Original subtitles

You always hear folklore.

You hear horror stories and ghost stories.

But a lot of the ones told are true.

I'm not worried about a ghost, but I worry about people.

Perhaps that day, maybe he was out hunting.

Like maybe he was just looking for people

that he thought he could kill.

We were way out in the middle of nowhere.

There was no help.

What are you gonna do?

Just run for your life.

The appalachian trail follows a path

from Georgia to Maine,

2,000 miles along america's oldest mountain chain.

To hikers, it's known as simply the a.T.

The appalachian trail is completely isolated.

The enjoyment of the trail

is getting out where there is nothing but nature.

But one of the drawbacks

to the Serenity of the surroundings

is you become very complacent,

very comfortable,

and you kind of don't see the dangers that lurk.

On a peaceful day in may of 1981,

two hikers were walking on this trail.

Bobby mountford and Susan Ramsey

were social workers, and part of their hike

was to raise money for a facility

for troubled kids up in Maine.

In 1981, Bobby was hiking

the entire trail from south to north,

and I believe that Susan had joined him

for several weeks to come up through Virginia.

Okay.

Okay, I think we're here.

Well, that's a relief.

Where is here, exactly?

Dismal...

Right, it's dismal creek.

Yeah. And we're, right on time.

Excellent. Okay, so, from here,

it's another three miles to wapiti shelter.

We're just gonna camp there overnight.

And then from there, it is 17 miles into town.

Okay. Man.

There was also a gentleman there.

He's a very sheepish-looking guy.

Bobby.

If you know where to go looking,

there's arrowheads all over these here parts.

Indian arrowheads.

I could show you how to spot 'em if you like.

Sure, if you're going our way.

He doesn't look at you.

He -- when he talks to you, he kind of looks down.

Bobby: We could always use the extra company.

You from around these parts?

I sure am pleased to meet you.

Okay. Bobby.

Susan: Hi, Susan.

They talked for a few minutes. They had a conversation.

Then they left together, walking down the trail.

Follow you. Yeah, sure.

By day's end,

all three would become

etched into appalachian trail lore forever.

I live out here.

The lingering memory of what happened persists there

really to this day.

Almost 27 years later,

33-year-old Sean farmer is on his way

to visit the same section of the appalachian trail.

Dismal creek is in the southwestern part of our county.

It's a gloomy name, but, I mean, it's just a beautiful place

to go and relax and enjoy yourself.

Well, I'm originally from bluefield, Virginia.

It's right on the border of Virginia and West Virginia.

It's in the appalachian mountains.

Yeah, I'd say the biggest part of my life

when I was a kid was fishing or,

you know, camping, stuff like that.

That day, I was planning to go meet

my friend Scott Johnson.

I grew up with Scott.

Um, he and I'd fished our whole lives together.

He was a great fishing buddy.

Hey, man. Give me 20 bucks on pump two.

You bet.

And one of these.

You set to hike the a.T.?

No.

Just doing some fishing. Up above dismal falls.

Dismal?

Them two hikers,

they seen some funny things up that way.

Strange marks on the rocks along the creek.

Scared them boys into coming back down here

and hiking the highway till they reached town.

Need a receipt?

Nah, man. I'm good.

Well, you be careful out there.

Watch out for them cougars and what have you.

Where we were on --

up there on dismal creek was really isolated,

and it was about as far back as you could be.

Scott and I had camped at dismal creek four,

five times before,

and fished several times in the past.

That's kind of like our backyard, almost.

That day, when I pulled up to the campsite,

his truck was there, his tent was already set up.

Scott wasn't there.

You must be Sean.

That's right.

Scott said he'd be meeting you here.

I'm Ricky Williams.

Ricky Williams, like the football player.

You don't look much like him.

No. I don't guess I do.

Thing is, me and Scott

were doing some fishing down along the dismal.

He said I -- I could join you for supper.

Yeah, that's cool, man. You can do that.

That's good.

We'll need some wood for a fire.

You do that. I'll finish this.

I didn't think much of it at first.

He was kind of a weird guy, you know.

There is a code on the -- on the appalachian trail,

you know, to help each other out

and befriend each other and just be there,

and if someone's in need,

maybe share something you have,

and maybe they'll share something they have with you.

Dude.

Scott.

You made it, man. Yeah, man.

Hey, check this out.

Nice. Nice. Ooh!

Babies are biting. Yes.

Hey, well, let's get a fire started.

Let's do it. All right, man.

Eventually, Scott came up from the river.

Several hours passed,

and, you know, we cleaned the fish,

then we cooked out and made some burgers,

and it was getting dark.

Williams: Guess you boys know these woods pretty good?

Bet you know about the trail that is going through here,

the appalachian trail.

Yeah, I guess you must have

heard tell about the a.T. Killer.

That happened down in, Carolina, right?

