by Lindy Zart
The one-eyed bird squawks and takes off, the high branches shaking upon its departure from the tree. Leaves fall, spiraling to the ground.
I turn to Avery. “See? It’s already leaving. I’m sure the others will follow.” She grabs my biceps and squeezes until I stop walking. “What?”
“It isn’t leaving.”
Sure enough, the crow lands in a tree ahead of us, its profile in view and a single beady eye trained on us. I wonder how it lost the other one. It verbally announces its dislike for us once more. If I had to guess, I’d say its animosity is strictly toward Avery. Birds know. They can’t be fooled by pretty exteriors and sugary words like humans. When the crow moves to a closer tree, I study it. It cocks its head, still and silent as we watch each other.
Okay, this is a little strange.
“Why won’t it go away, Ben?”
I put large doses of confidence in my voice as I say, “It wants to make sure we don’t hang around, that’s all. It can probably sense your fear.”
“What, are you suddenly a bird expert?”
“You asked.”
“We’re going to die,” Avery whispers.
“Oh, come on,” I scoff. “How is a crow going to kill us?”
“It’s going to attack us, and peck out our eyes, and then we won’t be able to see, and we’ll fall off a cliff, and we…will…die.”
I slowly look her way, waiting a moment to reply. “Do you think maybe you’re overreacting a bit?”
Avery glares at me.
“Let’s keep moving.” I take a step and she takes one with me.
As soon as we move, Avery reaches for my arm, clutching it between her hands. We’ve intentionally touched a total of one time in the months of our acquaintance. But then, it only took once for everything to blow up around us.
I pause, glancing at Avery. She stares ahead, her expression resolute.
It is one thing to help her; it’s another to get sucked into her warped reality. I’m not letting that happen. No touching is a good idea. I try to pull away and Avery only digs her nails more firmly into me. I grind my teeth around the sting and resign myself to the situation.
As we make our slow trek through uncivilized terrain, the bird flies from tree to tree, always keeping us within its sight. Its cry is freakishly loud, ominous. I get paranoid the longer it hovers.
It seems to be tracking us.
“It isn’t going away!”
I open my mouth to respond but am unable to produce a sound as all the crows, seemingly offended by Avery’s voice, spiral into the air, blackening the sky in a death cloud. Their shrill cries pierce my eardrums. I gape at the sight, never before seeing so many crows together at once. Even louder, and shriller, is Avery’s scream as she dashes off. Her hair flies behind her like a waving flag of surrender.
I shout at Avery to stop, but she keeps moving, not even looking where she’s going. Eyes trained up instead of ahead, her face is set in a caricature of horror. I grab her arm and swing her around when she almost sprints past me. She about ran right off the side of the mountain. “Avery! Avery, stop!”
Avery blinks and finally focuses on me. I squeeze her shoulders reassuringly, staring into her eyes. She looks terrified. I frown in response. The fight slowly goes out of her. She slackens against me, breathing heavy, smelling of fear. Avery trembles, but doesn’t make any attempt to flee.
“What are you doing?” I ask quietly, gentling my grip on her arms.
“I hate birds,” she whispers.
“I am aware.”
Avery stiffens. “It’s coming back!”
When the crow swoops toward us with evil intent, a curse falls from my lips at the same time Avery screeches directly into my ear. I shake my head to dislodge the ringing sound as a force rams into me and sends me off balance.
And then I’m falling.
4
AVERY
I am losing it. No, that’s not right—I have officially lost it.
My one thought as a horrific scream is torn from me is this: I am in hell.
When the crazy bird dives toward my head, I react without thought. I screech and push past Ben, unintentionally bumping into him, and I sprint.
I refuse to be bird bait. No beaks are touching these eyes. Heart pounding, I run without direction. I just have to keep moving, and then it won’t get me. When Ben shouts from somewhere behind me, I know the crow has him. A small cry leaves me, picturing his intense brown eyes pecked away. I hesitate. He has glasses, so maybe he’ll be okay. I mean, at least his eyes will be okay, and that’s something.
