Against the fiery sky, the silhouette of a man stands over me, his fist in a ball at his side. "Looking for easy prey, sicko?"

I shield my face with my forearm. "Look, I don't want any trouble." Jeanie's rapid footsteps grow distant against the sound of the cormorants before disappearing. "That woman needs—"

"She needs you to back off before I call the cops." His face angles down at me, and his chest heaves as fast as mine.

I quickly gather up the pieces of my broken phone. "She was going to kill herself, man. I was only trying to help her." As my eyes adjust to the contrast of color and light from the setting sun, deep lines between the stranger's brows softens.

"Oh, damn. Sorry. I thought— I see a lady yelling on a bridge and a man running toward her out of nowhere—" He offers assistance by extending a hand.

"Yeah. I could imagine what it looks like, but I'm trying to help her. That's all." I stood, ignoring his gesture.

"I hope she's OK."

Her silhouette exits the other side of the bridge and blends with the distant shadows of aspen trees and the surrounding brush.

"I don't think she's OK." A pit in my gut opens up and unsettles my every nerve. "I should probably go after her or call police."

He eyes me. "Is she a friend?"

"She called my phone out of the blue and said she was going to kill herself. I just want to help."

"Really?" His eyes narrow suspiciously and he scratches his chin, making my skin itch from his icy demeanor. "A total stranger calls you 'out of the blue' about to do herself in, and you happen to be close by to save her?"

I nod, realizing how crazy it all seems. "Sounds a bit farfetched, I know. But—"

"What are the odds?" He cocks his head and watches me from the corner of his eye.

Of course, he doesn't believe me. However, it's not my job to convince him. "I know what it looks like but I don't get calls every day from strangers who happen to be to be five minutes away, even if it takes twenty minutes or less to get anywhere in this town. She needs help!"

He casually adjusts his jacket and snorts. "Not many people care."

There was no denying, Judging from his behavior, that he's one of those people. "The odds are small, but not unreal. Thankfully." I turn to approach the bridge. Should I follow her, call out her name, ask this man to help, or—

He offers his hand. "I'm Butch."

I stare down into his sweaty palm in disbelief. With reluctance, I shake it. "Jackson."

"Sorry about your phone." He places his phone in my hand. "Here, use mine if you need to make a call. Thought I was stopping some creep." His laugh fills me with a sense of unease.

"It's alright." I produced a half-hearted chuckle, letting off some steam. How useful would it be to report to the police without knowing Jeanie's full name, phone number, or physical description?

"You're a good guy, Jackson. Haven't had the pleasure of meeting a hero before."

I glance to him and then behind me at the trail of footsteps I left behind. I'm hit with a sudden urge to retrace my steps and return to my peaceful spot within the forest. "I'm no hero. Just a guy who cares. Look, I have to go."

"Wait. That's the thing. Listen. True story." He strokes the blemished skin on his chin as if it were a thick beard. "I was in a situation like her before. And just like Pops used to say, I was 'deep in the dumps.' Just needing some proof that my life mattered to somebody. Anybody. So I dialed a number."

Although a part of me wants to leave, his words and my suspicion strikes a nerve. I narrow my eyes. "Yea?"

He lets out a nervous chuckle. "Someone answered, but when I told them I was going to off myself they hung up. So I tried a new number."

I cock my head and try to shake the uneasiness that bubbles in my gut. "And?"

"And they hung up." He laughs so hard it startles me and I jump. "I tried a different number and they told me to never call again. And a different number and they told me to go ahead and jump. And a different number and they laughed in my ear. A different number—"

"I get it." I swallow the lump of fear that climbs from the center of my ribcage to rest in my throat. The silence is loud. Not even the cormorants interrupt the sense of dread in the atmosphere. "People can be cruel."

His chin drops but his eyes grow round and remain fixed on mine. "Not everyone who reaches out for help from these cruel people end up running off in the night, disappearing as quickly as a magical genie. Poof!"

Was that a grin curling his lip?