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“How many fingers am I holding up?”
Tim squinted up at him through bleary eyes, clearly struggling to focus on the hand in front of him. Raylan watched as he blinked in an attempt to clear his vision before trying again.
“I wanna say two but I think I might be wrong,” replied Tim.
Raylan sighed and folded away the three fingers he’d be holding up. “You’d be right,” he said.
“I was right?”
“What? No.”
“Aw, shit,” cursed Tim.
Their suspect had long since evaded their capture, even before Tim’s spectacular spill down a hillside, but they’d decided to continue anyway under the belief they’d be able to bring something back to office, if only to soften the blow of embarrassment and the inevitable dressing down they’d be receiving from the Chief in regards to being outrun by a junkie.
“God, Art’s gonna be mad,” muttered Tim as he started to gingerly pick himself up. “Ugh,” blood from his head wound had started to slip into his eyes.
“No shit,” agreed Raylan.
They were deep within the woods of Harlan, miles away from where they’d parked their truck. The climate was currently muggy, sweat clinging to their skin and shirts, the humidity unescapable between the branches and leaves, but Raylan knew it was only a matter of time before the sun dipped low and the moon brought the cold.
“We should start headin’ back,” said Raylan. “You good?”
Tim had attempted to wipe the blood from his eyes and had been successful in only smearing it across the bridge of his nose, though he stood firmly upright on his own two legs.
Raylan fished out his handkerchief from his inside pocket. “Here,” he said, pushing it into Tim’s hands.
Tim nodded in thanks, before giving his face a good scrub and tucking the fabric away for safekeeping.
Seeing Tim stood upright and with a little less blood on his face, Raylan felt the adrenaline of the last half an hour wear off and he stood back to truly appreciate the fall Tim had taken.
The hill, although unassuming from the top, was near vertical and dropped straight down into a small clearing. There had been nothing to break Tim’s fall at the bottom, only broken up twigs and sticks from the trees overhead and dusty, dried up mud.
Raylan whistled in awe as he looked up. “Hell of a way down, deputy.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” muttered Tim grumpily. “My ribs are gon’ be feelin’ it for weeks.”
Raylan patted him on the shoulder, somewhat sympathetically. “All in the line of duty,” he smirked.
“Yeah,” scoffed Tim. “If we caught him, maybe.”
Jimmy Alton was a skinny whisp of a thing, addicted to hard drugs and usually drunk, most of the time. The fact that he’d been able to outrun two US Marshals was a marvel in and of itself.
“Don’t think about that right now,” dismissed Raylan. “Trust me, i’ve pissed Art off enough to know he’ll get over it. C’mon, we need to find a way up.”
“Right, brilliant,” murmured Tim in exasperation. “I miss Rachel.”
Their options were limited and daylight was rapidly escaping them. They needed to move quickly yet strategically. There was always the risk of Jimmy Alton coming back to find them while also possibly bringing half of Harlan with him, meaning heading any deeper into the woods would be foolish and with Tim’s head wound still steadily weeping blood, Raylan didn’t like the idea of finding themselves compromised in an even more unreachable area.
Hands on his hips, Raylan took a step back and weighed up the final option. “We’ll have to go up,” he announced.
“No, shit,” remarked Tim sarcastically. “You want me to give you a boost up?”
“Very funny, short-stuff,” Raylan shot back. “Look, we can use these,” he said, pointing to several protruding tree roots.
Raylan didn’t wait for Tim’s response, instead setting straight to work testing the roots strength. They were large and gnarled, seemingly strong enough and Raylan was confident they’d be able to support their weight and aid them in climbing up and out.
Once Raylan was happy with his assessment, he started his ascent upwards knowing Tim would follow.
“Jesus, it’s like being back in basic,” Tim grumbled. “Never did climb much when I actually shipped out, mind.”
“No?”
“No,” said Tim flatly. “I mostly just shot folks.”
Raylan ignored the comment and focused on coordinating his hands and feet, ensuring he was happy with his grip before making each move and it wasn’t long before he was nearing the top.
He stopped and looked down to assure Tim was still following him. Although the deputy was still right behind him, he looked as if he was starting to struggle, hands shaky and face pale, blood starting to drip into his eyes again.
“You good?”
“Dizzy,” responded Tim shortly. “Don’t stop.”
Raylan didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately restarted his ascent with little of his earlier care, kicking up loose rocks and dirt as he scrambled to pull himself up and over the edge in record time. Once at the top, he reached out and grabbed blindly for Tim as the other deputy reached the hills edge, helping him up and to safety.
“Thanks,” panted Tim from his position on all fours. He swatted his hand sightlessly at Raylan, smearing blood across his shirt. “Thought I was goin’ straight back down the hill.”
“Yeah, well i’m sure glad you didn’t,” sighed Raylan, wiping the sweat from his brow before getting to his feet. “How’s your head doin’?”
Without looking up, Tim mustered up the energy to give Raylan a less than convincing thumbs up.
“It’ll do,” Raylan said. “C’mon, it’s getting dark and we’ve still got Art to deal with.”
Tim groaned but pulled himself upright and to his feet. “I miss Rachel. She doesn’t get me into trouble.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” sighed Raylan. “I heard you the first time.”
They started their journey back through the woods in silence, dirt and filth clinging to their sweaty, aching bodies. It would be about an hour before they reached their truck and Raylan was already not looking forward to the drive back to Lexington.
“You think if we just drove to the nearest bar and camped out for the night, they’d believe us if we said we spent the night lookin’ for Alton?” Asked Tim.
“Hell if i know,” shrugged Raylan. “But that sure does sound like a hell of an idea.”
“I’ll get the first round,” declared Tim. “For saving my ass.”
“You’re on,” said Raylan, clapping Tim on the shoulder.