Far Country

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Far Country Page 1

by Malone, Karen




  Far Country

  By Karen Malone

  Dedication

  To my family, for hours of patient reading and re-reading, grammar correcting, and helpful suggestions, and especially to my husband, Jeff, who has always supported my dreams. I am truly blessed to have all of you in my life.

  And also to my English teachers, Mrs. McKay, Miss Higgins and Mr. Marshall - your efforts to introduce me to great literature, and to teach me grammar and punctuation were not entirely wasted! But especially to Mr. Sala, who gave me a 'D' on my first essay, and then forced me to sign up for his Creative Writing class. Thank you.

  Cover Design by Amanda Martis

  Model: Eric McLemore

  All characters mentioned in this book are a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real person(s) is purely coincidental. For purposes of the story, some places/topography of the park mentioned by the characters may also be fictional, or not strictly accurate descriptions of actual places located in Hanging Rock State Park.

  Table Of Contents

  Ch 1

  The Wreck

  Ch 2

  Five Years Later

  Ch 3

  Deborah

  Ch 4

  Rappelling

  Ch 5

  Nightmare in the Hospital

  Ch 6

  Dealing With It

  Ch 7

  New Job Description

  Ch 08

  Facing Old Memories

  Ch 9

  River Run

  Ch 10

  Reaching Out

  Ch 11

  Alone

  Ch 12

  Search

  Ch 13

  Second Chance

  Ch 14

  Running on a Hunch

  Ch 15

  Going Home

  Ch 16

  A New Creation

  Ch 17

  Lazy Days of Spring

  Ch 18

  A Day at the Beach

  Ch 19

  An X-Ray of Life

  Ch 20

  Just Gracie

  Ch 21

  Kairos

  Ch 23

  The Longest Day

  Ch 24

  Better Late Than Never

  Ch 25

  Vacation Bible School is for Adults Too

  Ch 26

  Beth and Steve

  Ch 27

  Truth and Consequences

  Ch 28

  Home Again

  Ch 29

  Unexpected Results

  Ch 30

  Last Dive

  Ch 31

  Nowhere To Go

  Ch 32

  Rescue Mission

  Ch 33

  In Denial

  Ch 34

  Starting Over

  Ch 35

  The Consequences of Oversleeping

  Ch 36

  S’mores

  Ch 37

  Near Disaster

  Ch 38

  Fiona

  Ch 39

  Meetings All Around

  Ch 40

  Small Steps

  Ch 41

  Not So Merry Christmas

  Ch 42

  What Friends Are For

  Ch 43

  Alyssa

  Ch 44

  Three Hundred Dollar Falls

  Ch 45

  When a Good Plan Comes together

  Ch 46

  The Wedding Bells Express

  Ch 47

  Mountaintop Experience

  Chapter 48

  Mourning

  Ch 49

  Begin Again

  Ch 1

  The Wreck

  The rain was so cold.

  It ran down the collar of Steve’s suit jacket, soaking his neck. He shivered uncontrollably and wiped the water off his face, staring numbly at the bottom of the steep ditch. The twisting, two lane back road that he had taken to the island lacked street lamps, yet even the slashing sheets of rain couldn’t completely hide the crumpled form of the little sports car. He couldn’t look away from the wreck. He couldn’t stop shaking.

  Thunder crackled almost overhead, and in the split second that the lightning flash lit up his surroundings, he could see that a stream was beginning to run swiftly through the bottom of the ditch. Soon, he knew it would leak into the passenger side of the car. He hadn’t noticed water in the ditch a few minutes ago, when he had crawled painfully up the muddy banking. He started forward, thinking he ought to make sure Sarah’s head wasn’t in the water, but then he stopped, already defeated. He knew he could not crawl into the twisted interior of the car again.

  In the distance he heard the approaching wail of sirens. He had called 911 before trying to climb out of the wreck. In a minute they would be here and would know how to reach Sarah. There was nothing to do, but wait.

  The phone in his pocket suddenly blared out the opening notes of ‘Pomp and Circumstance,’ and Steve winced at the sound of the ridiculous ringtone Sarah had downloaded onto both of their phones that morning. His thumb punched the button reflexively – anything to kill the mocking tones! But the voice on the line was almost worse.

  “Steve?” Steve’s eyes clenched shut in helpless despair at the sound of his friend’s voice. Panic flooded through him. David! What could he say? What should he…?

  “Hey man, where are you two?” Came his friend’s laughing voice. “Did you lose the directions to the beach house or something? It’s gettin’ late! Can you believe all this freakin’ rain tonight?”

  The faint wail of the siren grew louder. Steve stared miserably at the headlights of the approaching ambulance, afraid to speak, knowing instinctively that actually saying the words would make this nightmare all too real. He glanced at the ditch again and his heart turned over. Sarah! She was still in the car! How could he tell David? His breaths started to come in gasps…

  David’s voice shouting into the air snapped him back. “Steve? What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

  Steve drew a deep shaky breath and forced himself to speak. “No, uh…I – we had a wreck, David.”

  David’s concern was immediate and sharp. “What? Are you hurt? Where’s Sarah?”

