by Danika Stone
Ash’s laughter faded as his stomach churned. Suddenly the water he’d swallowed didn’t feel so good in his stomach. “That’s … not so good.”
“No. But hopefully it won’t come to that.” Vale finished filling her bottle and took a long drink. She let out a happy sound of relief. “That’s so good. You don’t have a chocolate bar hidden in that pack somewhere, do you?”
He groaned. “I wish! I’m so hungry, I’d kill for a Mars Bar.”
“I’d sell my best friend for a milkshake.”
“Me?” Ash said in mock horror.
Vale giggled. “Of course. We’re talking an honest-to-God milkshake, right? You seem like a fair trade.”
“Ouch!” He thumped his chest. “Right in the feels.”
Vale snorted with laughter.
Ash grinned. “Don’t feel bad. Truth is, I’d sell out all my friends for a burger. You included, Vale.”
She laughed. “Not just any burger, though: It’s got to be a meal! How about a Teen Burger, fries, and a root beer float? A bacon cheeseburger sounds like heaven right about now.”
“Man,” Ash said. “That would be amazing!”
“It really would. When we get out of here, A&W’s going to be my first stop.” Vale’s stomach made an audible gurgle, and she laughed. “But for now, we’ve got water. That’s a start. Right?”
“A good one.”
Ash wasn’t sure how it had happened, but things felt good again. They weren’t safe—and this wasn’t Twin Lakes—but at least they had each other to rely on.
“Well, I don’t know about you,” Ash said. “But I’m cold.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Vale lifted her face toward the sky. Around them, the ground was still covered in a thin layer of snow; more was falling. “We’re going to have another dump of snow overnight. We should make a fire. Dry off if we can.”
“How does that foil trick you talked about work?”
“I’ll show you.” Vale held out her hand. “Can I have one of those gum wrappers?”
“Sure.”
Ash found them in the bottom of the bag and unwrapped a stick of gum. His mouth flooded with saliva at the mere thought of it. He wanted to swallow it—to eat every single stick that he had left—but he forced himself not to. Instead, he took out a stick and held it toward Vale.
“Here,” he said. “It’s not a meal, but it tastes good.”
“Thanks, Ash.” She popped the gum into her mouth and sighed in pleasure. “Sooo good.”
“I know, right?”
She groaned. “I’m still hungry, though.”
“Me too.”
“Fire first. Then we’ll think about food. We’ve got to hurry; the snow is starting to stick.” Vale headed to the nearby trees, searching the lower branches one after the other. She muttered to herself as she worked: “Should’ve brought a book. Then at least we’d have some kindling. Ugh! Just need something that’ll burn…”
“What’re you looking for?”
She looked back at him. “I need some old-man’s beard.”
“Some what?”
“It’s a kind of lichen that grows on the branches of trees.” She reached up and tugged a handful of black tangles from the branches, then held them out to Ash to see. “There’s this one and another kind of moss, bright green. Both are good kindling.”
“On it.”
Ash moved around the lake, grabbing bits and pieces. When he had a handful, he headed back to where Vale was sitting, a pile of moss, twigs, and a few larger branches neatly stacked beside her. She looked up as he arrived.
“There you are,” she breathed, then glanced at the forest behind them. “Stay close, all right? I think there’s something in the woods.”
“Deer again?”
“Don’t think so,” she said. “It sounded big.”
“Another cougar?”
“I hope not, but it’s … it’s something.”
Ash dropped his moss and lichen into the pile next to her. “Then we’d better hurry up with this fire.”
She nodded and pulled out the flashlight, then popped out the battery. “We’re going to make a prison lighter.”
Ash chuckled. “You’ve been to prison, huh?”
“No, but I read books and I watch TV. You should try it sometime,” she teased. “Get out of the basement once in a while.”
“You know me. If it’s not a game, I’m not interested.” He winked. “You used to be exactly the same.”
