Switchback

by Danika Stone

  “Don’t let me fall.”

  Vale took her place at his side and wrapped one arm gently around his waist. “Now that I can do.” She smiled. Far to the east, the first bands of sunshine painted the valley in shades of gold and she squinted at the rising sun. They’d made it to day three.

  “Thanks, Vale. I owe you one.”

  “After crawling into camp last night in the shape you did? You owe me more than one, my friend. I’m going to have to start charging you for all the rescues.”

  “Maybe you should start a tally.”

  “A tally?” She snorted.

  “Yeah. Survival Squad lives to see another day. Ash zero. Vale three.”

  Vale looked up at him. Her throat ached to see her friend like this, but at least he was back. He didn’t leave me after all. “We’re both alive. Given the challenges, I’d say we’re both three for three.”

  “Guess so.”

  She winked at him. “We’re tougher than we look, Ash. Don’t let the rumors sway you.”

  Ash chuckled. “You ever hear the rumor about the computer virus?”

  “Don’t think so…”

  “Forget it,” Ash said. “I don’t want to spread it all over.”

  Vale began to laugh.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Shit just got real … again.”

  HEC, HUNT FOR THE WILDERPEOPLE

  VALE EASED ASH down so he could sit against a tree trunk near the fire.

  “You okay?” she said.

  He cringed as he reached the ground. “Yeah,” he panted. “Doing all right, I guess.”

  Vale frowned. It was clear Ash was doing anything but all right. He looked like he was about to vomit. “Just rest here a minute,” she said. “I’ll get us some water.” With a final look back, she left him to refill her metal canteen with lake water. Don’t let the bear come back, she silently pleaded. Like this, Ash will be completely at its mercy.

  The early morning lakeshore was calm. A thin layer of ice hugged the rocks on the edge, but it was already melting. Vale dunked the canteen under the surface, keeping an eye on the trees around the lake. She wasn’t the only creature in the woods who was using this lonesome alpine lake for a water source.

  When she returned, Ash was trying to add sticks to the fire, one-handed. Each movement—no matter how small—was followed by a sharp intake of breath. He’s hurt bad.

  “Let me do that,” Vale said, taking the branches.

  “Th-thanks. Just feeling a little cold right now.”

  He coughed, drawing Vale’s attention. Ash looked like he did so many Monday mornings: long hair hanging in his face, eyes ringed by purple smudges from lack of sleep, clothes drooping on his lean frame. But there were other, more worrisome differences. His cheeks were pink and flushed, skin clammy. She put a hand to his forehead, then jerked away.

  Ash’s fever was back.

  “Let’s get you warmed up,” she said, and went back out to gather more wood.

  With the fire rebuilt, Vale sat down next to Ash and pulled out the baggie she’d filled with the last of the berries from her pockets. They were squished and pulpy. (At home she would have turned up her nose at the mere suggestion she eat them. Here in the woods, the sight of them almost brought her to tears.)

  We don’t have enough.

  With the bear feeding in the berry patch nearby, there was no chance to go back for more. Ash coughed, then yelped, and she glanced over at him, struggling to catch his breath.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  Ash shook his head, pain tightening his features. “Hurts … to breathe.”

  “Sorry, Ash. Just … just rest, okay?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Vale frowned as the truth settled around her. Ash can’t walk out. Not yet. We CAN’T leave today. That meant at least another day in the valley with the elk and the bear. It meant another night of standing guard, keeping the fire going to scare the animals away. Ash couldn’t even stand up on his own. Would he be able to walk tomorrow? Fear tightened its grip on her, and her breath grew sharp.

  Vale closed her eyes and took several slow breaths. I’m going to think about it later. For now, I’ve got to help Ash.

  Vale used her thumbnail to cut through each chokecherry and pop out the pit, then poured the half cup of pitted berries into the canteen water. She set it next to the fire while she headed off for more wood. The fire was heat. The fire was hope. It was every bit as important as the water, not just for safety, but as a signal.