  “She’s – she’s still in the car...” Steve took a shuddering breath of air and found himself blurting out to his best friend what he feared the most. “I couldn’t get her out, David! She wouldn’t wake up! I’m scared…I think –I think she’s dead…”

  David’s howl of grief cracked the protective shell of numbness that had made it possible for Steve to call 911 and crawl up the embankment so the ambulance would see him and know where to stop. The sound of David’s cry pierced him. His shaking grew more violent, and he collapsed onto the grass even as the ambulance rounded the same curve where he had lost control, and pulled to a stop almost directly in front of him.

  Moments later a paramedic dropped beside him, shining a light on his forehead. Steve winced as the light stabbed at his eyes. He tried to push the woman away. “No! Sarah’s still down there. Please get her out!” He begged.

  The young paramedic reached for him again, her voice soothing, calm and professional. “Easy, hon. We already have a team going down there, see?” She flicked the light toward the ditch and now Steve could see that a fire truck had pulled up behind the ambulance and four men were already setting up equipment around the car. She moved the light back to study his forehead. “They’ll get her out in no time,” she told him comfortingly. “But you’re hurt, too, and you’re bleeding pretty bad. Can you stand up? We need to get you out of this rain!” Gently, she helped him to his feet, and in the light from her flashlight, Steve realized that more than just water was running down his face. In fact, the phone was covered in sticky red blood.

  The phone…

/>   Steve could still hear David screaming at him though the receiver, but he could only stare at it. What could he say to David? It was his fault! He had been too proud of that car - his graduation gift from his parents. After the rusty Chevette he had driven for two years, the black classic Corvette had been an unexpected surprise. It had been his pride – for less than a day. He groaned. Pride! He had wanted to show off to Sarah. Show her what the car was capable of, so he'd taken Old Folkstone Road to test it out on some curves. He had shown her, all right – he had killed her!

  The paramedic glanced at the phone in Steve’s hand as she guided the trembling teenager back toward the ambulance. He could barely put any weight on his right leg and his right arm was hanging unused. The goose egg on his forehead hinted of a possible concussion and there was a good chance that he had internal injuries as well. It was clear that shock was setting in quickly.

  “What’s your name, son?” She asked as she helped him to the back of the ambulance.

  The boy was slow to respond. His voice was weak and thready. “Steve,” he whispered.

  “Who’s on the phone, Steve?” Steve stared at the phone again, still unable to respond to the frantic cries issuing from the receiver.

  “It’s David,” he told her at last.

  “Is David a friend, or a family member?” She asked, prying the phone gently out of Steve’s numb fingers.

  “No – yes.”

  “Which is it, Steve?” She asked again, lifting the bloody phone to her ear.

  “Both,” Steve answered. “My friend... Sarah is his sister - his twin.”

  “Your friend in the car?” She asked him, her eyes widening in sudden comprehension.

  The boy nodded miserably.

  The paramedic took a deep breath, praying silently. Oh Lord, how many lives will be damaged from this night? This careless moment? She handed Steve off to her partner and spoke into the phone.

  “David?” She spoke loudly, cutting through the voice on the other end.

  “Who is this?” The deep voice was at once demanding and terrified. She had heard that particular combination too many times in her three years as an EMT. Needing to know, yet dreading the truth.

  “My name is Angela, David. I’m a paramedic. Steve was pretty badly injured and he’s being seen now. We are still working to get your sister out of the car.”

  “Is it true?” He demanded wildly. “Where are they? Where’d it happen?”

  “Near the beach road,” she told him and then frowned at his first question. “Is what true, David? What did Steve tell you?”

  “He said my sister is dead!” The voice cracked on the last word. Angela could hear the gasping breaths as the young man she was speaking to fought to maintain control.

  Angela glanced involuntarily toward the wreckage in the ditch, and her heart stumbled. From what little she could see, it was a miracle that the boy had ever crawled out alive. Could there be two miracles this night?

  She steadied her voice. “Did Steve tell you that? Truthfully, David, I don’t know yet. The firemen are working to get her out of the car, and the rain is making it very difficult.”

  “Why would he say it if it wasn’t true?” The young man’s voice demanded.

  “David, Steve has some pretty serious injuries and he’s badly shaken. It’s completely dark out here. She may just be unconscious. We just don’t know yet.”

  “I’m coming out there!”

  “No!” Angela spoke firmly. The last thing they needed was hysterical family members hampering their efforts. Regardless of whether it was rescue or recovery, no one should have to see a family member lifted from a wreck like this. The image was too devastating.

  “David, I need you to be strong right now. I need your help. I need you to call your parents, yours and Steve’s. Do you have both those numbers? Tell them we’re coming in to Onslow Memorial Hospital. Tell them to meet us there. You should meet us there, too, David.”

  “Yeah...okay.” The voice was reluctant, but calmer now. He knew that she was right. The family needed to be called.

  Angela sighed in relief. “Meet us at the hospital, David,” she repeated. ”Don’t tell the families any more than necessary. And please, don’t tell them what Steve said just yet. He could be wrong. Let’s pray that he is. Prayer is the only thing you can do for Sarah right now.”

