by Katie Cross
Right where I wanted us.
With a little mental slap, I shook that thought away and glanced overhead. "What if we find higher ground and survey where we are? Maybe we can see something that we recognize and go from there."
She nodded. "It’s what I was going to suggest. I have no idea where we are," she murmured. The admittance seemed to cost her, because she winced. "There's a ridge over there that would get us high enough. It's a good plan."
She pointed to the west. A tower of rocks jutted through the trees with a daunting climb up the backside of it. That sort of ridgeline and ascent would surely take a lot of energy out of us. At least an hour of climbing up, I'd guess. Slipping, uncertain spots could be treacherous. Sleep had given me a boost of energy to take advantage of, so there was no need for both of us to waste energy.
"I'll go," I said. "You stay here. Conserve your strength."
She shook her head. "We do it together. You don't know what you'll find up there. Both of us should have our eyes on it."
I hesitated, but seeing the firm look of her eyes, didn't protest. Instead, I held out my hand.
"Then let's go."
At the top, Ellie frowned, panted, and then cursed under her breath. While I surveyed the greater view of the horizon and tried to gain my bearings, a sense of puzzlement settled over her. She glanced behind us, then to the north again. Before I could make sense of it all, she muttered in astonishment, "No way."
"What?"
Ellie shuffled closer so our shoulders touched, then pointed to the north. Her arm led out, gesturing to the northwest.
"That's where our original camp was."
"What?"
"I'm certain of it. See the ridgeline? We crawled over that, then went north there."
While her fingers traced an invisible path, my mind scrambled the location together with quick, sporadic memories. At the time of hiking it, I'd paid more attention to Steve and Kimball, but I’d still tried to memorize as much of our surroundings as possible. Although we viewed the route from an entirely different angle, I saw the path that she meant.
"We came too far south?"
A troubled expression creased her brow. She licked her lips, and I wondered if her mouth was as dry as mine.
"Yes. That first night, we must have gone farther than I thought. I think we sort of made a circle yesterday evening. We were heading south, but then we angled southwest, then west, and now we're looking to the northwest. Look at the river down there? It curls. It's subtle, but it winds a bit. See that glimmer on the horizon?"
My heart nearly stopped and I felt a rush of euphoria. Glimmer, indeed. That glimmer indicated the reservoir at Pineville, which needed to be in the north. Relief rushed through me as I clapped her on the shoulder.
"Ellie, my guide. You have saved us!" I held up both hands in an expression of surrender and said. "I fully admit that I was wrong, you were right. If we had gone with my plan last night, we would have kept walking into the woods and been totally screwed."
“Agreed, minion. Your subservience is accepted.”
I laughed. She grinned, but eyed the path of the stream and canyon below. Indeed, it turned vaguely west/southwest around another mountain ridge, taking us farther from our ultimate goal. We would have stumbled all day for nothing.
She managed a wan smile.
"Now can we go back to our old campsite?"
19
Ellie
The silky tops of grasses tickled my fingers as we slipped through a mountain meadow. We’d been hiking for several hours, and I guessed the time to be about noon. Wildflowers stirred as we passed, our gazes fixated on an open tract of the mountain that lay beyond this one. A familiar meadow appeared back there.
A very familiar meadow.
The place where we'd first camped with Steve and Kimball when the thunder rolled through.
Had that happened ages ago?
The relief that had flowed through me this morning when I recognized where we stood buoyed me up now. We'd be able to find our way back to the truck. We didn't have the keys, and Kimball and Steve could have beaten us back and slashed our tires, but at least we had a location.
Either way, we'd have to walk to Pineville, but it would be on a road far easier than this. Angry red scratches and scrapes filled my arms. Devin had one across his left cheek. A few holes littered my shirt near the bottom from branches and brambles that reached for us in the thickest bracken. I didn't want to see another gully filled with bushes ever again.
Our surroundings now were vaguely familiar. I was certain I had hiked them before. Maybe I had brought my dog Thor here in the past. We'd camped at that campsite several times. Seemed likely we might have ventured down here.
A quiet feeling lay over the mountaintop, like the calm before a rainstorm. Clouds scudded over the sky, keeping the temperature cooler. We'd moved away from water after drinking until our stomachs hurt, so the calm warmth felt like a gift. Dreams of a savory BLT dripping with butter and a crisp salad filled my mind as we walked.
"Is it really hot on the east coast?" I asked.
Devin snorted. He walked only a few paces behind me, the crunch of his boots on the ground a comforting sound.
"As hell. It's so humid. Not as bad on the coast, near the ocean, but still . . . it's not like this."
My thoughts ran over his reply. I'd never grappled with humidity before. Had never seen the ocean or other places. Mountains rarely battled moisture, particularly with how dry things had been this year.
"Do you miss it?"
He shrugged. "The humidity? Definitely not. The east coast? It's not so bad. I have a few friends there."
"Any potential girlfriends?"
The quick question startled me as much as it seemed to startle him, especially considering our conversation about this topic yesterday. Before I could berate myself for asking again, he saved my pride and laughed it off.
"There are women I work with, but none that I spend a lot of time with outside of the job. Are you jealous?"
