Murder at the Arlington: Chapter 21
I’m not sure how long I sat there, holding Ruth in my arms. Right after we’d taken cover, I heard excited voices in the distance. Maybe a scream, I couldn’t be sure. Now, all was silent. Ruth’s breathing was steady, but the blood was beginning to soak through her shirt. I pulled the scarf from her head and lifted up her shirt collar. It was a small wound — shot through the shoulder right above her clavicle — the bullet appeared to have made a clean exit. I grabbed the napkins from the backpack, pressed them over the wound, and tied the scarf over her shoulder to stop the bleeding. I listened for footsteps, movement through the brush. All I heard was the wind creaking the branches above. Whoever shot at us was either waiting for us to make a move or had left. I needed to go for help, but I couldn’t leave Ruth. I could do nothing but stay put and wait. We had seen no other hikers on the trail. In fact, we were probably the only two that had taken this isolated path in weeks — the shooter and us.
Ruth started to come to. I had to do something. I had to keep her from going into shock.
“What . . . Syd?”
“It’s okay. I’m here. You had an accident.” She tried to sit up.
“Don’t move.”
“What happened?” she whispered.
