by April Henry
Dr. Paris’s expression didn’t betray her thoughts. She was tall, probably as tall as Natalia’s father. Her thick dark blond hair was pulled back into a messy bun. Her eyes were the color of faded denim. Her gray turtleneck was topped with a scarf in shades of blue and green.
She looked nothing like Natalia’s petite, dark-haired mother. Her mother, who was out in the waiting room, probably anxiously twisting her hands. Her mother, who couldn’t help her. No one could.
“Why don’t we both sit down,” Dr. Paris said, taking her own suggestion as Natalia sat in a matching dark leather chair. “Do you know why you’re here, Natalia?”
“My parents made me come. Because I don’t really sleep anymore.”
“If they hadn’t made you, would you have come on your own?”
“No.” She surprised herself by being honest. “I just want to be left alone.”
“Is there anything else your parents are concerned about besides you not sleeping?”
“I’m not doing that great in school.” Natalia was always on the lookout for danger. It was more than just checking and rechecking to make sure the stove was off at home. When her mom drove her to school, she watched oncoming cars, sure they would swerve into their lane. At school, the sudden slam of a door would become a gun shot.
Dr. Paris’s face remained calm. “And why do you think you’re having these experiences?”
Natalia gritted her teeth, suddenly angry. The anger swelling her veins felt good. It made her feel powerful. No longer lost and afraid. “My mom must have told you what happened. You must know.”
“Why don’t you explain it to me?”
“My little brother died in a fire four months ago. Conner died, and it was all my fault.”
“Why was it your fault?”
“Because I did everything wrong. I’m the one who started the fire. I’m the one who couldn’t put it out. I’m the one who tried to hold him out the window. And I’m the one who dropped him and broke his neck.” Most days Natalia felt like she had really died that day, too. That she was dead and no one else knew it yet.
Her breathing had sped up. Her muscles were tight. Thinking about Conner made her feel like her heart was going to explode.
“Natalia!” Dr. Paris said.
Natalia was vaguely aware it wasn’t the first time the psychiatrist had said her name.
“Natalia, I need you to tell me five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.”
“What?” She was sinking deeper into herself and could barely hear her.
“Tell me five things you can see. Right now. Go!”
“Um.” Natalia refocused. “My hands, a box of Kleenex, your scarf, the blinds, and um, that photo of a flower.”
“Good. Now named four things you could touch.”
“Okay.” Natalia tried to find new things to mention. “My jeans, the wooden arm of this chair, the coffee table, that silver paperweight on your desk.” Each answer took her out of herself just a little bit more. And by the time she was down to one thing she could taste—she picked the blue pack of Trident lying on the desktop—her heart and breathing were almost back to normal.
“You might already know this,” Dr. Paris said, “but what you just experienced was a panic attack. Panic attacks, anxiety, insomnia, flashbacks—those are all classic signs of PTSD. Post-traumatic stress disorder. I believe that’s what you have.”
“Doesn’t that just happen to soldiers?”
“No. It can happen to anyone who has been through a trauma. Your nervous system has gotten stuck in overdrive. So your muscles are always tense, your breathing is always sped up. Your nervous system is trying to prepare you for an emergency that isn’t actually happening. We can unstick it. But to do that we’re going to look at what happened that day.”
Natalia was already shaking her head. “I try not to think about it. Not ever.”
Dr. Paris tilted her head. “Does it work?”
A silence hung in the air before she finally admitted the truth. “No.”
“A lot of people with PTSD think they’ll be fine if they just don’t think about it. So they put what happened in a suitcase and then put the suitcase high on a shelf and close the door. But the reality is it still comes back. And back. And back. That’s why you’re having nightmares and sleepwalking. But if we take what happened out of the suitcase and look at it, then we’ll be able to pack it up and really put it away. If you just shove it in the suitcase, you can’t really close it.”
“I just want to go back to normal.” Her voice broke.
“I’ve got some bad news, which is also good news. Do you know what caterpillars do in a cocoon?”