Even as my stride shortens, my brain roars at me to keep going, to let him be the sacrifice to ensure my safety. I almost do it too, but my stupid legs, as if controlled by my heart, stop working. Panting, covered in sweat, I spin around. Eyes shifting back and forth, I search for my coworker and the bird. I find neither.
“Ben?” I say through a burning throat.
A single word reaches my ears, strangled and quiet. “Help.”
Heart trying to jump from my chest, I rush toward the nearest drop-off. It’s a downward ride of trees, rocks, and most assuredly, death. A body of water is far below, looking like a sliver of blue from this point. I try to swallow, but my throat is closed. The sweat on my body has been replaced by clammy fear.
Where is Ben? I heard him cry out. Didn’t I? This whole excursion is to learn how to better get along with each other. If I killed Ben, I’ll be fired for sure, maybe sent to prison. I can’t spend the rest of my life wearing a single color for every day of the week.
“Avery.”
My gaze drops and I freeze. Ten feet directly beneath me is Ben, and the only thing keeping him from plummeting down the ridge is a misshapen tree flush with the ground. “I thought you were dead.”
I don’t know how he manages to glare so thoroughly at me, especially in his present condition, but I feel the wrath of his eyes all the way to my soul. “Don’t sound so disappointed,” he gets out around gritted teeth.
I don’t respond.
Ben’s voice is surprisingly calm as he asks, “Did you push me?”
“Well…” I rub my forehead. “I mean…not intentionally.”
“How do you unintentionally push someone?”
A change of subject is needed. “You lost your glasses.”
“Yes, and my legs are tangled around a dead tree. It’s a glorious day all around.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I’ve felt better,” he says darkly.
“How blind are you right now?”
“I don’t know, things are pretty blurry. Why?”
I lift my middle finger and wave it back and forth. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I’m not that blind.”
“Just checking.” I set my hands to my hips and stare at my teammate. There is dirt smeared across his forehead and his red shirt is torn near the hem. “How are you going to get back up here?”
Ben lowers his head, his shoulders lifting as he inhales. His dark eyes are intent when he looks up at me. “I’m pretty sure I sprained my ankle. I don’t think I can get out of this while holding on to the backpack. I’ll have to throw it to you, and then I’ll get myself up. Do you think you can catch it?”
I look from Ben to the ledge. If he underthrows, and I dive for it, I’ll be in the same position as him, or worse. That’s a chance I’d rather not take. I unconsciously take a step back, as if my body is readying for something my brain hasn’t yet accepted.
“Avery.”
I focus on Ben, going still under the intensity of his daze.
“Everything we need is in this backpack. The compass, the map, food and water…” Ben speaks after a brief pause. “Tell me you can do this, Avery.”
Something about the way he says the words straightens my spine and returns my gaze to his. Ben’s counting on me. He needs me. I won’t let him down, not in this. I nod briefly.
He releases a long breath. “Okay.
Great.” Ben’s expression turns serious. “Widen your stance, brace your legs, and no matter what, catch the damn thing, all right?”
“All right.” I do as he says, arms outstretched and ready.
“Here we go. You can do this.” Face twisting with determination and pain, Ben hefts the backpack over his shoulder and straightens his arm like a whip, the backpack soaring from his hand. It flies through the air, rocketing toward me as it gets larger and larger.
Just before it smacks me in the face, I catch it. I stumble under the force of it, and fall to my butt. I land on a small rock, but even the sharp sting that stabs my backside can’t dampen my elation. My face splits in a wide grin as I hug the bag, smelling fresh air and Ben.
“Avery? Everything okay?”
“I got it! I got it!” I laugh and clamber to my feet, holding the bag as I jump up and down. I stop and point to the backpack. “See? I got it!”
For the first time in a long time, a genuine smile that is meant for me crosses Ben’s features. Not the tight, fake ones he produces under the watchful eyes of Duke Renner, but a real one that makes Ben’s eyes sparkle and his face light up. I falter under the power of it.
