Johnny panted, resting for a moment. While he paused his climb up the mountain face, he chanced a look down. The ground was far beneath him, but the last ridge he had come across was only twenty feet down, with the next closest ridge still ten feet above. When climbing, he always tried to stake in every ten feet. If he fell, it would hurt, but not harm. A bead of sweat fell into his eyes. He pulled off a glove and wiped his forehead. He turned around and looked at the world below him, the wind gusting gently in his face. He was only about halfway up the mountain, but LA could still be seen off in the distance. Even from there, John could see the smog hovering above the city. Appreciative of the fresh air, he took a deep breath. "Alright, let's keep going." he encouraged himself.
Johnny pulled himself over the last ledge. He had finally reached the top after hours of climbing. He laid on his side, his backpack preventing him from laying on his back. After catching his breath, he unclipped his pack and sat up, stretching his muscles. "Wow." he breathed, the view was stunning. There was still a couple hours before sunset, but from his vantage point, the sky was already starting to darken in the east. After he caught his breath, he reached into an easy access pocket of his pack for his canteen. He opened the top and drank the last few sips. "Hmm." he hummed in concern. He unzipped another pocket and pulled out a second canteen. "That's not good." he held the other empty canteen upside down. His priority suddenly changed from setting up camp to finding water. He scooted further back from the edge of the cliff, disconnected his lines and took off his harness, leaving it in a pile. He pulled his backpack on and started wandering around, listening for running water. As he searched, he found a blackberry bush. With a smile, he grabbed a handful of ripe berries and popped them into his mouth, munching the fresh berries and relishing the sweet taste. Suddenly, he stopped chewing. He swallowed and followed his ears, which had heard water. To his delight, he found a mountain stream. He also noticed a trail along the stream, hoping it was an official park trail, and not anything else. He was pretty far from the ranger's station.
Returning to the clearing where he left his harness, he dropped water purifying tablets in his full canteens, marked the time on his watch, and inspected the area he climbed up to. It was a small cove, but big enough for several tents. The area was surrounded by rocks, trees, bushes, and undergrowth. It appeared bowl-like, trees and rocks isolating the area. Several feet over from the ledge where he left his climbing gear was another sheer drop, bookended by two thick bushes, framing the view looking east. He was pleased with his discovery, the clearing was protected from any onlookers from the trail he identified on his map, had clear spots to view the sunrise, a nearby water source, along with easy access from the mountain face. All in all, it was perfect. In the center of the clearing, Johnny started ripping out any plants, leaving just dry California dirt. He hunted for a flat rock, with which he dug a small divot in the ground. Johnny balanced the flat rock so part of it was over the hole. He left and gathered a collection of dry twigs for kindling. When he had piles of various sized sticks, he pulled his flint and steel out of his bag, adeptly catching the twigs with the spark. He fanned the small tongue of flame until it started putting off more heat. Only then did he add larger branches and logs. When he was content the fire wouldn't go out, he turned away, it needed to burn down before he could cook with it anyway.
The sun had set behind the mountain for those in LA, but Johnny still had a faint light, which was already fading. His fire had heated the flat rock enough to where Johnny could use it as a stove, and he had. There was a small pot with water on it and an open can of beans heating up. Johnny had set up his sleeping bag in the crook of a rock, a small rain fly above him. Normally he just slept under the canopy of the stars, but a thin layer of clouds had appeared in the sky. "It wasn't supposed to rain." he said with slight irritation when he first noticed them, setting his rain fly up with an eye roll. "I wanted to see stars." he murmured. A log crackled and brought Johnny's attention back. With two larger sticks he used as tongs, he pulled a potato wrapped in foil from the depths of the fire. Poking it with the stick, he smiled. It was soft. He dipped a finger in the beans cautiously, quickly retracting it when it was hot to the touch. "Dinner is served." he said to himself, getting his spoon from his pack. The temperature had dropped, but he was warm enough from the fire for the moment. He allowed his mind to wander for the first time that day while he ate. Earlier that day while he was still home, Roy called.