The a.T. Killer, in '81?

No, sir.

That was right here in Virginia,

not too far from this spot, mind you.

Just a few yards on down the trail.

In 1981, after social workers Susan and Bobby

met a stranger along dismal creek,

they made camp at wapiti shelter.

So you two boyfriend and girlfriend like?

Well, we --

we're really good friends.

Yeah. We work together

at a place for people who don't have anywhere to go.

Susan felt that he was harmless,

that he basically was a person

who was mentally or --

or even physically challenged in some way

and unable to maneuver the trail,

and so she felt like she needed to take him, assist him.

Being a social worker is a great thing,

but in this case, it might've been the downfall.

Hey, do you have a place to call home?

Indians were in these woods

10,000 years 'fore US, you know?

We're just interlopers.

Do you know what them Indians did

when the first settlers come up here?

Oldest grave in these parts is Mary Porter's, 1742.

The Indians got her.

They killed her.

Listen, I gotta get out of here.

Now is the time.

Now is the hour.

Ours is the magic.

Ours is the power.

Ours is the power.

Now.

Now.

Now. Now. Now. Now.

On may 19, 1981,

Bob mountford and Susan Ramsey were on

the appalachian trail in

the dismal creek area of giles county.

Now. Now. Now.

Now. Now. Now.

Now. Now.

Ricky: Took a week 'fore they found 'em.

All tied up in their bedrolls,

buried in shallow graves.

Sean and Scott had come to dismal creek

to fish in may 2008.

It was something they'd done a lot before.

Sean found a man there, Ricky Williams.

They invite Ricky to have supper with them.

They tried to take care of him a little bit.

That's one hell of a story.

Happened right around here,

not one mile away.

You ought to hear the rest of it.

Now it was up to the sheriff

to find the fellow who'd done all this.

People were terrified.

They -- they thought that there was a,

you know, a killer on the loose.

No one knew what had happened.

No one knew who had done it.

The entire appalachian trail in Virginia

was shut down by the authorities.

There was a -- a large,

police presence all along the trail.

People were trying to find hikers

and make sure people were safe.

In 1981, I was a deputy sheriff.

I investigated robberies, rapes, murders,

thefts, bad checks.

Whatever was reported, we handled.

This case will forever be with me.

Hey.

We found a book.

There was a blood smudge on the book

with a fingerprint in it.

Okay, we got a thumbprint here.

You think that's blood?

We'll find out.

The fingerprint found in the book

matched a pearisburg, Virginia, resident with no prior history

of violence -- 27-year-old Randall Lee Smith.

Randall Lee Smith?

Who's Randall Lee Smith?

Randall Smith had grown up on the outskirts

of the town of pearisburg.

Smith lived with his mother

after his mother and father divorced

and his father left.

He had an aunt and uncle that lived next door,

and the uncle would take him camping, um,

along the same area

of national forest and appalachian trail

that would later figure so much in his life

and those of his victims.

Ms. Smith, we're here about -- I know why you're here.

And you ain't coming in, not without a warrant.

Randall Smith lived a -- almost a secluded life,

and he had acquired the nickname "l.R."

For "lyin' Randall."

He was an outcast all his life.

He basically just stayed at home

with his mother or collected arrowheads

out in the national forest.

We went and -- and searched the house.

We found several pictures

of naked women taped together.

Lawson, over here.

We found some cutoff shorts.

It looked like there was something red

all over these shorts.

Well, through our investigation,

we determined the blood in the shorts were --

were Susan's.

Narrator: Several weeks later,

investigators arrested Randall Lee Smith

in south Carolina and returned him to Virginia.

Randall Smith had a lot of mystery

that stayed with him,

why he did such a horrible thing.

I'm told that when the investigators asked him

about it in 1981,

he just said he didn't want to talk about it.

In 1982, Smith pled guilty

to the murders of Susan Ramsey and Robert mountford Jr.

And was sentenced to 30 years in prison.

Hikers for years have recorded how they were feeling haunted,

feeling eerie,

not feeling comfortable in that area.

Whether it's superstition or just respect or --

or just a -- a knowledge of the history,

hikers have been reluctant

to stay in wapiti shelter since then.

And locals never forgot the name Randall Lee Smith.

My fears really came about once I knew the sentence he got.

I knew that he would walk out at some point in time

and be back in society.

I never had a doubt

that he was capable of doing it again.

Ricky: Yeah.

They found the guy.

Locked him in a cage.

Well, good.

That'll keep the woods safe for the rest of US.

Listen, guys. I -- I gotta get out of here.

Dude. Where did you find this guy?

Man, he just showed up when I was fishing.

He stands on the bank and tells me

there ain't no fish no more in dismal creek.

I said, "maybe for you, buddy.

I got 'em jumping in the cooler."

Next thing I know, he's up here talking to you.

He told me you invited him here for supper.

