by Danika Stone
“But … we didn’t come this way before.”
“You sure?”
“We’re walking straight. Following the path to Twin Lakes. We’re…” Vale scanned the trees. Her eyes came to rest on the rocky outcrop, and the blood drained from her face.
“What?”
She caught his eyes. “Did we come this way before?”
“I dunno.”
“But you pointed out the tree.”
Ash’s heart began to pound, palms growing sweaty. “I’m the one asking you, Vale. So, do you recognize it or not?”
“I … no. I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”
“But are you sure?”
“Not sure, no. But I…” Vale chewed her lip. “I don’t think so…?”
Long seconds passed. Ash peered up at the forked treetop again. Maybe that’s just how those trees grow. How would I know? I’m no expert. He looked back to Vale, staring out at the forest. The trail waited, growing muddier by the second. “Well, if you didn’t see it before,” he said, “then it probably just looks weird, right?”
Vale nodded. “Yeah.”
“You good to go now?”
Vale tugged the knit hat lower and pulled the strings on her jacket’s hood to tighten it around her chin. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good. ’Cause I’m starving and I don’t have any chips left.”
Vale laughed tiredly. “Priorities.”
“You know it.”
And they walked again.
* * *
It had taken Janelle Holland almost an hour before she realized anything was wrong. Once she’d removed the tick from Eden’s arm, she’d rechecked the class list. That’s when she discovered neither Ash nor Vale were on it. Confused, she’d been about to do another head count when Owen Roast had come running toward her.
“Ms. Holland!” he shouted. “Ms. Holland, I got something on my legs!”
Janelle shoved the list back in her pocket. “What happened now?”
“I was in the woods,” he said, gesturing to the angry red welts that crisscrossed his bare calves, “and I must have stepped in something. It itches like crazy.”
She crouched at his side, inspecting the raised skin. “Stinging nettles,” she sighed. “Hold on. I’ll find you the Benadryl.”
“But it stings!”
“I’ve got some antibiotic cream too.” Owen reached down, but Janelle grabbed his hand before he could touch the skin. “And stop scratching it, Owen.”
“A’right.”
Five minutes later, she had the boy patched up and she tried, yet again, to confirm the class list. “Karl!” she shouted. “Can you double-check on the students? I still haven’t seen Ash and Vale since we arrived.”
“Pretty sure they’re here,” he said. “I had them on my list at lunch.”
“But have you seen them since?”
“Uh … I don’t think so.” He frowned. “I’ll find them.”
“Thanks.”
There were a myriad of challenges that came with controlling a group of teenagers. One by one, Janelle worked through them, frustrated by the worsening weather. The fires were piled high with wood, but it was cold all the same, and the students were unhappy. Herding cats, she thought as Karl Perkins walked up to her. Get one going the right direction and the rest scatter.
Janelle frowned as he reached her side. “You locate Vale and Ash yet?” she asked.
Karl shook his head. “No, not yet.”
“But—”
“I talked to Mike Reynolds, though.”
Janelle’s jaw clenched. If Reynolds was involved, there was bound to be drama. It was hardwired into the boy’s DNA. “And what did Mike say?”
“He says that the last time he saw Vale and Ash, they were picking up garbage at the meadow.”
Janelle blinked. “But that was back at lunchtime.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“That can’t be when we lost them.”
Karl dropped his gaze to stare at his feet. “I … I think it was.”
The fear Janelle had been fighting for the past hour surged with his words. “But you were bringing up the rear of the group,” she said. “There’s no way those kids could have stayed behind if—”
Karl looked up. “I didn’t check the trees. I … I’m sorry.”
Janelle felt the ground beneath her shift, fear hitting her with the strength of a truck. How did I let this happen? “You didn’t check?!”
“They were on the list; I figured they were already in line.”
“But you were supposed to check the trees, Karl!”