"Hey Junior, just calling to see if you want to come over for dinner and a beer or two. I'm grilling tonight." Roy paused, there were things left unsaid. "Call me back when you get this message."
Johnny eventually called him back, but for a rain check. Not even dinner at the DeSoto's could clear his head after the shift they had. Not that it was a bad shift, they had the collection of regular calls; some bad, some chaotic, some textbook, but the one that stuck with him the most was why he was on the top of a mountain now. It wasn't particularly gruesome, it didn't end in death, it was just heartbreaking. He wondered how Roy wasn't more bothered, at least not that he showed. "You'd think I'd know." Johnny muttered, he had been Roy's partner for almost two years at this point. "Maybe I should've invited him." he thought for a moment. He wasn't sure if Roy would appreciate the climb though, he preferred water rescues to high angle ones. "Thank god he has Joann and the kids." he said as he chewed a spoonful of baked potato.
The call started out easily enough, the police wanted a mental evaluation. When Roy parked the squad, Vince's face told them that the situation wasn't ideal.
"He's refusing to get out of his truck 'cause he lives in it, but he's threatened to shoot himself multiple times." Vince sighed, "We really don't wanna pull him outta there, but he's not giving us much choice, our hands are tied since he's threatened suicide. And, he's a vet." Roy's jaw set. He put down the biophone, wordlessly handed John the radio, unclipped his tool pouch from his belt, and walked over to the car. "I hope he gets through to him." Vince said as he and Johnny watched Roy walk to the truck with a purpose. "He's got some wildly untreated shell shock."
Johnny hung back, letting Roy take the lead. Every so often he would hear clips of Roy's speech. "I take every veteran suicide personally." Johnny heard him say. Johnny swallowed.
"Are you gonna arrest him?" Johnny asked the cop, clipping the radio to his belt.
Vince shook his head, "Wasn't doing anything illegal, only reason we're even here is the manager wants his truck outta the parking lot." Johnny turned to look at the building, spying a man staring through the window. Johnny refrained from rolling his eyes and requested an ambulance.
Roy's voice rang out again in a solemn promise, "I wouldn't miss you Corporal."
The fire cracked, sending sparks up into the sky, causing Johnny to blink in surprise. "Right." he said. He wasn't on that call anymore. That man was in the safe hands of Rampart staff, his truck locked and allowed to stay in the parking lot.
This was why he liked camping. Your day was busier, you worried about more immediate things; water, food, fire, gravity, shelter. Complete focus was needed all the time, leaving less time for thinking. "Suppose I can't avoid thinking forever." he said with a sigh. He sipped the tea he had made over the fire. The thin layer of clouds had thankfully dispersed, letting the stars shine through. Though it wasn't a full moon, it was close enough. The clearing was bathed in a gentle blue tinged light. Johnny listened to the comforting sounds of the outside. The crickets were chirping, several owls were making their presence known. The leaves of trees and bushes rustled gently in the breeze. His fire crackled and popped.
"I wouldn't miss him either." He can't imagine how Roy felt, or the man they were helping. "War is such a disaster." Johnny said to the air.
"Who?" an owl hooted.
"The war." Johnny answered the bird. "I hope he accepts help." Johnny prayed. He knew the man would be offered help, Rampart was the best, but he didn't know if the veteran would be strong enough to accept it. The stereotype of appearing weak when asking for help, was bigger than the actual relief of help. "I don't think I'd willingly get help either." Jonny admitted to himself. In fact he hadn't, many times over, choosing to suffer alone in silence. "Guess I got lucky." He smiled at the thought of his friends and coworkers. He hoped Roy would come to the same conclusion in his living room as John did on top of a mountain. Roy's safe place, his home, was a testament to who he was as a person. Johnny's was alone in the middle of nowhere.
"We're so opposite it's a miracle we get along." John said with a smirk. He recalled Captain Hammer saying a similar thing once, and Captain Stanley come to think of it.
Johnny smiled. When he crawled back down to the ground tomorrow, he was going to call in his rain check.