Ireland shivers at my left side. “Seriously, Vick? Why?”
“I gave it everything and in the meantime lost the people who were important. I lost you all and my family. The first people I should have been speaking God’s love to, are the people I didn’t take the time to remember.”
“It’s not the ministry that took those things.” I pull the sleeves of Mark’s sweater over my hands. “You’ve been a great mentor to many women. It’s just the balance was off. You can’t throw it all away.”
“No kidding.” Ireland sniffs. “Really think about that. If you’d have put all your crazy-making energy into your family, they would have been out here hiding years ago.”
I brace myself for Vicky’s anger, but instead she starts to laugh.
“You still know me very well.” Vicky reaches across me to Ireland. “I guess I don’t know what I would do differently, I just know it would be different. Maybe I’d make my family my first ministry. And I know I’d stay in touch with all of you. I would have been there for Hope. I would have stood by you, Jenna, when you were trying to conceive. And Ireland, I wish I could have been there to hug you.”
Ireland tips her head onto my shoulder. “I wish I’d stuck it out, but then again, I left my family for their own good. I just can’t remember exactly what that meant.”
“If you could have seen yourself the way we saw you, none of that would have happened.” I run my fingers through Ireland’s hair. Instead of stiffening at my touch, she relaxes into me. “We were all selfish. I hope you’ll forgive me for leaving you behind. In a way, I did the same thing your mother did.” My voice catches with the guilt of my actions, or inactions. “We’ve hurt each other, and we’ve hurt others. This isn’t the way it was supposed to work out.”
Ireland squeezes my hand. “No worries. The three of you gave me the best years of my life. While I was at Emery, I had a family. It’s better than I thought I’d ever have.”
“I know what you mean,” Vicky answers. “Emery gave me a glimpse into a warm world. I can’t believe they’ve closed the house. How many other girls will miss out on the opportunities that kind of home has to offer?”
“If I had the money, I’d buy it.” But I’ll never have that kind of cash. If we ever do make it back, we’ll jump into the world where money matters and it separates people into categories. Vicky and even Ireland are not in my group.
Vicky straightens, sending a puff of ice-cold air into our warm, damp, body-odor filled bubble. “Why don’t we do that? We could buy Emery House. Well, not we, but Cambridge Ministries could.”
“It’s not a Christian house. And if it had been, I never would have come to Emery,” Ireland says.
“One of the great things about Emery is the different kinds of people that end up there. There’s an opportunity to meet God in a natural way. I’m not sure that’s how to say what I mean. It’s just that Emery didn’t make me love God. It didn’t make me love all of you. Emery gave me the chance to love it all.”
“And that’s the way it should remain.” Vicky is sitting tall now. Her head pushes the tarp up and allows a whiff of chilled air to creep in near my leg. “We won’t make being Christian a requirement to live there, but we’ll keep the rent low and we’ll give the students the opportunity, like Jenna said.”
The smile pulling across my face feels unfamiliar, like purpose is growing up through the cold ground and blooming in my chest. It feels like something else to live for. Like that moment when you say something and the people you love nod in complete agreement.
“I want a piece of that action.” Ireland reaches across the space to Vicky and clutches my hand with her other. “There’s a purpose here I really want to be a part of.”
It may be a fantasy that we’ll come together and make this crazy plan work, but it’s a dream I’m willing to throw myself into if only to give my legs the added encouragement it will take to get out of here.
At our backs, somewhere in the dense woods, a stick breaks.
I peer from a gap I’ve made in the tarp. The first glow of sun rolls over the mountain. We made it through the night. I really didn’t believe we would. There wasn’t a minute of sleep, but I don’t even care. We’re alive and not injured any worse than before.
A week and a half ago I could barely make it out of bed in the morning because of the self-pity consuming me. Now, I’m charged because a bear didn’t slice me up and make kibble of my flesh. It’s a new perspective, to be sure.
I nudge the girls. “We should get ready to move.”