“Yeah…”
“You could still get involved. D&D is great. It’s hands-on and—”
“You know,” Vale said, interrupting. “Books might not be your thing, but there’s this show called Orange Is the New Black—” Vale put the kindling into a little pile with the lichen on the bottom and a small tripod of twigs on top. “Anyhow, they use prison lighters in the show. I remember seeing a YouTube video on how it actually works. All you need is a battery and a bit of foil.” Vale took the gum wrapper and folded it in half, then carefully tore a half circle from the center so that only a thin bit of foil held the two ends together. “You let the foil touch either end of the battery and…” Vale pressed the two ends down. “Oh no!”
“What’s wrong?”
“I tore through the gum wrapper. It doesn’t have a connection now.” Vale held out her hand. “Can I have another wrapper?”
Ash handed her the second of the three wrappers. Vale went through the same process of folding and tearing. She worked methodically, her eyes focused on the line of foil. The valley was growing darker by the second. Vale didn’t seem to notice.
“Let’s try that again,” she said quietly, then pressed the two ends of the foil on the terminals of the battery. Seconds passed … half a minute … Nothing happened.
Ash cleared his throat. “Are you sure that—”
“Bingo!”
A small flame danced in the center of the foil. Ash stared at it in awe. It was so small, but it held the potential of heat and safety. As he watched, Vale lit a piece of lichen, then another. The flames greedily spread through the green furry layer to the wooden twigs. When this held, she added bigger pieces, and then full branches. Soon there was a cheery fire dancing in front of them.
“Wahoo!” Ash hooted. “That was fricking AWESOME!”
“Thanks,” Vale said with a grin. “I’m glad it actually worked.”
“You hadn’t tried it before?”
“Nope.”
“Cool, cool! That’s pretty impressive.” Ash held out his hands, sighing as heat spread into them. “You got some mad survival skills there, my friend.”
Vale snorted. “You’ve got skills too, Ash. You found water, didn’t you?”
“I declare us…” Ash stood and raised his arms. “THE SURVIVAL SQUAD!” Birds burst into flight from nearby trees at his booming voice. “Commander Valeria Shumway and her trusty second, the illustrious Ashton Hamid … questing into unknown lands!”
“Is this another attempt to get me to join your Dungeons & Dragons group?” Vale said. “’Cause I don’t—”
“Zerging their way through the dangers of the nether realms on a campaign to find CIVILIZATION!”
Vale’s giggles turned into cackles, and then hoots. Ash grinned and began to laugh. Suddenly they were both cracking up, the sound echoing joyously through the clearing with the crackling fire. It was snowing in the forest. They were lost. They were hungry. But for the first time since they’d been caught in the rain the night before, they were warm. Vale grinned at him.
“So we’ve got fire,” Ash said. “Shelter’s next, right?”
“I’ll start the lean-to if you get the branches.”
“Sure thing. And I’ll pay for the burgers if you hike out of here to pick ’em up.”
Vale laughed. “It’s a deal, Ash.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I have made fire!”
CHUCK NOLAND, CAST AWAY
VALE HAD AN armful of branches when she heard Ash gasp. Sh
e spun around so fast she almost dropped them. “What’s wrong?”
Ash stood slack-jawed a stone’s throw from the half-constructed lean-to, his tall silhouette traced by orange bands of firelight. “Geez. Would ya look at that?” He dropped his branches to the ground and pointed upward.
She lifted her chin, searching for a cougar in the treetops. Nothing there. Vale’s gaze rose higher, caught by something in the dark sky. Her eyes widened in shock. In the time they’d been gathering wood, the clouds had parted.
“Oh wow…,” she whispered.
The night sky glittered with starlight. Unlike the dimmed view Vale got from her backyard in the city, the mountain perspective was breathtaking. A million stars shone like diamonds strewn across a black velvet cloak. The Milky Way, usually a smudge in the darkness when Vale saw it from her window, was awash with pinpricks of dancing light.
“They’re so bright,” Ash said. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“Me neither.” Vale had gone camping before, but never in the backcountry. The KOAs where her family stayed were glorified parking lots with bathrooms and cooking facilities, streetlights on all the corners. Here, a thousand stars she’d never noticed now vied for her attention. The sight of it was dizzying.