  “Do what?” The young man’s voice asked incredulously.

  “Pray, David. God hears all prayers.”

  “Yeah,” came his uncertain reply. “Sure.” Then the phone went dead.

  Angela stared at the phone sadly, wishing the young man had been a believer. From what she could see, those two families would need all the comfort they could get.

  It was almost midnight, but Angela made one call on Steve’s phone before she returned it to him. She called her own pastor and asked him to pray.

  Ch 2

  Five Years Later

  Steve stepped out of the Hanging Rock Visitor’s Center and watched pensively as the afternoon sun went to its rest in yet another show stopping display of pinks purple, indigo and gold. He closed his eyes as the red disk dropped behind the mountain ridge and sighed. Sunset and sunrise were good times for him. For those brief minutes of glory, he seemed to lose himself, memories faded, bitterness and self-loathing took a back seat to Nature’s grandest display.

  As the twilight deepened, he reluctantly left the deck and climbed into the white truck to make a last tour of the campsites. A routine tour of course. On a Friday in June, all the sites were generally filled before noon. The last registration today had been completed by 1:00, yet the hourly circuit was necessary. It did not take a ranger long to learn what to look for in the constantly changing population of the campground. Most were families out to enjoy the beauty of the State Park. A few were serious rock climbers, intent on conquering the many challenging rock formations Hanging Rock offered. But there were always a few that came to the campsites looking to party with a group of friends. Weeding out these potential hotspots early, before the party could get out of control or even cranked up, was necessary for everyone’s safety – his included. In the past year, he had had a concussion from a well-aimed beer bottle, barely ducked a camper’s axe during a family brawl, and had a tooth loosened by an amazingly accurate right hook. No doubt about it. A ranger’s life was seldom dull.

  But he hadn’t become a ranger just to police campsites. It was just a necessary part of the job. What he loved was trail duty. Maintaining the trails was a constant concern, and traveling the various trails, checking for tree falls and other impediments, meant regularly hiking the park’s 18 miles of trails. For Steve, it never got old. He had come to know every curve of each trail from the easy walk to the Lower Cascades to the strenuous hike to the observation deck on Moore’s Knob. Only out on the trails did he find some level of peace and forgetfulness.

  But there was guilt even in those brief moments on the trail. He could never forget the high school graduation party five years before - or that Sarah lay in a coma, wasted and pale, but breathing still. Sarah, the girl of his dreams. She would never go to college, or marry, or raise a family of her own. Of their own! Steve still believed that they would have married after college. He still carried the diamond promise ring he had planned to give her at the beach party the night of the accident.

  It had been returned to him by the hospital desk clerk, along with his wallet and cell phone, in a plain manila envelope. He had stared at the blue velvet bag as it tumbled into his hand, wanting to throw it across the room, yet still wanting to believe that Sarah might wake up and smile at him, and his life would be as it should be. He had heard the doctor’s gloomy predictions, but it still didn’t seem possible to him that a girl as healthy and alive as Sarah would not somehow beat the odds and wake up one day soon. Steve wanted to believe that – needed to believe that! Almost defiantly, he had stuffed the pouch and its contents into his pocket. When the day came, he would be ready.

 
But the day had never come. He supposed he carried it now as his last link with her. He had not seen her in all the years since the accident. Sarah’s family had refused his every request to visit her at the nursing facility in Wilmington. He knew from experience that there was a standing order to have him physically removed should he try to enter the building. He had tried on more than one occasion.

  Even his parents, so supportive when it had first happened, now thought he was a bit crazy. As the months passed, and Sarah’s family had continued to block his every attempt to speak to them or see Sarah, they had urged him to let go of the whole situation and move on. The trouble was, how could he move on when he couldn’t even say good-bye? Sarah’s life had ended but her body continued. Steve couldn’t seem to get beyond that fact any more than Sarah’s family. They all seemed frozen in time, focused on that one foolish moment in June.

  Steve sighed and shook his head to clear it of the endless circle of futile memories, and concentrated instead on the circle and extension that made up the 73 campsites at Hanging Rock. For once, everything seemed quiet and well-ordered. The familiar aromas of grilled steak, barbecued chicken, hamburgers, and roasted marshmallows wafted though the open window of the truck as he drove slowly, checking each site and making eye contact where possible.

  At site 42, however, he slowed and frowned with concern. It still appeared deserted. Steve pulled over and walked the site. He checked the registration card in his truck – one man, Shane Davis, age twenty-two. Steve noted that the ranger who had taken his registration information this morning had checked “climber”. Mr. Davis' truck was still parked on the site, but the tent had never been set up. A cooler of hotdogs and soda still sat unpacked in the truck bed. Apparently the young man had left the site immediately to take advantage of the quiet morning. He did not appear to have returned.

  Steve quickly completed the circuit and headed back to the Visitor’s Center. Chuck was just returning from checking the rock climber’s registration boxes at the trailhead. People attempting the more dangerous section of the rock face had to sign in and out when they returned. Steve flashed his lights and pulled up next to Chuck’s truck. “Any questionables?” He asked.

 

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