Natalia resisted the sudden urge to roll her eyes. She could feel the cliché coming. “They grow wings.”
“No. They dissolve.”
She blinked. “What?”
“They become completely liquid. Then the cells reconfigure themselves into something totally different. Into a butterfly.”
Natalia absorbed this. She couldn’t decide if it was gross or cool. Maybe both.
“Trauma does the same thing. So if you’re hoping you’ll be like you were before, you’ll wait forever. You’re going to become something completely different.”
CHAPTER 22
DON’T PLAY DEAD
4:01 A.M.
WYATT GOT TO HIS feet in one fluid motion. Standing tall, Wyatt looked the mama bear directly in the eye. In a strong, firm voice, he said, “Get out of here, bear!”
Marco clamped his hand around Blue’s snout. Darryl pushed Zion behind his back.
In a softer voice, Wyatt warned them, “No screaming. No sudden movements. And whatever you do, don’t run.” His eyes never wavered from the mama bear. “Slowly stretch out your arms to make yourself look as big as possible. If you’re wearing a coat, unzip it and hold it open.” Out of the corner of her left eye, Natalia could see him following his own advice as he spoke. “Bears normally stay away from humans, but there’s the fire, and she’s got her cubs.”
Time stretched like taffy while the bears and the humans stared at each other. The three animals were the color of midnight, the only lighter patches of fur around their snouts. Natalia’s heart hammered in her ears as she fixed her gaze on the mother bear. The bear’s eyes were as big as chestnuts, gleaming in the pulsing radiance from the fire.
On her knees in the bivy bag, Natalia suddenly felt dizzy. She swayed involuntarily.
The mama bear made a woofing noise. Saliva glistened on her big, white teeth. She snapped her jaws, biting the air. Her cubs shifted anxiously back and forth.
“She’s going to charge!” AJ’s voice shook.
“I don’t think so.” Wyatt slowly moved behind Natalia. He stepped over her bent legs until he had one foot on either side. His knees pressed into her shoulder blades, steadying her, keeping her from falling over. “She doesn’t want a fight any more than we do. She’s just afraid and trying to intimidate us.” He raised his voice. “Go away, bear! Go away!”
For an answer, the mama bear growled and laid her ears back. Blowing and snorting, she swatted the ground with one front paw.
“Calm down!” Wyatt ordered. “We’re not going to hurt you or your cubs.” In a softer voice, he said, “If she does attack, whatever you do, don’t play dead. Try to hit and kick her in the face and muzzle.”
Suddenly, the bear started to gallop toward Natalia.
Now there were only a dozen feet between them. Natalia’s heart seized in her chest. Her legs were still bound up by the bivy bag. This was going to end the way her dreams always did, with blood and terror.
Seven feet.
“No!” Natalia shouted. “No! Go away!”
Wyatt’s commands joined hers. Then somehow, with his strong arms assisting her, she was on her feet.
Three feet.
The bear was close enough that Natalia could smell her, a sweet
musky smell. Soon those heavy jaws would close on her flesh. This was it, then.
But at the last second, the mama bear pivoted on one huge paw, turned, and ran back toward her cubs. Bumping and shouldering them ahead of her, she pushed them back into the trees, away from both the fire and the people.
And then all three bears were gone, as if they had never been. As if they had just been another of Natalia’s bad dreams. Over the years, the nightmares had lessened, but never completely left her.
For a long moment no one stirred. Then everyone began to talk at once, exclaiming and even laughing nervously in relief.
AJ exhaled noisily. “That was close!”
“She was trying to bluff us,” Wyatt said. “Trying to make sure we stayed well back before she took off.” At some point he had wrapped his arms around Natalia, and now he gave her a long squeeze. His soft lips touched the back of her neck, and for a few seconds she forgot everything else. Then he let her go. He started pushing down the bivy bag so she could get out.
Lisa was shaking her head. “Maybe it’s actually a good thing we don’t have any food.”
“And that the bears didn’t think I smelled like barbecue,” Ryan added.
