Ch 3 P.3. Ditching The Wingsuit

“I misspoke earlier,” said Marle in a low voice. “I wasn't trying to be disrespectful.” Marle raised himself to his hands and turned to sit. “Don't make too much of what I said.”

Marle held out his arms for a rudimentary inspection. One wing of the wingsuit was gone. The rest was in tatters. At least he was alive. It was not a landing he would have chosen, but considering that he fell from a helicopter at nine thousand feet, he had managed. Still, his back ached; such a landing would surely leave a bruise.

Marle rolled to his knees and tried to stand, groaning as he failed. He came to his feet on the second attempt and leaned against the pine. It took Marle an unexpected effort to free himself from the wingsuit, but standing in his robe exposed him to a cooling breeze. He stumbled in his first steps, not knowing in which direction to walk. Finally, Marle turned toward the thinning and walked out of the forest to what he had assumed from above to be a verdant plain. He stopped at a gully with loose dirt showing the yellow color of iron oxides and geothite.

Marle tossed the wingsuit into the gully and kicked dirt in on top. “Might as well hide the evidence,” he said to himself.

He looked out over the erosional plains, with rising hills to his left, and spotted a line of shrubs in the distance. Thinking there was a good chance there was a stream there, Marle set out at a slow pace. He swept the plains with curious eyes and stared up into a big blue sky. A bright sun presided over a pastoral landscape, complete but for the absence of grazing animals.

The air was warm and pleasant as Marle approached the line of shrubs. He drew the air in deep breaths, delighting in the chaste quality. He wondered if he was still in Longshore. The scenery was more like Tennessee or Kentucky. He was really out in the sticks. At last, Marle reached the line of low shrubs and found there small trees as well. As he had hoped, there was water running from the hills.

Marle knelt and dipped his cupped hands into crystal clear water. He raised a cool drink to his lips. After taking time to quench his thirst, Marle waded out into the middle where the water ran waist-deep. He remembered that he had yet to relieve himself. Cool water on a warm afternoon was just the ticket. He turned and looked upstream to get his bearings. Upstream was not necessarily north. The flow of water depended on gravity and the slope of the land.

Marle turned downstream and considered his situation. He would need to stay put and watch the sun for a while; that would give him an east-west reference to judge by. It was possible he would be stuck a while. He had no way to communicate and would wander until he came across a town. The chopper had been heading to Chattanooga, so in all likelihood, Marle was somewhere in southern Tennessee. Which way he should walk was beyond reckoning; it would end up a matter of chance.

Marle's belly made a noise; it was time to eat. No problem, he thought. He would find a sharp stick, stab a bunny, strike up a fire, and have some lunch. Marle walked among the shrubs and small trees to search. He didn't see a lot of dead wood, and he had no knife for cutting a limb and making a point. Maybe he could find wild fruit or berries. He needed something to ease the churning fire in his stomach.

He said to himself, “I'm hungry, but I'm alive.” Then, he said, “I'm alive, but now I'm hungry. Come on, berries. If I have to eat grubs, I'll starve to death.”

As he searched the bushes, bending over to be thorough, Marle tried to recall the towns and cities of southern Tennessee. He remembered that East Ridge was just north of the border, but he had never been there. He had been to Chattanooga, but that was of no help. He stood and leaned against a small tree facing upstream. Really, all he needed to do was determine his east and west, then walk north and west. That was the closest thing to a plan that Marle had.

Marle closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet air; it was a far cry from the canned air of the observatory. A sound from behind caused Marle's eyes to pop open. He turned to look; a wild animal would be inconvenient. That's when Marle saw the iron blade.