Switchback

by Danika Stone

  Ash staggered, and Vale’s arm tightened, grating his broken ribs together.

  “We’re almost to the trees,” she said. “Just a few more steps. We can do this.”

  “And after the trees? Then what?”

  “And then … we make a fire and find water, I guess.”

  Ash lifted his gaze from the ground and looked down into the unexplored valley. His heart sank. There were no Twin Lakes here, no long stretch of Upper and Lower Waterton Lakes either. His heart sank. “This isn’t the Twin Lakes valley,” he said.

  “We’re not going to worry about that yet. For now, we need shelter.”

  Ash shivered. The wind wasn’t as bad on this side of the incline, but with the rain, the temperature was dropping. We need protection. Vale led them down the slope to a knot of trees and leaned him up against one.

  “Just stand here,” she said. “I need a bit more kindling for the coals.” She looked up, frowning. “Ash? You okay?”

  “Y-yeah. F-fine. Just cold.”

  She nodded. “Just … catch your breath. I’m going to find some dry wood.” And before he could answer her, she headed into the trees. The wind whirled around him, tossing raindrops at his face and neck, chilling him to the bone. Damp settled into his limbs. He glanced over to where Vale crouched over her pack, blowing on the coals. He coughed.

  Vale glanced up. “You still doing okay?”

  Ash took a breath so he could answer her and was caught up in another bout of hacking.

  This one didn’t stop.

  The unknown valley grew dark, and his vision blurred; blood rushed in his ears. He tried to breathe, but each cough made it worse. He heard Vale shout, but he couldn’t understand her words. The ground abruptly tilted sideways and—

  * * *

  Vale dropped the smoldering ember in the curl of bark back into the bag and jumped up at the same moment Ash’s body went limp.

  “Ash, NO!”

  Flame forgotten, she sprinted forward, but she wasn’t fast enough. Ash tumbled to the ground next to the tree, his feet kicking out from under him. Vale skidded into place next to him. She put her hand on his chest. Still breathing. But when she looked at his face, her fear returned. He lay flat on his back, eyes rolled back in his head.

  “Oh my God! Wake up, Ash!” Terrified, Vale shook him, but he didn’t move. “Ash? Ash, can you hear me?” She shook harder. “Ash, wake UP!”

  Still there was no response.

  Tears blurred her vision. With the rain coming harder, Vale had been preoccupied with keeping the fire alive. Now Ash was unconscious. Frustration flared—bright and angry—inside her. They’d come so far! This couldn’t be how it ended!

  “No!” Vale screamed. “Not like this! Not now!” She crouched on the ground next to him and tried to pick him up. With a groan, she let go, and he slumped back down. “No, Ash!” she cried. “You can’t just LEAVE me like this!” She tried to lift him a second time, but barely got his head and shoulders off the ground. Above the treetops, thunder rumbled and another wave of rain began, blurring with the tears on Vale’s face. “No, Ash! This is NOT okay!” She shook his arm again, panic rising. “Listen to me! If you don’t wake up, I’m going to have to drag you! And you’re too HEAVY! Do you get that? I can’t just—”

  “Please, for the love of God, stop yelling at me,” he groaned. “I give in.”

  Vale let out a sob and leaned forward, hugging him. The terror that had gripped her loosened slightly. “Oh my God, Ash! You’re awake!”

  “Yeah … feel like crap, but I’m awake. What’re you—?”

  “You passed out. I couldn’t get you to answer me.” She put her hand on his forehead. Her breath caught. “Oh my God! Your fever’s back. We’ve got to get you someplace out of the rain.”

  “Rain?”

  “Yes! It’s raining.” She looked up at the sky, which hung like wool over the mountain peaks. “Can’t you feel that?”

  “I … I guess so … I…” He laughed and then moaned. “It’s never easy, is it?”

  Vale let out a teary laugh. She leaned forward, blocking the rain as she checked Ash’s vitals. He can’t give up. Not now! Not ever! “No, Ash. It’s not. But we’re going to get through this.”

  He reached out for her hand. The gesture brought another wave of tears to Vale’s eyes.

  “You sure?” he whispered.