“Sorry, Janelle. I was the last person in line, and I followed the main group out. I assumed that we had everyone on the list…” He winced. “I should have checked the tree line, but I thought we were all together.”
“So did I.”
“So, what do we do now?”
Panic pulsed beneath Janelle’s skin. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! With shaking fingers, she pulled a flashlight from her pocket. “You stay here,” she said. “I’m going back to look for them.”
“But it’s almost nightfall.”
Janelle headed toward the trail. “It is.”
“You’ll be hiking in the dark!” he shouted.
“Uh-huh.”
“There are bears out here, Janelle. It’s not safe!”
She glanced back. “I know. But we’ve got two kids out there too.”
* * *
For another hour, Vale and Ash walked, damp cold leaching into their bones. They shouted for help, but no one answered. Vale was beyond tired. Her feet moved on instinct, her mind circling a fear she was only now starting to name. It’s my fault we fell behind. I was the one who’d insisted on picking up the garbage. I made us late.
Exhausted, Vale stumbled on numbed feet. Ash caught hold of her arm, steadying her before she hit the ground. They stood in an unfamiliar forest, the trail a charcoal line that ran away into the darkness on either side of the two of them.
“We got to keep moving,” Ash panted.
“I—I just need a minute.”
“What’s wrong?”
“M-my feet,” Vale said. “They’re freezing. C-can hardly feel my toes. We should stop.”
“Stop for what? There’s nothing here! There’s just trees and rain and—”
“I think we should wait for someone to find us.”
“What?”
Vale cringed. “I—I don’t know where we are anymore, Ash. No one came when we called for help.”
“So that’s it, then!” He kicked at a rock on the trail, and it skittered into the grass. “We’re LOST in the mountains! Well, that’s just fricking great!”
Vale winced. “Someone will find us. We can’t be that off track. Right?”
Ash tucked his hands under his armpits. “How would I know? I’ve never even hiked here before!”
“Neither have I, but we were halfway to Twin Lakes when we stopped for lunch. That was a good four hours ago or more. We should be close … I think.”
“You think? Why don’t you KNOW?”
“Because I haven’t hiked here before. So don’t yell at me about it.” Vale turned away from him, blinking back tears. “We missed the trail somehow,” she whispered. “We’ve been walking for hours. We’re obviously too far away for them to hear us, and we’re on a trail, but not the right one.”
“There’s a couple places where the path forks off into the woods a ways back,” Ash said, “but no signposts. I’ve got to be honest. I’m not even sure we’re following an actual trail anymore. I think this might be a…”
“A game trail?” Vale offered.
“Yeah, exactly. I think we somehow got onto a game trail. So can we go back the way we came? Follow our tracks until we find the right trail again?”
“Not right now, Ash. It’s too dark.”
“So what? We just stay here?”
“For now.”
“But where ar
e we?”
Vale’s heart pounded as she lifted her eyes to the foggy forest that surrounded them. It was like an image from a movie. Swirls of mist wove around their feet, and dark branches reached out with skeletal fingers. The silence filled her with dread.
“I have no idea.”
* * *
Janelle’s heart was in her throat as she hiked the trail, the beam of light flashing up over the muddy path in front of her. Karl counted the kids, her mind chanted. He HAD Vale and Ash on his list! Her foot slipped, and she caught herself before she fell. With a grunt, she stepped back onto the path. Her legs ached, the hike already taking its toll. They must have wandered off sometime after Avion Ridge. Unless they DID go back to the trees. Oh God! What if they—
In the forest beside the trail, something moved.
With a yelp, Janelle swung the flashlight toward it, her left hand jerking to the bear spray on her belt. Through the misty forest, silent brown ghosts flowed past, a herd of deer on the move.
“Jesus,” she panted.
The deer had walked up without her even hearing them approaching. Thank God it wasn’t a bear. The light wobbled. Janelle looked down at her hands, surprised to find them shaking. Her fingers tightened around the flashlight, and she took a deep breath, forcing the terror away. Ash and Vale are out here. If they didn’t bring flashlights, they’ll be hiking in the dark.
