From the Woods

by Charlotte Greene

  The thought almost gave her pause. For a second there, she’d imagined a time after this, as if it were going to happen. It was almost as bad as imagining what might happen to them out here in the woods. She was surprised to find herself tearing up, glad she was at the back of the group. While it was true that she had to keep hope alive, had to keep going—otherwise why even try?—she couldn’t let herself think very far ahead. It was too painful. Put one foot in front of the other and repeat. That’s all she could do. Later could wait.

  At the bottom of a particularly steep hill, perhaps two hours after they’d left the pool of water, Roz motioned them away from the river and led them over to a clustered group of sizeable, sharp boulders. Long ago, glaciers had covered this entire area, leaving these monstrous stony remnants behind like lost marbles along its path as it receded. Today it gave them perfect cover, and they all collapsed on the ground in the middle of the stone circle, leaning back to rest.

  “Sorry to push you guys,” Roz said. “I was waiting until I saw something like this. I hope you’re not too worn out.”

  “I’m fine,” Jill said.

  “Me, too.”

  Roz smiled. “Good. I think we’ve done close to five miles already, and we have a good deal of daylight left. We keep up this pace, we should reach the road long before sunset.”

  Neither she nor Jill contradicted her. They’d all made the same connections and presumptions she had. They were being followed, maybe watched. They were never going to make it out of here. Still, they could keep pretending it would happen, and who knew? Maybe at least one of them would. More people meant more targets, after all. There was safety in numbers.

  As if reading her thoughts, Roz grabbed her right hand and squeezed it. Fiona met her eyes and smiled, her troubles momentarily retreating. Roz’s eyes were a cool, deep brown, with a slight dark amber ring around her pupils. Despite functioning on about three hours of sleep, the whites were clear, not bloodshot, the expression in them bright, fierce, and alert. Seeing her determination, Fiona warmed from within and leaned in for a quick kiss. Her lips were salty and soft. She was somewhat chaste to avoid embarrassing Jill, but when Fiona pulled away, she saw a glimmer of heat in Roz’s eyes that seemed to hint at what she’d really like to do. It all seemed so far away, so removed, the fantasy of something later, something better that could only happen somewhere else, to someone else.

  “What dreams may come?” Fiona murmured.

  “What’s that?” Roz said.

  “Nothing.”

  The three of them took several long sips of the water. With the river nearby and still easy to follow and refill at will, they could drink their fill now and for the foreseeable future. The water had lost some of its freshness inside the plastic bladder, but it was still cool and refreshing. Roz made them eat another square of the food ration, which Fiona was able to choke down with large mouthfuls of water. A quick memory of her last dinner before this trip—fresh sushi and dumplings—made the last bite particularly hard to swallow. She promised herself that if they made it out alive, she would never eat another ration bar for as long as she lived. In fact, if she had it her way, she’d never set foot in the woods again.

  Jill was still struggling with food, her mouth full of an overly large final bite, her cheeks bulging as she chewed around it. Fiona snickered, and Jill held up a finger in warning, still chewing. Fiona laughed out loud, and Jill clapped a hand over her mouth to keep the bite inside. Finally, she grimaced as she swallowed, holding a hand to her throat.

  “You asshole,” Jill said, throwing a stick at her. “I almost choked.”

  “That’s what you get for being such a pig.”

  “A pig? You think I wanted that crap in my mouth? I was trying to finish it all at once so I wouldn’t heave my guts out.”

  Fiona stuck her tongue out and Jill returned the gesture, the two of them smiling at each other afterward. Despite it all, Fiona was feeling much better now, a little like she had back at the pool. She shouldn’t let herself be distracted, since whatever came for them next would seem the worse for it, but she couldn’t help herself. It was instinctual, after all, to seek the good, to distance yourself from the bad, even in the middle of a personal hell. Perhaps that was the only way people could keep going—by fooling themselves, every so often, and allowing happiness in. Even in small doses, it was worthwhile, necessary, even.