  She nodded.

  “Good.” He groaned and rolled sideways. “’Cause if Vale Shumway says something’s true, it’s gotta be true. Survival Squad commander. Right?”

  “That’s right,” she said brokenly. “I’m going to grab the pack. You rest here a second, and then we’ll go. The rain’s getting worse, and we need to move. I’m freezing.”

  “Me too.”

  Vale jogged back to the trees. She zipped up the open pack without checking the coals and slid it onto her shoulders. Ash lay, unmoving, but he looked up at her as she returned. “You ready?” she asked.

  “Yeah. On three, right?”

  “Uh-huh.” She put her arms around him. “One … two…”

  Ash cried out, and staggered like an old man, but eventually Vale was able to pull him to his feet. Arm in arm, the two of them took unsteady steps down into the valley. He took a breath and moaned in pain. Vale’s heart ached, but she forced a smile.

  “Go slow, Ash. You’ve got this.”

  “Keep calm and respawn.”

  Vale nodded. “Exactly. Now walk.”

  And with the rain at their backs, a dark bank of clouds looming over the horizon, and no food or water, they headed down into the unknown valley.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “As long as you can still grab a breath, you fight. You breathe … keep breathing.”

  HUGH GLASS, THE REVENANT

  WITH THE RAIN falling harder, Vale tightened her grip on Ash’s belt and guided them down the slippery incline. He had fallen silent in the past half hour—no longer bothering to joke about their predicament—and it had only grown worse since he’d coughed himself unconscious. His brooding silence worried her far more than his goofy behavior ever had. Quiet was decidedly not like Ash.

  “You doing okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  Above them, the rain fell in heavy sheets, too intense to avoid. The garbage-bag rain slickers did little to keep the water out. Twice, Vale was certain she heard an engine humming somewhere in the distance, but the thunder was too loud to be sure. She frowned and kept marching. If there was an air search going on, they’d never see past the clouds that covered the valley.

  They were just inside the tree line when something caught Vale’s eye. “Do you see that?”

  Ash turned. He was wheezing for breath, lips bluish. “Wh-what?”

  “There,” she said. “That dark area at the bottom of the rocks.” She squinted. “You see? It’s right above the tree line on that grassy slope. I think it might be a cave.”

  “M-maybe.” His words were hollow. Indifferent even. Hearing them, Vale felt the band of anxiety tighten painfully around her chest.

  She forced a smile. “I think we should check it out.”

  “B-but—”

  “It’s a cave,” she said. “I’m almost certain of it; we’re going to go there.”

  “W-wait … we are?” He coughed so hard he began to choke. It was cold enough now that his breath appeared in white clouds. Vale frowned. The rain is going to change into snow soon, and we’re both wet. Even with the tattered garbage bags as rain gear, the downpour had soaked them through.

  “Yes, Ash. C’mon. Let’s go.” She tugged his hand. “It’s too slippery to make it all the way down the valley,” she said. “I’m pretty sure we can make it to the cave, though. Let’s check it out. All right?”

  “T-too tired.”

  “Just a few steps, Ash.” She grinned. “Think of it as a side quest.”

  He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even answer her. He just lowered his head
and followed without arguing. Vale’s stomach twisted uneasily. Ash never just agreed. He always had some oddball idea he was focused on, or some joke to make about—

  He doesn’t think we’re going to make it.

  The unexpected thought made her stumble. Ash shouted as she bumped his ribs, his fingers tightening painfully around her shoulder. “Ow!”

  “Sorry!” Vale said. “Wasn’t watching where I was going. I—I’m sorry.”

  He tried to say something, but with his teeth chattering, Vale couldn’t make out what it was.

  “I’ll be more careful.” She pointed up ahead. “See? We’re halfway there.”

  He bowed his head, and the gesture made her want to cry.

  “Just a little bit farther,” she whispered. “Only a bit more. We can do this.”