With little noise, we pack up the few things that aren’t already on our bodies and move to the edge of the trees. From here we should be able to see Grizzly Adams make his way to the waterfall. Then off we go. By tonight, we could all be home.
I look over Vicky. She should probably spend a day in the hospital getting that poison oak under control. There’s a crusty ooze caking her ash-smudged face and arms and her eye is still quite swollen from the fall. I hope there isn’t a mirror at Grizzly’s cabin.
Ireland leans forward. I follow her gaze. Way off in the distance, barely visible in the dim dawning sunlight, our mountain man makes his way along the path. There’s so much hair on his head and face, the features are hidden. He could easily be mistaken as an animal. Maybe we’ve found the real Bigfoot, but his feet aren’t especially large.
A chill shakes my body. Vicky lays a calming hand on my leg.
The next step is ours, and I can only pray we find what’s needed when we follow his path back to wherever this man comes from.
Once he passes over the ridge, and we can’t see him anymore, we rise together and start down the hill. Our pace is fast, quicker than I thought we’d be able to move. There’s a mix of excitement and nerves fueling my body where protein is absent.
It doesn’t take long and we’re somewhere we’ve never been before. The path becomes more beaten down here and runs back and forth along a hillside. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s go straight down.”
“The switchbacks are here for a reason.” Ireland looks back at me. “But I think you’re right. No tumbling, though.” She looks at Vicky with that statement.
“Got it.” Vicky sits down on her rear end and starts to slide down the hill.
I set my pack on my lap running my arms through the straps backward and start down. The ground bumps beneath me. It doesn’t take much to keep the momentum going. My palms burn with the friction of the grass and dirt. Every twenty or so feet, we find the path, scoot over and slide the next section. I can’t believe Grizzly Adams makes this climb every morning. He must start the second the sun begins to rise.
When we come to the end of the steep decline, we follow the path. We’re all looking hard to spot evidence of anything that points to human life, but I see nothing yet. Finally, around a large rock, we come to a cave opening where the path gets wide before going off the other way.
“I think this is it.” My heart plunges with the realization that this guy doesn’t have a cabin like the real Grizzly Adams. I guess I should be thankful that he doesn’t seem to keep a bear as a pet either.
“No way.” Vicky shakes her head. “That’s a cave. I’m not going in there. With my luck on this little adventure, there’ll be bats or hyenas in there. There isn’t a spot on my body that hasn’t been mangled. I have nothing left to give.”
I step closer to the entrance. It’s wide. Tall enough for me to stand as I go in, but Vicky and Ireland would have to duck. “It smells like food.” I stick my head into the opening. “Yes. There is definitely food in there.” My mouth waters at the thought of a real meal.
Vicky comes two steps closer. “What kind of food?” I knew that would get their attention.
I sniff deep. “I think it’s some kind of smoked meat. Maybe fish.”
Vicky turns to Ireland. “You eat fish don’t you?”
“Vegan, Vick. It means no animal and no animal products. Fish are animals, aren’t they?”
&
nbsp; “Technically, they’re fish. I think that would be an okay exception this time.” Vicky nods like she’s the new vegan authority.
Ireland chews her bottom lip as if she’s running through her options. The mother in me really needs her to eat something, but another part of me, the part that loves her just as she is, roots for the vegan to win.
Ireland rubs her dust-covered cheek. “I don’t know. I’ve been hungry so long that my stomach doesn’t even bother to growl anymore. I feel like I’m floating away, and I can’t get back.” She shakes her head. “Maybe I could have a small serving of fish. Halibut smothered in buttery citrus sauce, with scallops and shrimp. And garlic cheese rolls.” She slurps and swallows.
I think we’re losing her.
Chapter 20
JENNA
This cave thing. I have to be the one to do this.
I failed them last night. The fire is my thing, and I couldn’t do it. I downright failed. The taste of it is bitter in my mouth. I haven’t been able to swallow it away. It’s the only meal I’ve had since the cougar meat. There were so many cold sleepless hours to toss the letdown around in my head, to feel the guilt as Ireland and Vicky shivered next to me. Even as we made our pretend plans for a future, I could feel their ends coming and my part in bringing it.