  By the time she came back, the water inside the canteen was steaming, the chokecherry pulp bubbling away. The sharp sweet smell made her stomach growl. Vale glanced over to Ash. He was still propped against the trunk, but in the past few minutes, he’d nodded off. His lids were closed, face drawn in pain. Her breath caught. Vale hated to see her friend like this.

  The weather, which had been warm enough yesterday to melt the snow in the little valley, had taken a turn for the worse in the past twelve hours. Leaden clouds filled the sky above the northern ridge, hinting at more rain. Worry was a dark flower inside her, pushing to bloom. If they wanted to be saved, they needed to save themselves. And that fact made everything so complicated! From the moment Ash had wandered into camp late last night, incoherent and broken, she’d been caught between two warring urges: get out of the valley where the bear was, or stay and let Ash heal so he could walk out without doing more damage to his body. Neither option was good.

  Ash’s going to need a lot of help if he’s going to go anywhere …

  Ash began to snore softly as sleep took hold. His head dropped to the side, mouth opening. Bruises colored the skin on his arms and face, and his tan complexion had taken on an ashen pallor. He’d run a fever during the night, throwing off heat like a furnace. It worried Vale like a sore tooth, something she could only ignore for so long before she accidentally touched her tongue to it, and the sharp pain was back.

  If Ash doesn’t get medical help, he’s not going to survive.

  The thought twisted inside Vale’s gut. Her sore ankle was nothing compared to his battered body. There was no way Ash could hike far—not in his condition—but the longer they stayed here, the more likely a confrontation with the grizzly became. Vale checked the chokecherry soup. The scent of it had her mouth watering, but she pulled it aside to cool before she took a sip. Her gaze flicked to Ash. He’ll need some energy if he’s going to get better.

  Ash’s snores grew deeper, and then he suddenly coughed, the unexpected movement jerking him awake. He groaned and opened his eyes to find Vale watching. “Everything okay?” he asked sleepily.

  “Yeah, fine,” she said, then forced herself to smile. “You were just snoring there for a minute.”

  “Ugh … sorry about that.”

  “Totally fine,” Vale said. “My cat snores too, you know.”

  “Mr. Bananas snores?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Ash laughed, then cringed. “Ow … that hurts.”

  “You feeling any better?”

  “I’d be lying if I said yes.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Ash straightened up, but he bumped his damaged arm as he moved. He hissed in pain. “So do I look as bad as I feel?”

  “Worse. You’ve got a, uh…” Vale giggled. “A sanitary pad stuck to your face.”

  Ash’s expression was almost worth the joke. “I’ve got a what?”

  “A pad,” she laughed. “You know? Like … a menstrual pad. That’s what I had to use on your cheek.”

  “What the hell?” Ash’s good hand came up.

  “Stop!” Vale swatted his hand back. “You can’t pull it off.”

  “But that’s gross!”

  “Why is that gross?”

  His eyes widened. “Because … because it’s a fricking PAD!”

  “A fresh one!”

  “But they’re for a girl’s—a girl’s—”

  “Period. You can say the word, you know.”

  �
�Disgusting!”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” Vale snapped. “When you have a period—”

  “Stop! You’re not helping.” Ash lifted his hand and touched the pad. “So gross.”

  “The pad was sealed in plastic. And it was big enough to cover the side of your face. You’ve got road rash all the way down your cheek and jaw.” She shook her head. “Stop being such a baby about it.”

  He stuck his tongue out at her.

  “Really, Ash?”

  “I’m not being a baby,” he said.

  “Are too.”

  “Am not.”

  “Actually, you are.”

  “Ugh.” Ash touched the dressing gingerly, his fingers moving from one end to the other. “You know, it doesn’t feel like a pad.”

  Vale snorted with laughter. “And would you even know what one felt like?”

  “Uh … no. Not really, I guess.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  “I’m not a girl, and I only have a brother.” Ash frowned. “Didn’t you have, like, a first aid kit with you? Couldn’t you have used that?”

  “I did, and yes—I used that too, but the cuts on your face were too big to cover up with the itty-bitty gauze pads. I used what I had, all right, Ash? And the pad was it. You’re lucky it wasn’t your Immortal Defenders sweatshirt.”