"Yes."
He paused, then grinned in a loopy way. "Really?"
I tried to keep it light and shrug it off, but my tone gave me away. "I've missed spending time with you."
"Oh.” Shock riddled his tone. “I'm . . . glad to hear that."
To salvage my pride, I kept walking. We neared the edge of this meadow and would only need to push through what appeared to be a band of trees before the next one opened up. Brush cluttered the floor at the base of a quaking aspen field. I pushed one large bush aside with my knee.
"Will you come visit me?" he asked.
"Can I?"
"Of course. Would you actually come?"
"Yes. As soon as I could."
"Really?"
The lilt in his tone indicated a deeper surprise than I expected. I glanced at him from over my shoulder.
"Really," I said.
"You just . . . I wasn't sure you'd want to come. Have you left Pineville since I did?"
My brow furrowed. "Not yet. Not beyond Jackson City."
"Do you want to?"
"So much."
A startled expression crossed his face, leading back to the goofy smile that I'd missed more than anything.
"Then let's do it. Come and see me. I'll let you know my schedule. Probably have a long weekend coming up, or something. Or you can just come and stay for as long as you want and we'll hang out after work. Things won't be quite as intense right after leave and we get put back together from deployment."
I smiled. "Agreed."
We turned our attention back to the copse of trees. The thick brambles forced us to wade through grasses high and thick, the thorns scraping our arms while the leaves trailed gently on my skin. My mind spun over the shock in Devin's voice. Did he think I'd be one of those people that lived and breathed Pineville and never left?
And . . . hadn't I been?
There was nothing wrong with staying in my hometown, except that it didn't feel fun anymo
re. I wanted to see more of the world just as much as I wanted to anchor in the mountains when I returned.
So why hadn't I traveled?
No answer surfaced through the vague haze that had become my mind.
For the next ten minutes, we slowly worked our way through the young grove. Sunlight angled through the tree branches overhead and fell on my shoulders. I couldn't wait to get into a hot shower and scrub the grease out of my hair. Devin had fallen quiet at my back, only the gentle swish of his pants as he walked and the low, quiet thud of his boots.
I stumbled over a rock as we neared the edge of the meadow. Devin grabbed my shoulder with a little hiss, then yanked me the rest of the way to the ground. My breath rushed out of me, but movement out of the corner of my eye sealed my lips shut before I could protest. On our stomachs, Devin pointed to the northeast, not far from where we'd first made camp.
"Steve," he mouthed.
My stomach twisted with a cold fist of dread. We held our breaths to listen. At first, I heard nothing. Then a voice, which definitely belonged to Steve. And another voice.
Kimball.
With a deep sigh, I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead onto a rock in disbelief. No. Way. Somehow, they'd made their way back to our original campsite at the exact same time as us?
Devin had gone on full alert, his hands pressed into the ground as he occasionally rose up to see them, then lowered back down.
"They're thirty yards away," he murmured. "Not aware of us as far as I can tell. No signs of a new camp, but I can't be sure. They may have just arrived."
"Do they have our bags?" I whispered.
He hesitated, peered up again, then nodded. "Steve has your bag on his back. He's taking it off. Not sure about mine yet. No sign of any of the other guys, but I'd bet they split off from each other."
"I hope their shoes are melted and their feet are burned raw from the fire," I muttered.
Dev snorted.
We'd just been loudly tromping through the trees, talking about me visiting him. A promise that our life after this would be filled with each other. Now that was all thrown back into question again. The frustration set me on edge.
"What do you suggest?" I asked.
"We lay low. They're probably here to backtrack and get to their truck, just like us."
Their figures were distant enough we couldn't see all the details, but at least I could see that they hadn't moved. Steve seemed to lounge against a tree. Kimball, sitting on a stump or something.
"So why aren't they going already?"
He shrugged. "Not sure. Maybe a break."
"Can we tail them? Follow them down the mountain? If they have my bag, we can get my keys that way."
Devin's mind moved behind his glassy eyes, and I wondered if he shared my thoughts. My pack had the radio, my phone, the truck keys, water, food—if they hadn't eaten it all—and a permanent escape. Without that bag, we could still be another day or two from eating, depending on how long it took us to travel the road back.
We could skirt around them and get down the mountain first, but then what? If they had the truck keys and we had to walk, they'd eventually pass us on the road. Unless we walked in the trees and avoided the road, but that would only prolong our time out here. Now, they even blocked our water access.
In other words, we needed that pack.
Devin stared, gaze tapered into slashes. His fingers had curled around a clump of weeds and tightened in thought. I pushed off the ground to peer over the top of the grass. Two figures shifted along the far tree line, seemingly oblivious to our presence. Steve stood against a tree, my pack at his feet. Kimball regarded something in his hands. A radio, perhaps? Who would they speak to out here? I doubted they kept in contact with the other scrawny cronies.
I lowered back down. Just the sight of them made me want to throw up.
"Dev? We have to get that pack."
His hand released the grip around the grass. He turned to me, blinking out of deep thoughts, and said, "I have a plan."
