Hostile Territory

by Paul Greci

  Shannon opens her eyes. “Sorry for the delay.” She touches the side of her face and winces. Then she looks at Brooke. “I wasn’t sure if I’d need the EpiPen, but thanks for administering it. You’re supposed to err on the side of needing it; otherwise, it could be too late.”

  Brooke says, “I was so scared of being left out here alone, I jammed that thing in your thigh with no hesitation.” She smiles. “I’m glad you’re okay. We all are.”

  “There can be rebound effects,” Shannon says. “It’s been years since I’ve had an EpiPen shot, but I recovered well last time. You’re supposed to seek medical attention after you use one, but I guess I’ll have to settle for you three.”

  “Doctor D. at your service,” Derrick says. “I specialize in, well … I specialize in not specializing.”

  Shannon sits up. She touches Derrick’s arm and smiles. “Perfect. The last thing I want is special treatment.”

  “Did anyone at camp know?” I ask. “About you being allergic?”

  Shannon shakes her head. “I kept it a secret. Lied on my medical form. I didn’t know if they’d let me come if I told them. Hid my EpiPen inside a spare pair of socks.”

  Derrick says, “Is there anything else we need to know?” He’s smiling, but I can tell it’s a serious question.

  “Is that question just for me?” Shannon says.

  “You inspired it,” Derrick responds. “But no.” He glances at me, then at Brooke, and then puts his hand on his chest, indicating it’s for all of us.

  After we all fess up to having no other medical conditions to fess up about, I say, “How long until you think you’ll be able to cross the swamp, Shannon?”

  “I don’t feel dizzy, but I’ll know more after I stand up.” Shannon touches her face again. “That yellow jacket came out of nowhere.” She stands up on her own, and we all stand up, too. Then she says, “I should be able to walk.”

  “How about swimming?” Derrick says. He makes the breaststroke motion with his arms.

  “It’s that deep?” Brooke frowns. “This is going to suck.”

  “It’s already sucked for me and Old Tenderfoot, twice now.” Derrick gestures toward me with his thumb, pointing downward.

  Shannon and Brooke look at my feet.

  I explain to them how the water won’t be exactly over their heads, but if they walk through the mucky part like I tried to do they might end up shoeless, too. “Unless you’ve got skis for feet”—I point down at Derrick’s feet—“I’d swim.”

  Shannon and Brooke look at each other and then back at me.

  I go on. “Me and Derrick will carry your packs. Maybe at some point we’ll be able to build a fire and dry our clothes. I don’t think I’ve been dry since the bear spray incident.”

  Brooke points at my foot. “What are you going to do with just one shoe?” She shakes her head. “How are you going to hike?”

  I raise my stocking foot in the air. “I’m just going to have to do it. Somehow. I don’t know how, but I will. I can do it.” I try to sound confident, but truth be told, I’m pretty nervous about the whole thing. The enormity of my situation is settling in. Will I die in the wilderness because I lost my shoe in a swamp? Putting one foot in front of the other just got way more complicated.

  “Dudes,” Derrick says. “Let’s—”

  “I just want to make it clear,” Shannon says, “about this dude lingo you keep using.”

  “Dude,” Derrick says, looking at Shannon, “go on.” He grins.

  Shannon cracks a smile. “Historically speaking, a dude is a fashionably dressed man.”

  Derrick raises his eyebrows and smiles. “Dudes, I’m using the word in a more modern way. I know that I’ve taken some liberties with the term, but to me, dudes are friends I can rely on. Male, female. Young. Old. My pet dog—if I had one. Makes no difference to me. Now, let’s all get across the swamp and then deal with this Tenderfoot shoe issue on the other side, and anything else that comes up, like needing a fire so we don’t freeze to death.”

  “That makes sense,” I say. “After we’re all across, we’ll have one less problem to solve.”

  CHAPTER 39

  THE FIRE CRACKLES AND THROWS some sparks while the four of us sit around it, soaking wet from the swamp crossing. The clouds are breaking up, so at least we won’t get drenched from above.