That guy? Yeah.

Man, I just told him we were making camp up here.

Man.

Fire's dying.

Narrator: After meeting a stranger

near the site of a 1981 double murder,

campers Scott and Sean think they're alone.

Now is the time.

Now is the hour.

Ours is the magic.

Ours is the power.

Ours is the power.

Now. Now.

Now.

Now. Now. Now.

Now.

I didn't know what really happened.

Like, I just knew my head was ringing

and like I was drooling

and I couldn't see from my left eye.

And then I saw fire come from his hand.

And that's when he shot Scott in the neck.

And at that point, I knew I'd been shot.

Scott was kind of, like, turned and then ran.

And then the guy shot him a couple more times in the back.

This all happened so fast.

I was just like, "well, I'm either gonna run

or I gotta get him."

Then when I ran at him,

he turned and shot at me one more time.

He didn't say anything when he was shooting US.

He just sort of had this blank look on his face.

Maybe he was just looking for people

that he thought he could kill

and maybe felt like we were two candidates.

Scott was shot in the neck.

He had to put his finger

over the hole to keep it from bleeding.

He was able to have enough wits about him,

"I need to get out of here."

At the same time,

Sean is desperate to make his escape.

I knew my keys were in the Jeep.

It was backed into the campsite,

so I just knew I had to jump in there and punch it.

Now is the time.

Now is the hour.

Ours is the magic.

Ours is the power.

Ours is the power.

I saw him point the gun at me

and I just put my arm straight towards it.

And then there were no more bullets.

Somehow, Sean makes it out of the campground,

but he still doesn't know the whole story.

In 1996, Randall Smith is paroled from prison.

He returns to the edge of pearisburg, Virginia,

and he moves in with his mother

in the same house where he grew up.

Four years after he gets home, his mother dies of cancer.

I sure am pleased to meet you.

The convicted killer of Susan Ramsey

and Bobby mountford kept mostly to himself.

I really don't think that the community

where his mother's house

was located were very comfortable

when he came back there.

I wouldn't have been if I lived there.

In may of 2008,

five days before the shooting of Sean and Scott,

a family friend reported Randall Lee Smith missing.

We went to, the Smith house

to do a welfare check.

Got a lot of mail.

Oof! This place could use a paint job.

Just keep an eye out for anything funny.

All right.

Do me a favor. Check in with the neighbors.

Maybe they saw something we can use.

Right. With his prior history,

we had to see if anybody had seen him

or heard from him or, you know,

maybe seen something suspicious.

I'm gonna get some fliers made up.

So Randall left town?

That's what we're hoping to find out.

That boy never could keep a story straight.

Did you check the house? Yep.

Shut down.

Well, if he ain't there, I bet he's gone for good,

lest he's gone up to the mountain.

Well, if you don't mind putting those up

where folks'd see it,

letting US know if he turns up.

All right.

What kind of trouble you into this time?

I didn't know if Scott was gonna live or die.

I was just thinking about, "get out of there and survive."

Scott!

Sean and Scott are miraculously still alive

after suffering multiple gunshot wounds.

Come on, man.

Hey, you all right?

Now, their only hope of rescue

is to make their way down miles of treacherous mountain roads.

Gangloff: I've driven that mountain.

There are cliffs along the way.

There's any number of places they could get into trouble.

Here, man.

Call the cops.

Has it got signal?

Man, we just drive till we find somebody, all right?

All right. Somebody to help US.

Scott.

Are you with me, man? Are you okay?

Scott. Please just tell me

we're not gonna die.

Please tell me we're not gonna die.

Dude, where are your keys at?

My truck.

Man, help me. Help me look behind US, man.

Tell me if you see him.

Sean and Scott are shot multiple times.

It's amazing that they're staying conscious,

much less they've got to negotiate a twisting,

winding road down the mountain.

Hey!

Stay with me, man.

The whole way down the mountain,

it's getting darker and darker.

I'm behind the wheel, but, I mean,

my head is ringing so bad.

Like, I can't... Even words or anything --

any sound hurts even worse.

I can't see out of my left eye. I can hear.

Like, Scott's talking. He's worried to death about me.

Man, help me. Help me look behind US, man.

Tell me if you see him.

I saw how much blood Scott had on himself.

I was worried about him as much

as he was worried about me, for sure.

I didn't know if he'd make it.

They know there are houses down at the bottom,

but they have a long way to go to get there.

It's a narrow road,

there are very tight turns,

and there are really tall drop-offs along it.

Did he say anything?

Who?

Him, Ricky.

No, man.

He didn't seem mad or nothing, man.

30 miles away,

giles county deputies are investigating

the disappearance of Randall Lee Smith.

Woman: Hello?

Hello, yes, this is, giles county sheriff's office.

Am I speaking with Ms. Sanchez?

Yes.

Hello, Ms. Sanchez.