  “Before we go, I wanted to run an idea past you guys,” Roz said. “It might be really stupid.”

  Jill wiped the crumbs from her mouth. “Let’s hear it. We’ve got nothing but stupid to go on.”

  Roz looked back and forth between them, her face creased with uncertainty. Finally, she sighed. “Okay—here it is: I think we should go off-trail.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re already doing?” Jill asked.

  Roz tilted a hand back and forth. “Yes and no. No, we’re not on the actual trail, but yes, we’re following a secondary path—the river.”

  “And they know we’re here,” Fiona added.

  The others stared at her, startled, and she shrugged. “We’re all thinking it. After those last markings, it’s clear they knew we’d come this way.”

  Jill sighed. “That’s true enough. I’ve imagined eyes on us this whole time.”

  After a pause, Roz nodded.

  Fiona agreed. “We all have.”

  “So what’s your plan?” Jill asked.

  Roz picked up a little twig and started drawing a straight line in the dirt in front of them. “Okay, so here’s the river. The trail basically follows it, usually within a quarter of a mile.” She drew another straight line, representing the trail a little to the right of the river and parallel with it. “Right now, the river and the trail go almost due south. Then, in a few miles, they start to head southeast.” She curved both lines to the right. “At the end, they go almost completely east right before the trail ends at the parking lot.” The finished drawing resembled two parallel, hooked L s.

  “Okay,” Jill said. “Got it.”

  “This is the road we’ve been aiming for this whole time,” Roz said, drawing another parallel, jagged line a few inches to the right of the two L s. “The 71B, which hooks up to Highway 69. But down here,” she drew a line underneath the two L s, perpendicular to the two roads she’d drawn, “down here is Highway 14. As you know, that’s a big road—much more traffic. From where we are now, it’s directly south of us.” She made eye contact again. “I think we should head there.”

  “How?” Fiona asked.

  “When the river starts to curve to the east, rather than following it, we cross it and keep heading south.” She drew a little dotted line past the river to the bigger highway.

  “Won’t we get lost?”

  “Not if we’re careful. We’ll have to keep checking the position of the sun. Without a compass, it’ll be approximate, but if we keep our wits about us, not only are we closer to Highway 14, but we’re more likely to see people right away. A lot of cars drive that highway, even at night.”

  She and Jill were quiet, absorbing this suggestion. Fiona couldn’t help but stare at that dotted line. She knew why Roz had drawn it that way—it represented something unknown. Visually, it was obviously dangerous. Logically, however, it had great advantages. If the scale was anywhere close to accurate, and knowing Roz, it probably was, it would shave several miles off their trip and offer them the protection of an unpredicted path.

  “Fuck it. Let’s do it,” Jill said.

  Roz was startled into a laugh. “Yeah? You think so? What about you, Fiona?”

  She smiled. “It’s a great idea.”

  “I knew we kept you around for a reason, Roz,” Jill said, slapping her arm.

  Roz laughed again. “Well okay, then. Let’s get going. We might even make it by dinnertime.”

  Jill groaned. “Don’t talk about food—I’m begging you.”

  The three of them were quickly on their way. Fiona had a little spring in her step now. A
ll along, they’d been doing what the others wanted, going where they wanted them to go. This felt like the first steps they’d made on their own.

  A tiny doubt niggled at the back of her mind, however. If they were being watched, it would all be for nothing—they would simply be followed once they crossed the river. She suppressed this thought at once. It was no use to dwell on it. At least now they seemed to have a better plan.

  They’d been walking for about an hour, their pace steady and almost quick, when Fiona realized that the water was getting closer again. They’d kept about fifty feet from it most of the morning, but gradually, as they continued, it drew closer and closer to them on the right. Finally, they hit its bank, the water crashing and tumbling, moving small boulders with its forceful currents. The rapids here were throwing out splashes and mist, and she tilted her face up to catch the refreshing coolness. It had been growing hotter by the minute, and while she’d avoided dwelling on it, the heat had been bothering her more and more all morning.