As if realizing what he’s doing, Ben’s smile disintegrates.
I swallow thickly, turning at the loss of it. “Can you get loose or not?”
His response is stiff and takes a moment to come. “Yeah.”
“Maybe you can speed it up a bit?” I snap to hide hurt I pretend is nonexistent. “We have a lodge to find before nightfall.”
“Anything for Queen Avery,” he mocks.
I wait with my back to him as he hauls himself up the side of the mountain, silently fuming. I’m hot, and sweaty, and tired. I want to go home, where it’s clean, and cool, and I can watch reality television as I eat takeout. My mouth salivates at the thought of pasta from my favorite Italian restaurant.
Rosa’s Italian Cuisine is a little shop ten blocks from me, mostly undiscovered by the masses. It’s been one of the best surprises since relocating from Montana to Illinois. All the meals are homemade by Rosa Rossetti and have phenomenal flavor. I’d give about anything right now for a big bowl of noodles slathered in sauce. I’d probably even forsake Ben, although I’m sure after I was done stuffing myself full of noodles, I’d feel a little bad. Okay, a lot.
I shudder as I think of the near attack of the crows, wondering where all the black beasts went, and when they’ll make another appearance. Clamminess covers me with cold dread, and I instinctively take a step back, bumping into Ben as I fight terror no amount of counseling has been able to control.
“Watch it. I don’t want a repeat trip down the side of a mountain,” he snaps.
My eyes lock on Ben, remembering the way he carefully handled me during the crow situation. Ben’s missing his glasses, there’s a cut along his cheek oozing blood, and he’s favoring his left leg, but he’s in one piece, and that’s what matters.
“You helped me. You didn’t have to, but you did. Thank you.” Warmth swims through me as I hold his gaze. It gives me hope that maybe, eventually, we’ll be okay.
Ben’s eyes flicker, and just as quickly, his face hardens. “Don’t thank me. I did have to help you. You’re my partner in this hellhole, and I need you in order to pass this. That’s it. Don’t make it out to be more than it was.”
My cheeks burn. Apparently, we won’t be okay any time soon. “Any kindness you show is a ruse, is that it?”
He steps closer, his voice low and husky when he answers with, “That’s exactly it.” Ben stares at my mouth before moving back, taking all the air in the vicinity with him. He smirks dangerously. “Everything I do has an ulterior motive, and a selfish one at that. You would know exactly how that works, wouldn’t you?”
I stamp my hands to my hips as I show him my profile, frustration and guilt slamming into me. “I explained—”
“You didn’t explain, Avery.” Ben firmly takes my arm and turns me until I can only look at him. His scent is sweet and spicy, wrapping around me like a warm, angry blanket of sinful temptation. “You made excuses. Only thing is, there is no excuse for what you did.”
Swallowing back the urge to try to, once again, make him understand my betrayal, I begin to walk. He’s right. What I did was shitty and uncalled for, and I have no good reason for my actions. I have my reasons, but they don’t justify my behavior, not toward Ben.
I have not been myself since I moved from my home state of Montana to Illinois. I felt it was necessary to change my public demeanor, and I’ve been lost for a while now. Until I can be completely upfront with Ben, things are at a standstill. Possibly irreparable at this point.
The sound of Ben’s voice directly behind me causes me to jump. “Have you seen the map?”
I turn to face my coworker. He’s kneeling on the ground, digging through the backpack with a black expression on his face. One leg is straightened to keep his weight off it. The leg is toned and covered in fine hairs and cuts. He looks haggard and beat up by nature. I’m sure I don’t look any better.
“I saw you put it in the backpack when we started up the last trail.” I think.
The look on his face gets deadlier. “It’s not here.”
Ben turns the look on me. Without his glasses, the fierceness of his eyes is harder to ignore. My breath catches. I’m glad the glasses are gone; they were hiding such loveliness. I didn’t mean any of what I said. I find Ben terribly attractive, even when he’s scowling at me, as he is now, and I guess, pretty much always. He makes me so mad with his rude behavior and then I have to retaliate.
