“That was stupid following me,” I said. “You’re not prepared for this. You could have died out here.”

She slowly looked up at me. “Would it have mattered?”

I looked at her for a long time then said, “There’s a hotel in Wall. Let’s get you there. Can you walk?”

“Will you talk to me if I do?”

“No,” I said.

“Then go,” she said. “Just leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

In spite of her weakness, she shouted, “Leave me!” She lay her face back down on the asphalt. “Just leave me.”

I looked around. There was no one in sight. I breathed out slowly. “Okay. I’ll talk to you.”

She looked up at me doubtfully.

“Come on,” I said. “I mean it. Come with me to Wall and we’ll talk.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then slowly struggled up to her knees. I took her arm and helped her to her feet. The front of her blouse was dirty and her arms were red and pocked from the rocks she had fallen on.

She took a step, leaning heavily against me. Then another. It took us more than twenty minutes to get back to my pack and nearly forty-five minutes to walk the mile to the Wall off-ramp. Only a few cars passed us, and even though I put my thumb out, none of them stopped. We passed three more signs on the way.

Wall Drug Exit

Wall Drug Keep Left. Free Mainstreet Parking

Wall Drug Straight Ahead, 4 blocks

Pamela was staggering and breathing heavily at the top of the highway off-ramp. “May I rest a moment?”

“Of course,” I said. I led her to the curved, aluminum surface of the guardrail where she sat.

I stepped back to the edge of the road and stuck out my thumb when I saw an approaching vehicle, which immediately slowed—a phenomenon not uncommon in small towns. The gray-haired man driving an old truck pulled off the road slightly past us. I walked up to the truck’s window as it rolled down. The man reached over and turned off his radio that had been blaring country music then looked out at me. “Need a lift?”

“Yes. Just into town.”

“It’s only a half mile. Hop in front.”

I walked back and helped Pamela to the truck, practically pushing her up into the cab and onto the bench seat. Then I threw my pack into the truck’s bed and climbed into the cab next to Pamela.

“How are you all this afternoon?” the man asked.

Pamela forced a smile. “Thank you for stopping.”

“My pleasure,” he said.

“We’re just going to the first hotel,” I said to the man.

“That’d be Ann’s,” he replied. “Right next to Wall Drug.” He signaled, checked his mirror, then drove into town.