  The knee-high flames are giving off enough heat that steam is rising from our clothes.

  Through the trees, I look toward the swamp, wishing that my shoe would magically rise from the mud and float to me.

  Shannon stands up and stretches her arms over her head. The side of her face where she was stung is still swollen, but other than that she seems to be okay.

  “I could sleep for a week,” Brooke says.

  “I’m too hungry to sleep.” Derrick stands up and tosses a giant handful of sticks onto the fire. “I’m going to go collect some more wood. We’re going to need it if we want to finish this dry-cleaning job.”

  I want to help him collect wood but don’t want to trash my one sock. I rinsed it and wrung it out in the shallows at the edge of the swamp and then carefully walked up here with one bare foot. Now my sock is propped on a branch close to the fire.

  It makes sense to dry off, especially since we’ll be climbing the next mountain range to keep going. If we’re dry, we’ll be less likely to get cold. But all the delays are slowing us down.

  The bear spray incident.

  The yellow jacket.

  The swamp.

  And now, my shoe.

  I might turn into a continual delay for the group. We could starve before we get anywhere because of me. I might have to tell the group to keep going and I’ll follow if I’m moving a lot slower than they are. I can’t have everyone die because of me. The last thing I imagined was that I’d be the weight dragging us down. I thought most of my challenges would be about getting the others to keep moving.

  I stand up and hop closer to the fire. I look carefully before setting my bare foot down, but I feel a prick and quickly lift my foot off the ground. Without my sock on, it’s even more impossible to move around. I think about how much I take for granted when I’ve got a shoe on each foot. How I run with abandon on trails, on roads—everywhere. Theo and I never talked about how great it was that we were wearing shoes on our daily runs. It was just something we took for a given.

  I sit back down, bend my leg, and pull my foot toward me. I examine my heel and see several small rose thorns, some as thin as strands of hair, sticking out of it. There must’ve been a tiny branch on the ground that I didn’t see. With the sock on, it would have been better, but eventually those thorns would have worked their way through my sock and into my foot.

  Shannon sits down next to me. “Do you need any help?”

  “Maybe,” I say. Then I focus in on my heel and try to pull the tiny thorns out with my thumb and index finger, but they keep slipping through my grasp.

  I try and try and can feel Shannon’s eyes on me. Finally, she says, “Can I try?”

  “Sure,” I say. “I was about to just cut the whole thing off and be done with it.”

  “Dude,” Shannon says, sounding just like Derrick, “we don’t have the bandages to deal with a severed foot, so you may need to keep it for our sake.” She smiles.

  “Yeah,” Derrick says, coming in behind me with a pile of firewood. “You’re gonna need to keep it at least until Talkeetna. If you’re still feeling the need after that, I’ll cut it off for you.”

  I crack a small smile, but I’m still feeling lousy about the situation. I don’t want to be a drag on the group.

  “Flex your foot,” Shannon says.

  “Which way?” I say, moving my foot back and forth at the ankle.

  “Pull your toes toward your shin.” Shannon demonstrates with her own foot. “It’ll tighten the skin and make the extractions easier.”

  “So scientific sounding,” Derrick says as he sits down next to Shannon. “Let me know if
you want me to assist in the extractions.”

  “I’m keeping my distance,” Brooke says from the other side of the fire. “Josh, I know your foot’s been washed, but you washed it in a swamp.” She scrunches her nose up and sniffs like she’s catching a whiff of something nasty.

  Derrick laughs, and for a few seconds it feels like everything is normal. Like we’re just hanging out somewhere and later we’ll all go home for the night.

  “I’m waiting,” Shannon says.

  I flex my foot, and Shannon leans forward and puts one hand on the ball of my foot. “Okay, I see a few tiny rose thorns.” She touches one, and I wince. “Sorry,” she says. “They’re pretty flimsy, more like hairs than thorns.”

  “Yeah,” Derrick says. “Too bad he didn’t step on something big, like a rusty nail; then any of us could’ve yanked it out easily.”

  “I’m going to try to pull them out, but they’re so small.” She reaches with her thumb and index finger, but when she connects with my heel I pull back.