This is a follow-up call about your neighbor.

Could you tell me when it was you saw him last?

They have no way of knowing of the murderous attack

that just happened up on dismal creek.

I can't do this.

Look. We're almost there.

No, we got a long way to go still, man.

I can't even see out the windshield anymore.

Come on.

I still got one good hand.

I'll steer.

Go on.

Let's go.

Come on.

Ms. Miller lives about as far in a remote area

as you can get.

She's just about the last house on that road.

Melissa Miller isn't expecting visitors,

not after nightfall.

We've been shot!

Ma'am, please!

Help.

Ma'am, please.

For her to open that door and see two individuals

have been shot, that is probably something that,

she'll never forget.

At the point when we stopped at the house,

and that was our savior, you know, they were,

like, there to help US,

and we were so grateful for that.

Man: All units, all units to dismal creek road.

Code 30, two victims reporting gunshot wounds.

Medevac requested.

Repeat, dismal creek road.

They're on their way, but it might be a minute.

Y'all just sit tight. We'll get you taken care of.

Take care of him.

He's lost a lot more blood.

Who did this to y'all?

Some old dude.

We met him up at the creek.

Up at dismal creek?

Yeah.

Said his name was, Ricky, Williams.

Hey! Come on.

Hey, Scott! Come on.

Still with US, brother?

Yeah. Yeah. Said he's named Ricky.

Hold on just a minute.

Sean and Scott end up at the house of Melissa Miller.

I can only imagine that they're waiting

for more shots from behind them.

They're waiting for Ricky to catch up to them.

For all they know, Ricky is standing right on the porch.

Medic: All right, we're gonna take care of you.

Let me just see the wound.

Okay, okay, okay.

Sir, stay with me. There you go.

There you go.

Hey.

This is the flyer the sheriff was handing out.

Randall Lee Smith.

That's him.

That's the guy.

Sean and Scott are able to identify Ricky from that poster.

I'm Ricky Williams.

Of course, the name on the poster is not Ricky Williams.

It's Randall Lee Smith.

So we have a case here

where a man goes into the woods

and murders two hikers.

And then, 27 years later, having served his time in prison

and returned to the exact same community,

goes to almost the same spot

and assaults two more people along the edge of the trail.

This time, both victims survive.

Sean and Scott are airlifted to a trauma center just in time.

Thank god these boys aren't dead,

'cause he could've killed 'em very easily.

Even when he was at our campsite for hours,

it never crossed my mind that he was a killer

until the first bullet rang out.

Unfortunately, the bad stuff,

the evil guys, they -- they come back, you know?

Man: The shooter is Randall Smith.

Vehicle, a 2000 Ford ranger. Be advised.

Vehicle just 1049ed on sugar run.

After the call went out

that our guys were on the lookout

for the stolen truck,

a Virginia state trooper saw the truck on sugar run road.

He got behind the vehicle.

The truck overturned in a sharp curve

not far from where, the trooper spotted him.

Trooper is with the vehicle.

Suspect is hurt, needs ems.

Units be advised that suspect is being held at gunpoint.

Lawson: I never got to talk to him.

The autopsy on him showed that,

from his injuries from the wreck

he had developed a blood clot

and that that clot had broke loose and went --

went to his -- his heart and killed him,

so he died.

He died in jail.

He died in a cell by himself

and finally, justice got served.

He never did admit why he did what he,

you know, did at the crime scene there in dismal.

No interviews, no statements taken

from Randall Smith on this issue

with him shooting Scott and Sean.

There was no reasoning, no outcome from the courts

on the crimes that he had committed.

I always felt like that this man was a walking time bomb,

and, you know, it happened.

He -- he went off again.

I mean, killing people didn't matter to him.

He done killed two and watched 'em die.

So life didn't mean a whole lot to him.

Given that the two crimes happened in such a similar,

almost identical area, maybe we should be

looking at the location as the main factor here.

It was some attachment that Smith felt

to this particular spot in the woods

that made him act the way he did.

Ours is the magic.

Ours is the power.

Crimes don't happen in random places.

They happen in places for a reason.

And often, it's the place where the criminal feels comfortable.

One of the bullets went in right here by my temple,

and it's lodged in my sinus on this side of my face.

The other bullet went in right here,

right dead center in my chest,

and it's actually lodged over on my ribs over here.

Scott didn't really have any long-term effects either.

The bullets missed his spine,

so he didn't have any problem with that,

and then missed his jugular by a very little amount.

I believe if he had a bigger gun,

the circumstances would be quite different.

Definitely realized, you know,

tomorrow could be the last day, you know.

That's definitely something that I,

you know, Cherish more now.

When I look back on this, I mean, kind of feel like

maybe I was used to take a bad person off the earth.

And if I had to go through a little pain to make that happen,

you know, I'm -- I'm on board with that.