Ten minutes later, my heart hammered in my throat. I crouched behind a chokecherry bush, then hustled behind another. I stepped carefully and swung a wide path behind Steve and Kimball. They spoke quietly and only intermittently, mere flashes of grubby color amongst the foliage.
Silently, I stalked through the forest on my hands and knees, close enough to see them, but far enough they wouldn’t hear me. Based on their loud voices and lack of attention, they likely hadn't noticed anything. Heat rose from the ground, dampening the air from the dissipating morning dew. Not a hint of wind stirred to provide sound cover. My breath landed like bombs.
When I thought I’d found the right spot Devin told me to take, I paused. Their voices were still audible, though muffled. After a few seconds to ensure no one else crept up on me, I ducked down to crawl toward Kimball and Steve. Rocks poked the sensitive skin on my thighs, bruising muscles and skin as I hurried over them. Dirt coated my palms and stirred my nostrils with a dry scent. I dodged grasses and bushes as best I could to avoid jostling them and inched along in an excruciating crawl.
What felt like an eternity later, I stared at Steve’s back from no less than fifteen feet away.
The pack lay on the ground next to him now. He slumped to the earth with his back to the tree where he had been standing. His profile glowered at the forest. In the bright light of day, he appeared pale. His eyes were drawn. Had the pixie dust before the fight aged him like this? Or had life been so unfair?
Whatever the answer, it didn’t matter now.
I lowered all the way to the ground near a cluster of bushes. Steve and Kimball were still visible through thick branches that sprouted small, clattering green leaves. The stream we’d used when we first camped lay across the meadow, so they wouldn’t walk past me to get water. Steve and Kimball shouldn’t see me unless they walked closer and searched the ground. I fervently hoped they didn’t.
Once settled, I waited for Devin to enact his part of the plan.
My heart thudded against my ribcage while the sounds of the forest filled my ears. This low to the ground, the dirt seemed to move. Tiny bugs crawled over mounds, roots, and pieces of rock at the end of the grass blades near the dry dirt. I turned my focus back to the two men. With concentration, I could make out what they said.
“He said noon,” Kimball snapped.
“What time is it?”
Kimball threw his hands in the air. “How am I supposed to know? Not noon. The sun isn’t high enough in the sky. I think,” he tacked on.
Steve tilted his head back to scrutinize the sky, then frowned at the dirt again. Who would they meet here? Kimball turned to face Steve, which gave me a full glimpse of his profile. Dirt marred his face and fatigue lined his eyes. Clearly, they had a few rough nights also, which wouldn't make them more amenable to me if they found me. I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for them.
“We wait as long as we have to wait,” Kimball muttered, more to himself than to Steve. “Which . . . whatever.”
Another silence fell. I lowered my chin so I could still see them if they moved, but didn’t have to hold my head up. Minutes passed. A lazy sun fell through the trees in a lattice of light that moved gently across the forest floor. Warmth rose from the ground while I entertained myself with dreams of pizza with cheese so thick it dripped off the sides.
A huge splash broke the quiet.
Trees rustled near the creek like crashes of thunder, jostled so hard the branches knocked into each other. Steve turned to look over his shoulder. Kimball straightened, and his head popped up like a gopher.
A deep, rumbling sound followed that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. A giggle threatened to bubble out of me, but I held it back by sheer willpower. Devin used that same growl as an imitation of a bear to play pranks on his sister, Kendra, when we camped with his family. He’d prowl around outside her tent and shake it with that sound in the middle of the night. Her shrieks of fear—then sisterly rage—
echoed in my memories now.
“What was that?” Kimball hissed.
Steve paled further. I rolled my lips together and wondered if this wild desire to burst into laughter was a sign of lost sanity. I wanted nothing more than to laugh until my stomach hurt, despite the tension in the air. Devin and I had one shot to get those keys. I couldn't mess it up with amusement.
They paused, and another long silence followed. My levity faded as I realized just how many ways this patched-together plan may not work. Another cluster of trees rustled, these a few paces closer. Steve rose, then stumbled back.
“That damn bear!” he cried. "The one Neils spoke about."
“Shut up, you idiot!” Kimball muttered. “That bear wasn’t real.”
Kimball also rose to his feet and started to back away. Another guttural, rolling sound from the bushes followed. My stomach ached as I held back another laugh. It sounded like Devin grunted as he choked on a bone. But they didn’t notice the awkward, strangled sound. Instead, they kept backing away.
Neither of them remembered the pack.
The same clump of trees trembled again. Devin lay on the ground, just like me, while he made it appear that something ominous stalked toward them. Steve jolted when his back ran into a tree. He let out a cry and scrambled farther away. I inched forward. The pack was at least fourteen feet away, but they retreated and I advanced with every second. Since it lay on the ground, I had a very vague hope of drawing it away before they noticed it was gone.
Kimball stopped, almost fifteen feet away from where they had been. He paused, gaze tapered, when Devin gave another low growl. I forced my body to continue to crawl. Disbelief that this had worked so far hurried me along. I doubted they'd fall into our hands this easily for long.
“I can’t see it,” Kimball muttered. “Can’t be a bear. We’d see it . . . right?”
“Cubs?” Steve asked.
Kimball’s expression darkened. “Hope not. Go take a look.”