With that thought, she turned back to the rapidly disintegrating trail to walk once more.
Ahead of her, the forest thickened. With the rain growing heavier, the difference between the trail on which she hiked and the game trails that wove back and forth across it was growing harder to discern. Twice she found herself in ankle-thick mud. When she checked her position, she found she’d lost the path. Using the flashlight as her guide, she backed up to the main trail, reoriented herself, and then kept walking.
The clouds lowered; the rain came. Together, they leached away the last light of the day, leaving her walking in the dark. Somewhere deep in the forest, an animal roared. With shaking hands, she unhooked the bear spray and flicked off the safety clip.
That was no deer …
* * *
A layer of fear had grown around Ash in the last minutes. This wasn’t a game. It was real. And that meant that he didn’t have any do-overs, no way to escape if things got bad. Not the way he could in a game. The worry that had dogged him ever since Vale had admitted she didn’t know where they were grew with each icy splatter.
No effing WAY! This CAN’T be happening to us!
Standing at the top of a hill, Ash pulled out his phone and shielded it from the rain. Come on, baby. Just one bar of reception! He watched the corner of the screen, but nothing appeared. Swearing, he shoved it deep in his pocket.
Lacking reception, he was no better off than someone with no phone at all. Ash brought his hands to his mouth and blew on them. Even if I got reception, what could I tell Mr. Perkins? That I’m lost in a forest? That there are trees everywhere? Barring the small hill on which he stood, there were no landmarks anymore. The clouds formed a gray ceiling that dropped closer to the ground with each passing hour, fog filling the space in between the trees. He and Vale were alone. They were lost. And the weather was getting colder. Ash shivered as he carefully picked his way down the steep hill, his eyes on Vale, waiting for him at the bottom.
She huddled on the ground next to a large pine tree, a scrubby pile of brush beside her. Every so often, a narrow beam of light bounced through the fog like a lightsaber. Vale brought a flashlight. In the darkness, Ash tripped on a root, then caught himself with cold-numbed hands against a nearby tree.
The light swung upward as Vale jerked in surprise. “Oh, it’s just you.”
“You expecting someone else?”
“It’s not that, it’s…” She pointed the small flashlight toward the darkness behind him. “I thought I heard something moving in the trees a minute ago.” She gave him a weak smile. “Glad you’re back.”
“I’d be happier if I had some good news.”
Vale’s smile disappeared in a heartbeat. “No phone reception up on the top of the hill either?”
“Nope. We can try getting to higher ground tomorrow.” He patted his pocket under the plastic bag. “Turned it off to save the battery. It’s already down to twenty-three percent.”
“It was worth a try. Thanks, Ash.”
“No worries.”
“We should stay together now, though.”
“I didn’t go far,” he said. “I could see you the whole time.”
“I know but…” Vale glanced up at the trees. Flecks of sleet now slanted through the rain, drawing a faint white line along one side of the tree trunks. “There was something in the trees. I just don’t know what.”
Ash grimaced. “This is not the time for ghost stories, Vale.”
“It’s not a ghost story. I really did hear something. It was over in the trees and—”
“Look, I live for zombie games. You are not going to freak me out, my friend. So don’t even try.”
“I’m not trying to freak you out,” she said. “I really heard something.”
The corner of Ash’s mouth twitched. “Know why I’m so good at zombie games?”
“No idea.”
“Dead-ication.”
Vale let out a tired laugh.
Ash glanced at the trees, then back. “Seriously, though. It looks pretty empty to me.”
“Hopefully…”
“Definitely.” He crouched down beside her. The brush he’d seen wasn’t brush at all, but a number of pine branches. “What’re you doing?”