“We need that map,” he all but growls.
“Maybe it somehow fell out of the backpack when you took a tumble down the mountain.”
“Right. Only I didn’t take a tumble down the mountain.”
The sharply spoken words echo through me, bringing an uncomfortable twinge with them.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I reply with a sniff. “I mean, it’s possible it seemed like I pushed you, but—”
“Where’s the compass?” Ben cuts in, his voice rough and unpleasant.
“Compass?” I frown.
“Yeah. Compass.” He turns to me. “The contraption that is going to tell us which direction to go and help us find the others, since we apparently have no map.”
“I don’t know anything about a compass. Didn’t you have the compass?”
Ben turns to stone. “I handed you a compass before we walked up the last hill.”
I scrunch up my nose. “No. I don’t think so.”
“I know I gave it to you.”
“If you did, I’m sure I gave it back to you, or put it in the backpack. I don’t remember.” I truly don’t, and who can blame me? This whole filthy, uncivilized scenario has me traumatized.
“Are you—are you kidding me?” Ben slams his hands on the top of his head and keeps them there. His shirt rides up, showing a hint of lean muscle.
My heartrate trips and I redirect my gaze from him. “If I didn’t give it to you or put it in the bag, which I’m sure I did, it must have somehow been lost when I was attacked by that rabid bird. When I next see the employees of Extreme Retreat, I will demand to know why they allow birds out here. That’s completely uncalled for.”
He sputters, his face turning red. “You lost it? You lost it?”
Heat burns my cheeks. “Maybe? I don’t know. It isn’t like I planned on being chased by a crow. I could have gotten seriously hurt, and you’re worried about a stupid compass. You know, you could have at least tried to help me out, instead of falling down the side of the mountain.”
Ben mutters something.
“What? What was that?”
“Son of a bitch.” Ben gets to his feet, heaves up the backpack, and flings it in the air. A bird squawks as the bag soars by, within inches of hitting it. He stalks toward me with a faint limp, danger dancing in the depths of his dark eyes. He looks like a beast. A virile, unstoppable machine
of vengeance.
“That was unnecessary.” I step back, and Ben follows.
His voice is low and controlled when he tells me, “We are now out of a compass. Because you took it from me, along with the map, right before we climbed up the mountain you shoved me off.”
“Shoved? That’s a little harsh.”
I take another step back, and again, he closes the distance between us.
“Okay. Then we’ll backtrack until we find it. It has to be around here somewhere.” My face burns under the force of Ben’s focus. “Why are you looking at me like that? What is it?”
Time pauses as I watch a vein bulge in his forehead, and then he explodes.
“How are we supposed to find anything without the map, or the compass?” Ben roars, kicking at a nearby bush. He swears, reaching for his bad leg he used to abuse the foliage. He spins away, and then turns back to add, “Have you also somehow missed the fact that we are surrounded by trees? How are we supposed to have any idea which way to go?”
“We’ll find another checkpoint. They have to be all over the place.”
Ben’s jaw hardens.
“I guess…” My mouth is terribly dry. “I guess we need a compass or map to find those too?”
“We’re—”
“Don’t say it,” I plead.
“Lost.”
I close my eyes as my stomach drops. Guilt races through me. This is at least partially my fault. We are surrounded by treacherous earth and unknown danger, pretty much the worst scenario ever to find yourself in when lost. I hate when things are my fault. It makes my stomach queasy. Anger is better than guilt. I can handle anger.
I snap open my eyes, glare at Ben, and lie. “This isn’t my fault.”
He laughs at me. He actually laughs.
“I shouldn’t even be surprised,” Ben says conversationally. “Ever since you stepped through the red door of Sanders and Sisters, my life has been completely ass-backwards.”
Ben’s words evoke a flutter of disquiet in my chest. Because it’s true. It’s been one miscommunication after another with us since the moment we met. I turn from his view and look at what faces me on all sides. Tall, long-limbed trees, and whatever lives among them. They look ominous; I swear they’re mocking me.