  “This is where it starts to curve east!” Roz shouted at them. Even then, Fiona could barely hear her.

  She and Jill nodded. It was obviously too dangerous to cross here.

  Roz started moving again, following the riverbank from a few feet away now. The three of them were completely exposed here, the trees growing some ten or more feet away, and the sun was so bright off the rocks and water, even her sunglasses gave little protection. The river continued to broil and thunder next to them as they walked for several long minutes, the panic she’d been pushing down rising again in her heart. They’d been safer in the woods. Even if those people were literally keeping them in their sights, it would be harder to shoot them in the safety of the tress.

  Roz must have realized this possibility herself, as she turned around and gestured for the three of them to move away from the water again, back into the woods. It was a little quieter here, and they paused to talk.

  “I guess we’ll have to keep following the river for a while yet,” Roz said.

  “I don’t remember the current being this strong when we were hiking that first couple of days,” Jill said.

  Fiona agreed. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “That’s because I have the water stops planned for the whole of the real trail,” Roz said. “We always got water where I know there’s a calm spot. The river divides sometimes, briefly, and in a couple of places, the division close to the trail on this side is more like a stream.”

  “So should we wait for one of those places?” Fiona asked.

  Roz shook her head. “It would be defeating the purpose. Those water stops are pretty clear from the main trail. You might not have noticed them the first couple of days, but you’d probably spot them now, even on your own. Anyone with some woods experience can find them easily.”

  Meaning the people from the woods could watch for them there.

  “We’ll just have to wait until we see something relatively safe,” Roz said. “We’ll tie up together and cross as a group.”

  “With what?” Jill asked.

  “The hammock. We can use my Leatherman and cut it up.”

  “That sounds like it will take a long time,” Jill said.

  Fiona flushed. Jill was starting her old shit again.

  “You have a better idea?” Fiona demanded.

  Jill flinched and had the decency to look embarrassed. “No.”

  “Then let’s keep going,” Fiona said.

  The water was still booming and rumbling to their right. Long, pregnant minutes passed, minutes stretching into half an hour, then an hour, and then, finally, Fiona realized it was getting quieter. For a long while she wondered if she was imagining things. The water was very loud, even from twenty or thirty feet away, though perhaps overexposure was dampening her hearing, like after a loud concert. The trees and undergrowth were thick enough here that she could catch only glimpses of the river, so she couldn’t be sure. A few minutes later, however, the sound of it had clearly lessened. It was almost quiet now.

  Then Roz stopped and turned to them with a smile. “Let’s check it out.”

  They followed her back to the water, where it was immediately clear that things had changed. The banks had widened here, the river spread into something more like a small lake. She could see that the water was moving quickly, splashing over the tops of some rocks, a branch or two sailing past and out of sight almost at once.

  “What do you think?” Roz asked. “Should we try it?”

  “I think so,” Jill said. “If we try to cross somewhere narrower later on, the current will be too strong.”

  “The water’s moving really fast,” Fiona said.

  “But it should be pretty shallow here,” Roz said. “Mid-calf, maybe.”

  The two of them were staring at her, waiting for her to decide. She didn’t want to admit how reluctant she was. Seeing those branches go whizzing by was not remotely reassuring, but on the other hand, she could see the bottom of the water from where they were standing.

  “Okay,” Fiona said. “But I want to get rid of these pant legs. We’re going to get soaked. And let’s tie together somehow in case someone slips.”

  Jill was already in her shorts, but Fiona and Roz unzippered the legs of their pants at mid-thigh and put them in the pack. Roz helped her remove her long-sleeved shirt and retie the bandanas around her injured shoulder. With the sun nearly exposed above them and the summer air heating up, she realized now how hot she’d been and was beginning to look forward to the cool river water.