Ash took a step away from the fire and staggered. “It feels like … like I’m going to fall up, or something.”
“Up?”
“Seriously, though. It’s weird, Vale. The sight of it … makes me feel stoned. You know?”
Vale giggled. “Uh … nope. I wouldn’t know.”
Ash laughed. “Okay, well, it doesn’t look real somehow. Like it’s a special effect from a game or something.”
“Maybe it’s that we’re used to the light pollution.”
“Guess so.” Ash turned in a slow circle. “This is beautiful. Crisp. Bright. Weirdly … perfect somehow.”
“Agreed.”
They stood in the darkness, the scent of pine and wood smoke surrounding them as they stared up into the vaulted dome of the sky. They might have stayed like that for far longer, but a sound in the bushes tore Vale’s attention downward.
“Did you hear that?” she hissed.
“Hear what?”
“That. The sound over there.” She stared into the sooty black beyond the firelight. “Something’s moving in the trees again.”
“Like … a ghost?”
“No, not like a ghost, Ash! This is real life, not some game we’re playing.”
He let out a nervous chuckle. “Right. Sorry. I…” He cleared his throat. “That just kind of popped out. So, what was it?”
“I don’t know, but I think it might be the animal I heard in the trees when we were gathering wood.” Vale backed toward the bonfire. “It’s back … and it’s closer.”
“Where? I didn’t hear anything.”
“By those two big trees.” The burning wood popped loudly, making Vale jump as sparks rose into the air. “Hold on. I’m going to grab the flashlight.”
“You can’t!”
“Why not?”
He gestured to the fire. “You said we needed to save the battery so we could use it as a lighter.”
“Right, but I need to know if—”
“Just tell me where it is,” he said. “I’ll check it out.”
“Ash, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It’s probably nothing.” He winked. “And we’ve established it’s not a ghost. So where’d you hear it?”
“By that bush over there by that bunch of pine trees,” she said, pointing.
“Big or small?”
“I couldn’t tell. It moved the bushes … but it sounded big when I heard it before.”
“Can you see it now?”
“Er … Not clearly. But—” Vale squinted. “There! Yes. Something moved over there by those two trees. You see the dark shape? There’s something behind that bush. It’s moving around in the shadows.”
“Uh-huh … Yup. Got it.” Ash reached down and took hold of the unburned end of a large stick. He pulled it from the fire, shook the embers from it in a spray of sparks, and lifted it above his head like a makeshift torch. “Hold on a second.”
“Wait!” Vale cried. “You can’t just walk over there!”
“I can’t just stay here and do nothing.”
Vale stared in horror as Ash headed into the darkness. Long seconds passed. The shape in the shadows was no longer moving. Vale took a hesitant step forward. Is that something by the two trees? She took another step. It looks like something, but—
With a shriek, Ash turned tail and bolted back toward her, torch held high. Vale screamed. There was no place to go. No place to run!
Ash cackled as he reached the firelight. “Do NOT go over there!”
“What?!”
He dropped the wood back into the fire, leaned over, and put his hands against his thighs, his laughter growing more raucous by the second.
“Seriously, Ash. It’s not funny!” she shouted. “What is it over there?”
He looked up and grinned. “A skunk. And if he wants to camp out in those bushes, I say we give it to him.”
Vale looked over to the shadows, then back to Ash. A smile slowly crossed her face. “A skunk?”
“Uh-huh.” He grinned. “Not a ghost or a goblin or a bear or a cougar. Just a good ol’ skunk.”
Vale giggled. “Figures.”
“Oh! And I thought of a joke while I was creeping around in the dark.”
“Of course you did, Ash.”
“You want to hear?”
“Sure.”
Ash nodded. “Why do you always find demons in the same game level as ghouls?”
“No idea.”
“Because demons are a ghoul’s best friend.”
And with that, Ash and Vale began to laugh.