  Ten minutes later they reached the cave. The small cavern had been hollowed into the mountainside, the result of erosion where two hard layers of rock sandwiched a softer one that had worn away. From a distance, it looked like a black half circle cut straight into the mountainside. Close up, it was an upside-down bowl with an opening along one side. Arriving, Vale lowered Ash to the ground against a nearby tree and headed to the cave to look. Just in case…, she told herself. This mountain wasn’t her home, but it was home to animals. She needed to know if anyone else lived there.

  Vale crouched down and peered inside the doorway. “Hello…?” she called. She took a single, crouching half step inward and waited for her vision to adjust. Eventually she could see again, and she found an empty—though somewhat dirty—space. The entrance was too low to walk through, though the ceiling flared up and away, leaving the rocky floor dry. Piles of leaves—blown in by the autumn winds—cluttered the corners, but it was otherwise bare. Vale set her pack down on the floor and rushed out to get Ash.

  “All good,” she called. “It’s totally empty in…” Her voice faded as she saw Ash slumped over to one side next to the tree. “Ash?” She rushed to his side and grabbed his good hand. It felt like ice. “Ash! Can you hear me?” She tapped his cheek once, then harder. “Oh no, no, no, no!” She slapped his cheek with enough force that it stung the palm of her hand.

  He opened his eyes at once. “What the hell, Vale?”

  “Sorry, I—”

  “You can’t just punch someone!”

  “I didn’t punch you. I slapped you. I—” She let out a teary laugh. “I couldn’t wake you up. You passed out again, I thought—”

  “I’m tired, Vale. Sheesh!” He turned and began to hack. The sound rattled through him, leaving him gasping for air. When the fit ended, he closed his eyes.

  Vale swallowed against a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry for hitting you,” she said in a thick voice. “I really am. I … guess you did just climb a mountain with broken ribs.” Vale rubbed the moisture away from her cheeks, glad for the cover of rain. “You ready to sit up?”

  He groaned but didn’t make any movement to comply.

  “Come on, Ash. Just a few steps. I can’t carry you.”

  “F-fine.” He rolled sideways, and Vale wrapped her arms around him to help him sit up.

  “One more boost should do it,” she grunted as she got ready to lift. “Get your legs under you and one … two … THREE!”

  Ash cried out and began to cough, but between the two of them they got him upright. “Sorry for pulling on you,” Vale said. “It’s just a couple more steps. Hold on … almost there.”

  Ash’s teeth were chattering as they reached the entrance to the cave, and Vale helped him to his knees. He crawled forward on one hand, then collapsed on the dirt floor. Vale considered trying to get branches to make a softer bed, but the most pressing need was fire. She pulled a pile of the leaves from the corner—wrinkling her nose at the sour smell of them—and laid them in a pile near the entrance. She darted into the rain for kindling. The rain was coming down heavy now, angry peals of thunder rolling from one side of the valley to the other. Thunder wasn’t unknown in the fall (though it was far more common in the spring), but it always spelled trouble. They were in for an unpleasant night.

  She glanced over at Ash. He hadn’t moved since she’d brought him inside, but his rattling breath was audible even over the howl of the wind.

  “G-got some k-kindling,” Vale said through chattering teeth. “J-just give me a bit, and I’ll have us warm in n-no time.” She grabbed her backpack and lifted out the curl of unburned wood. She hadn’t checked it since Ash had fallen. (She couldn’t risk letting go of him.) But the pack was still snug and dry. Smiling, Vale set the curl of wood down near the kindling. She took a twig and poked the ashes aside, searching for the burning ember of coal she’d tended all afternoon.

  There was no resulting glow.

  “Oh no…” Vale leaned in and blew directly on the blackened bit of wood. Ashes flew up and around her, but the ember remained a dull black. Outside the cave, the rain was a steady roar. “No way. Not now. This can’t be happening.” Vale blew again and again—panic arriving in time to her gasps—but to no avail. “N-no … It can’t…”

  She put her finger directly into the coals. The embers were hot, but not enough to burn. Tears filled Vale’s eyes. I let it go out. One thing was certain: They were going to die here if she couldn’t get the fire going. A second thought joined the first: There was no way to start a fire, because the ember she’d so carefully protected had completely burned out. In her panic to get Ash into the cave, she’d sentenced them both to death.