  In the end, they needed to cut the hammock in half twice. Roz braided it into a loose rope, then looped it through a couple of their belt loops. They had to stand quite close to each other to make it work, but they were also far enough apart that they wouldn’t step all over each other, either. They roped in the same order they’d walked in, with Roz at the front and Fiona at the back, the idea being that should any of them slip, the others would be strong enough together to catch her.

  “Easy does it,” Roz said. “We’ll go as slow as we need to. Try to step where I step, Jill, and the same for you, Fiona—step where she does. If it starts to get too deep, we can always turn around.”

  “Or swim for it!” Jill said.

  Roz took her first step into the water, and Fiona was relieved to see that it barely passed the top of her foot. Her ankles were still out of the water. Jill followed, then Fiona, and within seconds, the bank of the river was behind them. About ten feet out, the water deepened. It rose over the top of her boots, the chill startling and intense despite her protective footwear. When it climbed up her calf, she couldn’t help but let out a gasp of shock, and Jill glanced back at her, smiling.

  “Refreshing, right?”

  “It’s something, anyway,” Fiona said.

  Once the water hit her knees, Fiona realized she was struggling to move her legs against the strength of the current.

  “Guys?” she called out. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “It’s only this deep for another few feet,” Roz called back. “I can see shallower water ahead.”

  Fiona glanced backward, relieved to see that they were more than halfway. She started to turn forward, but movement caught the corner of her eye, and she jerked back around. Roz and Jill must have felt the tug on their connecting line, as they stopped dragging her.

  Fiona continued to watch the trees behind them, wondering if she’d imagined it. The sunlight was throwing sparkling rainbows across the faces of the trees, and they almost seemed to dance across the forest.

  That’s all it was, Fiona thought. Just my imagination.

  Again she turned around, but both Jill and Roz were still staring behind them.

  “I thought I saw—” Jill said.

  “Me, too,” Roz said. “Let’s get the hell out of this river. Fiona, let us help you.”

  Roz and Jill stepped back to her, Jill grabbing her good arm and putting it over her shoulders. Roz stood right next to her and looped
an arm around her waist.

  “Ready?” Roz asked.

  “Let’s do this,” Jill replied.

  They carried her between them and then sloshed forward into the deeper water. Despite the fact that she was being held up, the water rose almost to her waist before receding once again. Jill almost dropped her, but Roz steadied her until Fiona felt the ground beneath her feet again. Here the water was at calf level again, and though the current was dragging at her, she nodded that she was ready to keep going.

  A loud CRACK rang out and splashed the water next to them.

  “Run!” Roz screamed.

  Chapter Twenty

  The three of them splashed forward, Fiona slipping immediately. Jill and Roz dragged her upright again, and they surged together as a group, sending a small wake outward in their progress. Another CRACK rang out, sending a chute of water skyward a few feet to their left. Fiona ducked, instinctively, once again dragging the others down with her. This time Jill lost her footing, and it was all Fiona could do to help her back to her feet with her one strong arm. Roz managed to wrench her forward into much shallower water, and Jill rocketed to her feet, the three of them finally ready to run. The far riverbank was perhaps twenty feet away now, and they loped toward it, water laden and soggy and sending splashing water flying in all directions. Fiona could see the edge of solid ground, and she used all her strength to hurl herself toward it. If they could make it to the trees, they had a chance.

  She saw Roz’s boot hit the earth just as Jill collapsed next to her. Everything suddenly seemed to move in slow motion. Jill dropped all at once. Fiona saw the bloody water and Jill’s face contorted with pain. Roz turned, slowly, back toward them, her face bleach-white. Time caught up again, and Fiona and Roz bent down to drag Jill forward. This time she heard the shot, which whizzed by her face so closely she could feel its heat and wind. Ignoring her injured shoulder, Fiona dragged Jill out of the water, Roz tugging her other arm, and the three of them finally lurched into the woods. They hauled Jill another ten feet and behind a cluster of thick aspens and bushes. Still tied closely together, they had to crouch there near Jill, who was thrashing.