  “Sorry,” I say. “That kind of tickled.”

  “Just try to keep it steady,” Shannon says.

  She tries again. I resist the urge to pull back, and it feels like a couple of the needles are being pushed into my heel.

  “I can’t quite get them.” But Shannon keeps trying, and I keep feeling like I’m getting stuck with needles. I just grit my teeth and let her try because I know if they don’t come out, I’ll be in pain every step of the way, and that’s not even counting what else I might step on that will cause me problems.

  Shannon lets go of my foot and sits up straight. “If only I had some tweezers.”

  Brooke says from across the fire, “I know something to try. It’s kind of gross, but it might work.”

  CHAPTER 40

  “I’M THINKING, IF THERE EVER was a surefire way to spread hoof-and-mouth disease, this is it,” Derrick says.

  “Are you serious?” Brooke asks.

  “If I was planning on doing what you’re planning on doing.” Derrick’s voice trails off, “I don’t know…”

  “I do know,” Shannon says. “Hoof-and-mouth is a cow disease. It has nothing to do with humans. There is something called hand, foot, and mouth disease, but that’s mostly about little kids putting their hands in their mouths and getting a viral infection because they have germs on them. It’s most common in daycare settings.”

  “How do you know all this stuff? And don’t say that ol’ Alaska wildlife class … Are you one of those new, realistic-looking AI robots?” Derrick asks. “Seriously, how do you know this stuff?”

  “School? My mom being a nurse?” Shannon pauses and shrugs. “I don’t know. My mom says I have a good memory. And, I guess I just like learning.”

  The fire is still burning with knee-high flames, and the heat and smoke seem to be keeping the mosquitoes away. If we weren’t starving, hanging out around the fire would actually be fun.

  “My sister taught me this method to pull out splinters,” Brooke says. “I’ve only ever used it on myself, and never on my feet. Mostly on the palm of my hand.” She continues, “Josh fixed up my feet and basically taught me how to wear my boots. I don’t think I’d be sitting here if it weren’t for him, so if I can help, I want to.” She smiles at me, and I smile back.

  “Above and beyond,” Derrick says. “Above and beyond.” The second time he says it he slows it down and drags out each syllable for emphasis and we all laugh.

  “More like below and beyond.” Brooke points at my foot.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I say. Truth is, I just hope it works.

  “Okay, Josh,” Brooke says. “Kneel down on your hands and knees, then flex your foot. Everyone else, stand back so you don’t block my light.”

  I do as Brooke says.

  “Okay,” Brooke continues. “First, I’m going to touch your heel to see if I can feel the tiny rose thorns with my finger.”

  I feel Brooke’s finger on my arch. She slowly runs it toward my heel, and it’s starting to tickle until she hits one of the thorns and I reflexively move my foot.

  “Keep it still,” Brooke says. I feel her other hand press down on the base of my calf.

  She must’ve scooted her face closer to my foot because now I can feel her breath on my heel and arch and my heart races. Yeah, I’m a little aroused by this. Under different circumstances, if she had her mouth that close to my bare foot and wasn’t recoiling in horror, I’d be pretty much melting.

  “Okay,” Brooke says. “I’m almost ready. Stay absolutely still. I don’t want to get kicked.” My foot has totally heated up from her breath.

  I feel her lips brush my heel and then her teeth scraping against the skin.

  I close my eyes and concentrate on staying still. I feel a little stinging.

  Brooke presses harder on my calf. “I got one,” she says. Then I hear her spitting. “There’s like three or four more.”

  Brooke repeats the process like ten or twelve times because she isn’t successful on every try, but in the end she gets them all.

  I rise so I’m on my knees and turn to Brooke, who is still on her knees. “Thanks.” I smile.

  “Sure thing.” She smiles back at me. Then she stands up.

  “You’ve just proved it.” Derrick points at Brooke. “Truth is stranger than fiction.”

  Even though he’s just making a joke and we all laugh, when I think about all we’ve been through since the earthquake, I totally agree with him. You can’t make this stuff up.