* * *
Even after the new lean-to was finished, Vale couldn’t get rid of the feeling that they were being watched. Twice she turned, certain that something waited in the darkness, but the bushes were silent.
Nerves strung taut, Vale took a walk around the fire’s bright perimeter, searching the shadows. Nothing there. A few minutes later, the skunk waddled out of the bushes. Vale and Ash scrambled back out of its way. It strode past the camp as if they weren’t even there, took a drink from the lake, then headed off in search of a quieter abode. Still, Vale’s uneasiness lingered.
It’s probably nothing, she told herself. Just creeping myself out.
She sat beside the fire and stretched out her legs, letting the warmth seep into her aching limbs. They’d walked as far today as they’d walked yesterday, but without food. The pain of hunger was an unending ache in her stomach. She lifted the water bottle and drank deeply. For a moment, the pain subsided, but her lightheadedness stayed.
Again, the sense of being watched returned and Vale looked up. She caught Ash watching her. “Something wrong?” she asked.
“No, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I know you hike and all that, but have you ever gone camping in the woods like this before?”
“Camping, yes. But certainly not like this.” She gave a weary laugh. “This is nothing like the KOA.”
Ash tossed another stick onto the fire. “The KOA?”
“Kampgrounds of America—misspelled with a K,” Vale said. “It’s pretty fancy, actually.”
“Fancy, huh?” Ash laughed. “I could do with some of that right about now. This whole overnight trek was my first camping trip. I’ve never stayed anyplace rougher than a Super 8.”
“Really?”
“Yeah … my mom’s just not into the whole camping thing. She likes everything neat and orderly.”
“How about your dad?”
Ash’s smile disappeared between one breath and the next. “I, uh … Not sure. Never asked him.”
Vale frowned. “But surely you must have talked about it at some point.”
“Nope.”
“But…” Her words faded uncert
ainly. There was more to this story. She could see it in Ash’s hunched shoulders and the way he stared at the fire. She wanted to ask more, but didn’t dare. Vale obviously knew his parents were divorced—there’d never been a “Mr. Hamid” in the picture in all the years they’d been friends—but she’d never once heard Ash talk about his dad. During a decade of hanging out, his absent father had never once come up. Now he had.
They sat in silence. Vale hardly dared to breathe. Just great, Vale. You’ve really put your foot in your mouth this time, she could imagine her father saying.
Ash looked up. “When my parents split up,” he said, “Leo and I stayed with Mom. So … my dad wasn’t around so much.”
“Sorry about that.”
He snorted at some private joke. “Oh, don’t be sorry. My dad’s a dick—always has been.”
Vale frowned. Ash so rarely spoke of his father; she didn’t want to say the wrong thing.
“Anyhow. My mom’s allergic to bee stings, so she doesn’t like the outdoors that much. She just…” Ash shook his head. “She doesn’t. So I never went camping when I was a kid.”
“Well … that’s cool, I guess.”
He side-eyed her. “Cool?”
“I mean, for someone who’s never camped before, you’re doing pretty awesome.”
“Thanks … I guess.”
“No, really, Ash, I—I mean it. I—” Vale laughed. “Sorry, it came out weird. I … I’m making it worse. Aren’t I?”
“Nah.” He smirked. “You’re usually so pulled together, I kind of enjoy you blurting things out. It’s…” He waved his hand as if trying to find the right word. “Refreshing.”
“Refreshing, huh?” Vale giggled. “My dad hates it. Says I’m ‘unladylike’ when I say things without thinking.”
“Your dad sounds like a dick too.”
“No, he’s really not,” Vale rushed to say. “He’s a good guy, just … kind of old fashioned.” She sighed. There was more to this story too. Like the way her father seemed unable to acknowledge her sexuality. Or how she never really felt like she could talk to him honestly about her feelings. “My dad and I have our issues,” she said stiffly. “It’s … it’s weird. We can’t talk. Or we can talk, but there are times when Dad doesn’t really listen.” She cringed. “Sorry. TMI.”