  There were several long seconds of silence. Ash smiled, though the expression looked weary. “Well … thanks for thinking of it, Vale.”

  “You’re welcome. But don’t go poking at it, all right? Your face needs some time to heal. Some of those cuts are deep.” She leaned closer. “Do you promise not to touch them?”

  “I promise.” He paused, then said: “I still say you’d be great on a campaign. Honestly. You really would.”

  Vale laughed. “Not giving up on that lost cause, are you?”

  “Nope. You’d be awesome at D&D. You’re good at figuring out what needs to be done, making plans, giving directions…” He waggled the eyebrow not covered by the pad. “And you’re especially good at bossing people around.”

  “Bossing?” Vale laughed. “I don’t!”

  “You do. But it’s all good.” Ash chuckled tiredly, then winced. “Ouch, ow! Ugh … That hurts!”

  Vale’s smile disappeared. “The ribs are bad, aren’t they?”

  “They hurt like a bitch.”

  She frowned. “We’re not going to hike anywhere today.”

  “But—”

  “You need a day to rest up. So do I. We’ll take a bit of time, be ready for tomorrow. Sound fair?”

  Ash’s eyelids slid half-closed. “Uh … yeah. Sounds good to me.” A shudder ran through him. “Wish I wasn’t so cold.”

  Vale tossed more branches onto the fire. “So are you going to tell me what happened to you in the woods?”

  He opened his eyes. “What do you mean, what happened?”

  “You showed up last night and passed out. When I saw your face, I thought maybe the bear had gone after you.”

  Ash laughed again, then cringed. “Ouch. Nope. No bear.”

  “Then what?”

  He nodded to the far southern range. “I climbed to the top of the mountain, and I … I fell. Took a lot of splash damage when I hit the ground.”

  “Sheesh, Ash.” Vale glanced out across the valley. In the distance, early morning clouds obscured the peaks, but she knew their danger. “You could’ve died out there.”

  “Gotta be honest. I’m surprised I didn’t.”

  “You are so lucky.”

  “Not really,” he said. “I never did get the phone call through.”

  Vale’s heart sank. “So that’s what you were trying to do.”

  “Uh-huh. Almost got through, and then…” He shook his head. “Lost the signal and fell.” He glanced over at Vale. “What did you think I was doing out there?”

  “I, um … well…” She turned away. How did you tell your best friend you thought they’d left you behind? That you’d been waiting for him to abandon you for the last few years? That yesterday you’d believed it had finally happened? “I guess I didn’t really know.” She shrugged as she looked out over the valley. It was morning, but the weather wasn’t warm like it had been the day before. There’d be rain or snow in the next hour. “I thought maybe you’d decided I was dead weight and headed off on your own.”

  She heard Ash grunt and turned to find him clutching his ribs as he scooted over to her side. “Wait!” Vale gasped. “Don’t move, Ash. Your ribs—”

  “Are already busted,” he said, then settled down beside her. His face shone with perspiration. “I wouldn’t do that,” he said fiercely. “That’s not me.”

  “Do what?”

  “I wouldn’t leave you behind.”

  Vale felt her throat tighten. “Well … thanks.”

  Ash reached out with his left hand and caught hold of her sleeve. “I’m serious here. I wouldn’t. Okay? That’s a dick move. We’re friends. Right?”

  “Uh-huh.” Vale nodded.

  “Well, friends don’t do stuff like that.”

  Ash’s face was tight with pain, and Vale had a sense that he wasn’t just talking about taking off. She wondered what else he meant. “Guess not,” she said quietly.

  “You’ve got to trust me. I’ll watch out for you, Vale. I will.”

  “Fair enough. But then you’ve got to trust me too.”

  Ash rolled his eyes. “Is this about the pad again?”

  Vale smiled. “Not really. It’s just—it’s everything. Okay? You’ve got to trust me, Ash. I’ve got to trust you. We can work this out together.”

  He squeezed her arm and let go. “Sounds fair.”

  “So you ready for something warm to drink?”