I need to make it up to them. I need to do it for myself.
I try to step forward, to enter Grizzly Adams’s home of sorts, but my feet will not make the move. Please, just go forward.
A tear swells on my lower eyelid, blurring my vision. I give up, Lord. I’m worthless. I can’t do anything.
My body fills with warm strength. That’s it, isn’t it? The truth. It’s not all about what I can provide. It’s not even about making it out of here alive, though I certainly hope we do. It’s about not giving up, but giving my problems over to God.
“I’m going in.” I feel something tap my arm. It’s the flashlight, a precious tool because we have no idea how long the battery will last. Vicky holds it out to me, but she doesn’t come any closer than she has to.
“Please, be very careful.” Vicky looks at me like I’m leaving for the war. Maybe this is something like that, I don’t know.
“I’m going with you.” Ireland grips the top of the entrance. “Vicky, you stand guard out here and watch the path very carefully.” She squats and picks up a stone. “If you see or hear anything, hit this rock on the edge of the cave three times then hide over there.” She points to the brush edging the cave’s opening.
Vicky nods. She seems too terrified to speak, but she takes the rock and holds it to her chest. Her head dips, and I assume she’s praying—an act I really appreciate right now.
At the mouth of the cave, rocks form a fire pit with smoke still rising from the ashes. Along the wall, wood is piled. The pieces are ragged and rough, not like the firewood most people stack in neat rows. This stuff looks like it’s been cut without benefit of saw or hatchet. There’s a stack of moss and pine needles farther in.
The ground rises then begins to dip slightly. We walk deeper in, but I have to duck now. My heart is beating so loudly I wonder if he’ll hear me from wherever he is and come back to get us. That frightens me, but the reality that I’m wandering into a cave filled with spiders, that is terror. I imagine them crawling all around me. They’re watching me, ready to drop down into my hair. I start to fidget. Without Ireland I would have run screaming out of this horrible place already.
I shine the dim flashlight around. It’s what I don’t see that is the big disappointment. There is not one sign of technology here. Nothing man-made. A pile of furs, lots of them, in one corner. This must serve as his bed. And a stack of rocks, that’s about it.
Ireland crawls around, rubbing her hands across the dirt floor.
“What are you doing?”
“There must something there. Maybe he has a trap door or a hidden compartment.”
I lift one of the stinky furs. “I don’t think this guy has seen Scooby Doo. And I doubt he feels the need to have great hiding places. This may be it.”
“It can’t be. I know a woman who sold her home and moved into a tiny house. It’s only eighty-four square feet. She owns only what she needs to get by, and it’s a whole lot more than this guy has. He’d consider her a hoarder.”
My light picks up something deeper in. “Look.” I edge closer. My arms go numb. There’s a stack of bones. Long ones and short ones and a few that are wide and flat. “Why do you suppose he keeps these?”
“I don’t know. But I’m starting to feel very uncomfortable. The aura in here is dark.”
Tingles run over my skin. “We haven’t found anything though. This looks like we’re out of luck. If Grizzly isn’t the way”—I shake my head—“we’re never getting out of the wilderness.”
Ireland rubs my arm. “Don’t talk like that. There’s got to be an answer here. This is a temporary setback. Don’t let it get you down. We’re not at the end of the cave. Maybe we’ve missed something.”
I turn back, but I can’t see the entrance from where we are. The cave curves to the left, and it keeps going. We go deeper and the air starts to feel like someone left the refrigerator door open. Wouldn’t it be great to find a fully functional fridge stocked with food? I’d really love a cup of coffee with half the cup being caramel creamer.
It doesn’t take much for me to start picturing a complete kitchen back here in the nowhere. An oven, table, chairs, even a microwave. This is my oasis in a tunnel. Deserts have nothing on the wilderness.