Vale reached up to the tree next to her and selected one of the dead boughs. Evergreens this large often had dried lower branches that no longer got adequate sunlight. Vale grabbed hold—it was still attached, but the dried wood was brittle. She twisted the branch until it came loose from the trunk, then tore it off with a sharp jerk. “We need a shelter,” Vale said. “I’m making one.” Ash stared at her. “You remember what Mr. Perkins said about hypothermia, right?” she said.
“Uh…” Ash laughed. “Might’ve been taking a nap. You mind giving me a refresher?”
“Most people die of exposure long before they die of hunger or thirst.” She pointed at the trees that surrounded them. “I figure if we’re stuck here, we ought to get something built to hunker down in, at least until the storm passes.”
“Build something like what? We don’t have tents.”
“Well, if there was a cave or something, we could use that, but—” She let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not an option, so we’ve got to make something ourselves.”
“But we don’t have any tools.”
“Don’t need them.” Vale pointed to the lower branches of the nearby trees. “Go grab me a bunch of those pine boughs, would you?”
“What for?”
“Just grab the pine boughs. I’ll explain as we build.”
Ash put his hands against his thighs and pushed himself back up. “You got it.”
Cold and aching, he stumbled through the knot of trees, grabbing and pulling at the branches. For a long time he worked in silence. The rain eased up for a few short minutes, then renewed twofold. Water trickled down the side of his collar, soaking the jacket beneath the garbage bag. Ash began to shiver.
“Hurry, please!” Vale shouted, pulling him from his thoughts.
Ash looked up. “What’s that?”
“I said hurry! The weather’s getting worse.”
Ash snapped off another branch, struggling to make his hands work. His fingers felt wooden. “Going as fast as I can.”
“Go FASTER!”
Ash frowned and glanced over his shoulder. Hold your horses, Vale. Around the forest, the sounds of wind grew into a howl as the autumn storm took control of the valley. Sleet blinded him, but still he worked. His hands grew numb, his body racked by shivering as he dragged the pile of branches back to Vale.
“Get more,” s
he said, not even looking up.
Ash headed back into the trees. His stomach let out a growl, and he groaned. What I wouldn’t give for a burger! He was hungry enough he felt sick, but he didn’t stop. The weight on his shoulders grew heavier by the second. They were lost. They were alone. They were in the Rocky Mountains—farther away from civilization than Ash had ever been in his entire life. And I’m so hungry!
Lightheaded, Ash grabbed at a nearby bough, wincing as the needles cut into the palm of his hand. “Ouch!” he yelped.
“You okay?” Vale called, her voice made thready from the distance between them.
“Fine. Just a splinter.”
He stared down at his palm. A single green needle jabbed through the calloused skin, a berry of blood at its base. He took a breath and released it, his panic fading. Well, this is just GREAT. With the edge of his thumbnail he dug the ragged skin away, tugged out the pine needle and flicked it aside.
He glanced back through the trees. Vale was moving the branches into separate piles, organizing them by size. He still wasn’t sure what she was planning as a shelter, but it looked like she might be—
“Ash? You there?”
“Yeah!”
“Hurry, please! I need some more branches.”
Ash grabbed one last branch and tore it from the tree. “Hold on a sec!” he called. “I’ve got a bunch more.”
He hoisted the newly torn boughs up under his arm and dragged them back the way he’d come. Flecks of snow swirled in the air along with the sleet, freezing his hands until they felt like stumps at the ends of his arms. Night’s coming. With the light gone, he could barely see Vale hunched in the shadows. He stumbled, almost dumping the branches directly onto her head.
Vale yelped. “I—I didn’t hear you coming!” She looked into the darkness, then back at him. “I … Were you standing there long?”
“Just got here. The wind’s picked up pretty good,” he said, then nodded to the branches under his arm. “This enough to work with?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Vale stood and wiped her hands on the sides of her jeans, then reached for the branches. She carried them to a nearby tree and dropped them into the pile. “Now it’s just a matter of putting it together. You take this side. I’ll take the other.”