  And now I’m back to thinking about what to do about my shoe situation. As much as I might like it, I can’t be asking Brooke to pull sharp objects out of my feet with her mouth all the time.

  Plus, right now my foot is clean. I doubt she would have offered to do that if it were filthy. And hiking without a shoe, you can bet my foot will be filthy. Dirt and grime I can handle, I just don’t want to hurt it. I need to be able to walk on it—for miles and miles and miles.

  Derrick throws more small sticks and branches on the fire. It flares up, and we all step back because of the heat. If we can keep the fire this hot, our clothes will be dry in no time.

  Maybe Shannon can tell I’ve been thinking about my missing shoe because she says, “I think I know how to protect Josh’s foot when he’s hiking, but it’s going to require each of us giving something up.”

  CHAPTER 41

  I TAKE A STEP, TESTING my new shoe. “I think this will work.”

  The wind picked up a little bit while we were building the shoe. When I hold my foot up after taking my first step, the wind presses the blue stuff sack that makes up the outer layer of the shoe against the top of my foot and ankle.

  “You’ll probably have to make some adjustments,” Shannon says.

  I look at my foot, wrapped in a blue stuff sack that’s tied on with the drawstring from the top of my sleeping bag. “This will be a million times better than just wearing a sock,” I say.

  It took some trial and error to get it to where it is right now.

  My sock is on just like I always wear it—that’s layer number one.

  For layer number two, there’s a blue stuff sack, thanks to Derrick donating his.

  For layer number three there’s a piece of blue foam from Brooke’s sleeping pad, roughly cut to the size and shape of my foot. We accomplished this by using a sharp rock as a knife.

  For layer number four, there’s another blue stuff sack, thanks to Shannon.

  The whole contraption is tied together with the drawstring from my sleeping bag. The drawstring—which is basically a small rope—circles my foot three times and is tied snug on top with a square knot. The idea is that the rope will keep the blue foam—the only cushioning I have for my foot—from sliding all over the place.

  From the bottom up, something would have to puncture four layers to make contact with my foot. The biggest danger is having something pummel my foot or ankle from the side, where there’s less protection.

  The oth
er danger is that the stuff sack is kind of slippery. The rope wrapping around it provides some traction, but nothing like a real shoe.

  “Thanks, everyone,” I say. “With any luck, I won’t slow us down too much.” My heel is still a little sore where Brooke used her teeth to extract the thorns, but it’s way less painful than when the thorns were in my skin.

  “I’m going to eat my ramen,” Shannon says. “And just pretend we’re on a camping trip and are sitting by a campfire.”

  We all decide that now is as good a time as any for dinner and each break out our second-to-last packs of ramen. When I swallow the first mouthful of crunchy noodles, it awakens my hunger, and I know I’ll feel even hungrier after I’ve finished them.

  “The rest by the fire has been good for me,” Shannon says. “Coming down off the EpiPen has me feeling kind of sleepy. I can walk, but it sure feels good to just sit here.”

  “We can all relax at least a little longer.” Derrick dumps the last of the wood he’s collected onto the fire. “At least until this load burns up.”

  My clothes are still pretty damp, but maybe a little more time by the fire will do the trick.

  A gust of wind whooshes down from the mountains. Maybe this time the breeze is stronger, or maybe it’s blowing closer to the ground, or maybe both of those things are happening, because the thick bed of glowing red-hot coals that’s built up over the last few hours doesn’t exactly scatter, but some of it becomes airborne. Derrick and I are sitting on the uphill side of the fire so it doesn’t bother us, but Brooke and Shannon are sitting on the downhill side. They both dive out of the way to avoid being burned by the flying embers. Some tiny coals land right where they were sitting, and some of them sail over their heads, riding the wind. I watch the coals that land on the ground close by to make sure they don’t burst into flame.

  Shannon and Brooke move to the uphill side and sit between Derrick and me. The sun has come back out, so that will speed up the last of the drying process.

  “How does everyone feel about continuing to walk once the fire burns down?” I ask. “I know we’ve had an exhausting day, but now that the sun is out we might want to take advantage of it.”