don't fuck with me" glare. The air seemed to go out of him as he considered his new situation.

"You should throw me over the ledge," he said dully.

"Fuck you," Verity said, exasperated. "This kid's still leaking blood. Let's go!"

**

A long time later, hair still wet from a hot, shared shower, we curled up together in front of the fireplace. I yawned. "My God, what a day."

"You said it. I've seen plenty of trauma victims in my time, but never quite like that. Poor thing."

"At least she won't have to go home to that step-father. What kind of monster tries to kill a little girl?"

In shock from the pain, the man had babbled all the way down the path, about the girl and how she had made his life miserable with her teenager problems, how he deserved an easy life with her mother, and how we had ruined everything. Clearly, not the brightest bulb in the marquee. At the scenic lookout, our cell phones had started working again, and we had quite a call with the emergency dispatcher. The ambulances pulled up just we reached the parking lot, and we handed the girl and her step-father over to their care, with a state trooper following them to the hospital to interview ol' dog shit once he got his arm cast.

Verity had insisted that I get checked too. After having a bunch of lights shone into my eyes, I appeared to be battered but not permanently harmed. The contusions hurt like a son of a bitch, though, so I accepted the proffered painkillers with gratitude. She had driven us home, both of us mostly quiet during the ride, neither of us listening to the Christmas carols on the radio.

"I've never seen you quite like that either," she continued, her fingers light on my arm.

"Likewise. Just when I thought all was lost, you showed up like an avenging angel."

She snorted lightly. "I did what I had to do to save you. And I guess you did what you had to do too."

I exhaled slowly. "It bothered you, didn't it?"

"Some. I mean, I know you had to stop him, and God knows I'm glad you did, but at the same time, I've never seen you be so ... deliberately brutal."

She trembled, and I drew her closer to me, concerned.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've taken down plenty of suspects in my time, but I've never done anything like that before." I paused to think. She waited, silent. "Sweetheart, I was terrified. We all could have gone over that ledge, except my stud wide stepped in and saved the day. But when he put his hand on the ground to push himself up ... I knew he had to be neutralized. I saw the opportunity, and I took it."

I shuddered, remembering his screams. "I never want to do anything like that again."

She patted my shoulder. "I know. I just ... what you said about killing him, and then the arm. I saw something terrible in your eyes, Miko. I felt like I didn't know you at all. It scared me."

I tilted my head to look into her troubled amber eyes.

"I hope you know I never would actually have done that. The primitive part of me did want to throw him off a cliff, but I respect life -- even his. And I would never desecrate that place. It's our place. And like you said the first time we went, it's a place for life, and love, not death."

We held each other for a long moment as the fire crackled.

She stretched, rubbing one foot against my legs. I yelped softly as she hit a bruise.

"Sorry, love." She kissed me gently, which made it better.

"I'm 55 -- not made of rubber anymore." I sighed and snuggled into her.

She turned in my arms and kissed me again. "Neither am I. Pulling that girl all that way drained me dry."

"Mmm." I kissed her forehead. "I take it you're not planning to drain me dry, then?"

She pulled back so she could look at me. "Do you want me to drain you dry?"

I chuckled and drew her close once more. "Maybe in the morning." I yawned again. "I'm getting too old for this kind of thing."

She snorted. "We're both getting too old for this kind of thing, my love."

"As long as we're getting too old for this kind of thing together," I said into her hair.

I felt her fingers stroke my cheek and smiled as the flames threw light and shadows into the room.