  “Hell, yes. I’m starving here.”

  Vale grinned. “Good. ’Cause this is the last of the soup.” She pulled the canteen from the edge of the fire and checked the temperature with the tip of her finger. Warm, but not scalding. She held it toward his left hand. “You take it,” she said. “Drink it all. You need the energy.”

  Ash didn’t reach for it.

  “What…?” she asked warily.

  “I’ll take half. You take the other.”

  “No. You’re hurt. You should—”

  “I’m not taking it all, Vale. Argue with me and I’ll refuse to drink any.” Ash narrowed his gaze. “So is it a deal?”

  “I … I guess.”

  He took the canteen from her hand. “Good. ’Cause that’s how Survival Squad rolls.”

  And while Ash drank, Vale thought of all the ways she was going to keep the two of them from dying, because there was no question. Their survival was currently resting firmly on her shoulders.

  * * *

  Midday, Vale announced she was going to try her hand at hunting.

  Ash stared at her, confused. His whole body felt like it had been put through a shredder, and Vale was turning into an old-timey woodsman. “I … don’t get it,” he croaked. “Hunt what?”

  “Fool hens.”

  “I don’t…”

  “We saw one when we were near Avion Ridge. They’re birds,” she said. “They don’t panic when you get near them. I figure if I go slowly enough, I’ll be able to walk right up, maybe use a shoelace to snare one, or club it with a stick.”

  Ash frowned as he struggled to remember the bird they’d seen back at the lunch site. In the back of his mind, a brown-and-beige-dappled bird appeared. It had seemed pretty unfazed by the students in the area, but it could still fly. “Wouldn’t it be easier to hunt for eggs?”

  “Wrong time of year,” Vale said. “But we still need to eat. And I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  Ash closed his eyes, letting his thoughts spread to the rest of his body. Truth was, hunger was the last thing on his mind right now. The pain was all-encompassing.

  “Ash…?”

  He opened his eyes to find Vale looming over him. “Uh, yeah?”

  “You kind of p
assed out there for a minute.”

  “J-just resting,” he said. A shiver ran through him. A moment ago he’d been burning up; now he felt like he’d been doused in ice water. “Y-you were saying?”

  “I’m going to try to find something for us to eat, Ash.” Her words were slow, as if explaining to a child. “The berries aren’t enough. We need to keep up our strength. You need to eat. So do I.” She frowned. “I’m going to leave you here by the fire for a bit. All right?”

  “Okay.” His lids slowly closed once more. “I’ll just … wait for you.”

  Vale laughed, though it sounded anxious. “You do that. And call if you need something, okay?”

  “You got it.”

  “Back in a bit.” Vale tossed another log into the fire, then pulled a large stick from the pile next to the shelter, before heading out into the woods. Ash watched her until she disappeared into the shadows, hoping against hope that her suspicions about the spruce grouse were right. His eyes slid closed, and he sent out a silent prayer.

  Please keep Vale safe …

  She headed out in concentric circles around the camp, pushing through the brush as she searched. Ash watched her for two circuits, but sometime in the third, he dozed. One moment he was watching Vale, the next he was floating in the dreamland between pain and sleep.

  Time passed.

  Asleep, Ash rose to the top of the mountain once more. The phone was in his hand, only this time it connected, and for some reason, his father was the one who answered. “Dad!” Ash shouted. “You’ve got to find me! I’m lost in—” And then his sneaker slipped, and he fell. His foot jerked out at the same time he awoke.

  Vale sat across from him. She hunched over the fire, doing something to what looked like a furry pillow, splashed with blood.

  Ash took a breath to speak: “What’re you—” The smell of burning feathers filled his lungs. He coughed, then groaned as a stabbing arc of pain lanced across his ribs.

  Vale jerked up in surprise. “You’re awake again.”

  “Yeah,” he croaked. “What’s that smell?” He fought the urge to cough. “Fricking gross.”

  “I’m trying to get rid of the feathers. Plucked some, but couldn’t get them all out. I figured I’d burn them off. I … I’m not so good at it.” She shook her head. “Sorry.”