  * * *

  The terrain grew rockier the closer the searchers got to the valley with the lake. Grant scanned the tree line warily. This was high country … grizzly country. An encounter here—even with bear spray—would likely result in injuries.

  He lifted his hand above his head, shouting out to the group that followed him: “Eyes up, everyone! Keep alert. Talk and keep talking. I don’t want us running into any bears without them knowing we’re coming.”

  Nervous chatter followed his command. Half an hour later, the trees thinned and the group found themselves standing near a small lake. A crude lean-to was built around the base of one tree. And a campfire—long gone cold—announced that someone had, quite recently, been in residence. Grant walked slowly around the camp as the searchers spread into the trees.

  “Vale!”

  “Ash!”

  “Helloooo! Can you hear us?”

  “Vale! Ash! You there?”

  Grant crouched down to check the tracks and brushed away the autumn leaves that obscured them. One was smaller and lighter. The girl, Vale. The other was larger and heavier … but the right side didn’t match the left. Grant frowned. The boy was favoring one side. He’s hurt. In the trees, the voices of the searchers grew louder, then faded as they spread through the forest. Grant grimaced and stood up. The kids were gone. He wasn’t sure where, since there were tracks throughout the forest, but it was clear they were no longer here. A cold wind needled under Grant’s jacket, bits of sleet joining the rain, and he blew on his hands. Wherever the kids were, he hoped they were warm. Tonight was going to be nasty.

  An hour after the search team had arrived, the drizzle turned to a steady downpour and Grant called them back together. Janelle Holland stood, pale and shivering, at the front of the team.

  “They aren’t here anymore,” Grant announced. “But they were here in the past day or so.” He pointed around the camp. “Tracks are still new. The rain hasn’t even washed them away yet.”

  “So where are they?”

  Grant looked up. It was Janelle again.

  “Not sure,” he said. “But I can tell you right now, the teams need to focus their attention in this valley, and they need to keep looking. These kids are in danger.” He lifted his gaze toward the steely sky. “The storm’s getting worse, and this one doesn’t look like it’s going to let up easy.”

  “So we stay?” another volunteer asked.

  “We’ll split up. Cover the entire valley, see if we can figure out wher
e they went before nightfall. We’ll set up camp here. Stay the night, if we don’t find ’em. Most important thing right now is to locate their tracks and see if—” A crack of lightning appeared overhead, followed quickly by the boom of thunder, making the searchers jump. Grant waited until the echoes faded before he continued. “Once we find the tracks, we can follow them to wherever they went next.”

  “And if we can’t find their tracks?” Janelle asked.

  “Then those kids are gonna be in even worse trouble, ’cause if the forecast for tomorrow is right, this rain is going to turn to snow and then we won’t have any tracks at all.”

  “Until it melts,” a voice at the back offered.

  “Nah,” Grant said. “We’re deep enough into the backcountry now that if they get a good, heavy snowfall, it’s going to last for days, maybe weeks. Possibly more if the conditions are right.”

  “My God…”

  “It’s still light for another hour,” Grant said. “Let’s get looking while we can. These kids need our help.” He peered up at the clouds. The late afternoon sky was already darkening. “And let’s do it fast.”

  * * *

  Oh my God! I let the fire go out!

  Vale crawled to Ash’s side, her throat aching. “Ash?”

  He looked up groggily. “Y-yeah?”

  “I … I need to tell you something.” Her voice broke. “I’m sorry, but—” The words caught in her throat.

  “Wh-what—” Ash tried to answer, but it set off a bout of coughing. It expanded until he was curled over—gasping for breath—and ended in rasping bellows. His face was flushed, cheeks sweaty.

  Vale scooted to his side. “Shhh … Just breathe. It’ll be okay.” She put her hand on his forehead. The feverish heat under his skin felt like fire. “Hold on, I’ll grab the pills.” She pulled out her water canister and walked to the edge of the cave, finding a steady trickle of water that poured from the ledge. Outside, the rain came down in waves so heavy that the trees beyond seemed to shimmer and fade, before popping back in focus. When Vale had half a cup of water, she returned to the first aid kit and popped out the last two pills.