Along a wall, a hide is stretched. It’s attached to a frame with what I think must be sinew. If I hadn’t homeschooled, I’d have no idea about this, but now I have the honor of being a touch more grossed out than before. My imagination remembers the girl in Island of the Blue Dolphins. She was lost, but in a different way than us. And she was alone. At least the three of us have each other.
We’re still going deeper, when my ear picks up a faint noise. “Did you hear that?”
“There was something.” Ireland leans toward the way we’ve come.
The sound echoes again, and the reality of what the noise is hits me like a truck. “Vicky. She’s giving the warning.” I shine the light toward Ireland in time to see the fear in her eyes.
Crouching, we make our way back. The pounding becomes panicked then stops. We wait, listening before we go any farther. There is movement, rough movement, not Vicky’s kind of sounds. Ireland pushes me against the wall. She puts her finger across my lips and takes the flashlight from my hand, switching it off and leaving us trapped in the dark.
She doesn’t have to tell me. My voice is paralyzed along with the rest of my body. All except my heart that’s raging so hard, I feel it in my throat. I can’t even swallow.
In the darkness, our breathing sounds like a speeding train.
He’s at the entrance. I can hear his grumble, low and wild.
Ireland pushes me deeper into the cave. We’re trapped. I need a moment to sit and cry, but there isn’t that kind of opportunity here. I’ll die without the chance to throw a final tantrum.
VICKY
I always run the scenarios when faced with a new situation. In the mental list of all the possible outcomes, this one did not exist. It didn’t exist because I couldn’t allow my mind to go to a place this awful, this bleak. It’s the worst of all possible results from our ill-planned strategy.
Okay, maybe not the worst, but it’s bad. Very bad.
I pull my knees tight against my chest as the cold of the rock behind me seeps through my clothes and into my bones. Brush grabs and snags my sleeves and pant legs. Even my breath is sharp and sudden, my lungs convulsing in the wake of my fears.
And he’s there, maybe ten feet away. The smell of him, stale body odor and dead animal skins, permeates the air. It curls around my stomach. Clasping my hands together, I mimic the slow purposeful breathing I’ve seen Ireland do every time I start to ride her nerves a little too hard. Any gagging, and I’m
done for. And if he spots me, Ireland and Jenna won’t stand even the slightest chance of survival.
He grumbles like an animal warning off a rival. Thuds accompany his steps as he makes his way into his home, and toward the only two people I have left on this earth. My face tingles with tears. Jenna and Ireland are trapped. At this point, the idea of being alive without them is far worse than a reality of death. My mind grabs for any plan that can bring them back to me.
But being a savior is a skill I do not possess.
I could run now while I have the chance. Maybe I could find help before it’s too late. No. If that were possible we’d be out of the endless wilderness and home sharing stories of our adventures over cups of hot tea. I can’t leave my post if there’s any chance I can save them.
Beside me all three packs are tucked in a hiding place alongside the cave. I have the extra clothes, the tarp, and even our water. They’ve left me with what I need to have a chance, but how can I ever go on without them? This moment, even if I survive, will haunt me for the rest of my life, and I wonder if the memory will even follow me into eternity.
I hear him come back out, but there hasn’t been a struggle, at least not that I could pick up. Jenna would surely scream if he’d found them. The thought gives me the only hope I have right now.
There’s a solid whack of something hard coming down on something soft. The scent of blood fills the air. I peek around, unable to let my mind wonder what he’s mutilated. A rabbit’s body lays lifeless on a stone. Mountain man’s back is toward me. I watch him peel the skin from the pink muscle. Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t cry. If I’ve learned anything out here, it’s that sometimes animals must be food. It doesn’t seem real when your plate arrives at a restaurant or it’s packaged at the store.
He takes a flat, white object and scrapes it over the inside of the skin, pulling off the fat that clings and dumping the slime into a hollowed-out gourd. I can’t help it. My stomach growls. I really want some of that rabbit. I think I’d be willing to try it raw if that’s the only choice I had. He ducks back into the cave with the hide. The meat lays out on a rock. I could grab it. He’d assume it was an animal.
If We Make It Home Page 18