Darryl scrubbed his face with his hands. “The only thing we probably smell like is sweat.”
“Were those grizzly bears?” Zion asked, wide-eyed.
“Black bears,” Wyatt said. “And black bears are mostly scared of you.” He turned, to Marco. “Good thing you managed to keep Blue quiet.”
“And that he’s such a good dog,” Susan crooned, moving closer to scratch behind his ears.
Feeling stiff and sour-mouthed, Natalia finished freeing her legs from the bivy sack. On the outside, the sack was slick with dew, the way her skin was now covered with a fine sheen of sweat.
“Well, I guess we’re all wide-awake now,” Wyatt said. “Might as well get ready and get back on the trail.”
The sun hadn’t yet broken over the horizon, but it was light enough for Natalia to notice the exhaustion etched on people’s faces. And to see tatters of smoke eddying through the tree trunks.
Ignoring the pain of the popped blister, Natalia thrust her feet into her boots. After tying her laces, she pulled on her headlamp and switched it on. Scratching a mosquito bite on her arm, she checked to make sure no one else was using the trench Wyatt had dug behind a tree before making for it.
When she came back, people were shoving feet into boots and pushing things back into packs and pockets. With Trask already on his back, Wyatt was looking at the map, illuminated by his headlamp.
“Where are we exactly?” She stifled a groan as she shouldered her own pack.
He pointed, then traced a route with his finger. “We’re going to have to cross a creek here, then we’ll gain some elevation, drop back down again, and then skirt this little lake. After that, it’s only another three miles or so until we hit a road.
Natalia picked out Basin Falls on the map. It didn’t look like they had come very far. “Are we even halfway there?”
“Maybe a little more.”
That didn’t seem like nearly enough. Everyone was hungry and tired. Tired to the bone.
Trask was fussing, arching backward, his face creased into an angry frown. He must be hungry as well as tired. Fishing in her pocket, Natalia found the chunk of KIND bar she’d saved. She held it out to Lisa. “Is it okay if I give Trask this?”
Lisa put her hand on her heart. “That would be really nice of you. Thank you.”
As Trask reached for it with his chubby hand, Natalia thought of Conner. For the first time, the memory of her little brother wasn’t as sharp as a blade.
“We need to start moving,” Wyatt said. “The wind is picking up.”
He was right. She felt the wind push her hair back from her face.
Which meant it was pushing the fire straight toward them.
CHAPTER 23
LIKE A ZOMBIE
4:33 A.M.
THEY SET OFF AGAIN. Wyatt led the way, occasionally pulling the map and compass from his pockets. At first the trail was thin, just a faint scuffed line winding among the trees. Would they even have been able to keep to it in the dark?
“Where do you think Jason is?” Natalia asked Wyatt after they had been hiking for about forty-five minutes. They had seen no sign of him. It felt like they were alone in the world—just them, the trees, and the fire trying to catch up to them.
“Are you worried he’s going to do something to us?” Wyatt asked. He reached out and squeezed her hand. She still felt the tingle of his touch after his fingers fell away. “I’m guessing he’s probably just trying to hightail it out of here.”
The trail, wider now, ran parallel to a creek, bordered by pink, white, and yellow wildflowers. The sun hadn’t yet lifted above the trees, but it was already warm.
Natalia lifted her hair off her nape. “That breeze feels good.”
Wyatt’s mouth twisted. “I wish it were in our faces, blowing the fire away from us.”
“It’s great to be able to actually see again,” Darryl said from behind them. “And I’m sure Zion’s glad he no longer has to be my Seeing Eye dog.” Blue whined and then butted Darryl with his head. He pushed the dog’s nose away. “Sorry, boy, I shouldn’t have said dog. And I swear I don’t have any food.” He looked at the rest of them. “I mean, none of us do, but I’m the one he won’t leave alone.”
“Maybe he smells crumbs or something,” AJ said. “Don’t dogs have a really good sense of smell, like five hundred times better than a human’s?”
Darryl shrugged. “I did have a granola bar in my pocket yesterday. But dogs don’t like granola bars, do they?”
“Maybe if they get hungry enough they do. Sorry he’s bugging you so much.” Marco’s voice was hoarse from coughing. “And, Blue, I promise I’ll buy a steak when we get back to civilization.”
“Poor guy,” Susan said. “Poor doggy.” She knuckled the top of his head.
Zion appeared at Natalia’s side. “Here!” He thrust a fistful of wildflowers at her.
She was surprised. “Oh, are these for me?”
He nodded, not meeting her eyes. “For helping us.”
She took them. The stems were crushed, the heads drooping. “Why, thank you.”
Earlier, Wyatt had pointed out that Natalia hadn’t been much older than Zion when the fire happened. Now she did the math another way. Conner had died six years ago. If he had lived, he would have been about Zion’s age.
The trail turned to intersect with the creek. Wyatt checked his map. “This is where we cross.”
The creek was less than a dozen feet wide and looked about a foot deep. A log served as a makeshift bridge, albeit a rounded bridge coated in velvety green moss.
Wyatt said, “If you don’t think you can keep your balance up there, I would suggest just taking off your boots and wading across.”
Beatriz lifted her duct-taped foot. “It’s not like I can.”
“Then just be careful going across. I don’t think I have enough duct tape to build you a new pair.”
“I know the trick,” Susan said. “Look at the log. Not the water.”
Beatriz began to pick her way across with Marco right behind her, hands hovering ready to catch her. Natalia helped both Ryan and Lisa take off their boots, then took off hers as well. Meanwhile, Darryl was taking off his own boots and Zion’s. Blue had already drunk his fill and then splashed over to the other side. Now he was barking as if urging them all to hurry.
When Natalia pulled off her sock, it stuck to the blister. It was worse than popped. Her stupid boot had basically worn a bloody hole in her toe.
When she stepped in, she gasped at the shock of the cold water. Rocks, some slick with algae, pressed into the soles of her feet. On the other side, people were refilling their water bottles and passing around Wyatt’s filter as well as the sunscreen. Marco wet his bandanna and then wrapped it around his forehead.
Wyatt was the l
ast one over, walking across the log as easily as if it were earth. As he jumped off, he glanced down at her feet, then winced and looked closer. “That looks bad. Why didn’t you put anything on it last night?”
“I didn’t want to waste supplies.”
“It’s not wasting if you need them. Here, I’ve got some moleskin in my pack.” After retrieving his first aid kit from Marco, Wyatt used her scissors to cut out a little doughnut shape, peeled off the backing, and then pasted it so the raw spot was now surrounded by a ring of cushioning. As she was pulling on her socks he said, “I think we need to get going.” He sniffed the air again, like an animal scenting for predators. “Because the fire smells closer.”
If she paid attention, she could smell it, too. Pitch and balsam, campfire and char.
Setting out again, they managed to pick up a little speed. The fire itself was harrying them forward. Not only was the air smokier, but they could hear the grumble of the flames growing louder behind them, with the occasional loud crack as a branch or even a tree fell.
Glowing orange embers began to float past them. No one said anything, just walked faster, fast enough that people sometimes tripped on a root or slid as pebbles skittered under their boots. With the help of the trekking pole, Lisa was limping along as fast as she could, but her teeth were sunk into her lip. And even though it was now full daylight, Darryl still occasionally stumbled.
Despite their increased speed, torn rags of bark laced with fire began to blow past them. Then an ember, still alight, landed a few feet from them and flared to life.
Natalia’s breath caught in her chest.
Marco was on the tiny blaze in an instant, stamping it into oblivion. He upended the rest of his water bottle on the spot.
“My hero!” Beatriz clapped her hands together.
But then it happened again. Ten feet away, a burning tatter landed on a bed of needles. A puff of wind ignited the pile into a fire as big as a dinner plate. Coughing in the smoke, Marco stamped this one out too.
