part0012

“Uh, oh, I must have forgot to tell everyone else, so Fiona, don’t take this personally, but no watches or any other technology besides your lights are allowed on this trip.”

“Wait, what?” Jill asked. “Not even my GPS?”

Roz shook her head. “Especially not that.”

Sarah frowned. “Is that some kind of rule here?”

Roz shook her head again. “It’s a personal one. I promise you won’t even miss them in a couple of days. Make a pile here, please,” she pointed, “and the guys will keep everything safe for you until we see them again.”

Fiona and the others looked at each other. They, like her, were all clearly trying to decide whether to argue. She saw Sarah and Carol share that silent exchange of theirs and Carol shrugged. They started taking off their watches, and Fiona followed suit. She set it in the pile and took her phone out of her back pocket, placing it near the others. She’d put it on airplane mode back at the gas station, knowing they’d lose service a few miles down the road, but useless or not, it was strange to let it go. Jill held back a little, obviously livid. Her face was red, her lips pinched, and she was clearly doing everything she could not to say anything. If Roz noticed this reaction, she didn’t say anything, instead walking away to check in with her assistants and the horses. Jill let out a little breath of frustration when she was far enough away not to hear.

“The nerve!”

“Oh, give it a rest,” Carol said. “What difference does it make? The watches don’t matter, and it’s not like our phones work back here. I’m kind of glad they’ll be safe. I should have left them at home.”

“Okay, but like, what about my GPS? I wanted it to track our progress and the trip for my blog post when we get back.”

Carol stared at her levelly. “And? So you don’t get to do that. Are you going to let it ruin the whole day?”

Fiona was surprised. Of their friend group, only Carol could get away with challenging Jill like this, and she didn’t usually bother. Carol was fairly placid and even-keeled, rarely letting other people rile her. Even when she did challenge Jill, she almost never called her on her pettiness, as that usually meant that Jill would sulk even more.

“Fine,” Jill said, ripping off her watch. She threw it onto the pile and dropped her phone next to Fiona’s. She held her GPS, stared at it, and then set it down on the ground before storming off.

Carol sighed. “Goddamn it.”

Sarah touched her arm. “She’ll get over it.”

They glanced over at Fiona, guilt in their eyes, and Fiona tried to keep her expression neutral. They knew she was Jill’s best friend, but she didn’t like Jill’s moods any more than they did. She shrugged.

“Yeah—don’t worry about it, Carol. Thanks for saying something. It has nothing to do with the stuff, anyway. Jill doesn’t like being told what to do.”

Carol nodded, one eyebrow up. “Ain’t that the truth. And Roz’s going to be calling the shots this whole time.”

“I hope it won’t be a problem,” Sarah added, her tone subdued.

Fiona knew better, and she was pretty sure her friends did, too. In fact, some of her earlier reluctance at having a guide stemmed from the fact that Jill hated not to be in charge. Still, if anyone could make Jill listen to her, it might be Roz. Judging from her recent and quick exit, Roz already seemed to have an instinct for avoiding conflict with her, and Jill’s crush might help a little, too.

Jon walked over to them then, smiling and holding a stuff sack. “Let’s put all of that in here. I promise everything will be safe and sound when we see you again on the other side.”

Fiona leaned down to help him, the two of them making quick progress. Their contact with the twenty-first century was cut off, and a quick, warm current of something like relief swept through her. It was comforting to be off the grid. She and Jon stood up together, and he smiled at her.

“And don’t worry—you really don’t need any of this stuff. Roz knows what she’s doing. She’s the best in the business and knows these woods better than anyone.”

“I’m not worried.”

He smiled again. “Good. Oh, and hey. You should take advantage of this rest stop. She won’t be this easy on you guys after today.”

He wandered off to join the other young men, all of whom were sitting on some rocks by the side of the river, eating their lunch. Including Jon, there were four of them altogether, all in their early twenties, all a similar outdoorsy type, lean and tan with scruffy hair and beards. She imagined this was a nice summer job for them between semesters at school, perhaps, or part of some kind of job training for something similar later on. Except for Jon, they hadn’t introduced themselves, but she didn’t think that was a slight on their part—just the usual divide between clients and providers. Two of them had pulled their green bandanas around their necks, and Fiona decided they wore them for visibility. It was easy to spot them from anywhere. The green was almost fluorescent, unnatural and obvious in this setting.

The river itself was calm here, a kind of low burble over stones that opened into a large pool about twenty feet away from where she was standing. She walked over there, stretching her butt muscles as much as she could and occasionally bending down to touch her toes. While they’d made a lot of progress riding the horses this far, she would be glad to be back on her own two feet tomorrow. She wasn’t sure her butt or thighs could take more than a day of riding.

Roz was standing by the pool, staring at the water, her hands on her waist and elbows akimbo. The trees covered the sky entirely here, but it was still hot even here in the shade. The pool looked shallow, maybe two or three feet deep in the center, and the surface was buzzing with the activity of different insects—gnats, dragonflies, and water spiders dancing across the surface. A few puffs of cotton from the trees drifted through the air, lending the beautiful space a magical, ethereal feeling. Roz turned at her approach and smiled at her.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

Fiona couldn’t reply with words, but she nodded, training her eyes on the water.

“Nothing back here has been named, not on any map anyway, but I always think of this as Serenity Pond.”

“It fits,” Fiona managed to say.

They were quiet for a long, awkward pause, for Fiona at least, and she fought to think of something to say.

“Have you been doing this long? Guiding people, I mean?”

Roz shrugged. “Depends on what you mean. I’ve led groups in this forest for only the last three years, but I’ve been doing similar work for about ten.”

She didn’t say anything more, and Fiona couldn’t think of a way to ask for more details without seeming nosy. Instead, she let the peaceful quiet of the place wash over her, closing her eyes to listen to sound of the woods. The birds were squawking to each other, and somewhere nearby she could hear the chiding whir of a squirrel. Beyond this, nothing—no cars, no planes, nothing but the light laughter and talk of the others behind them to suggest that anyone on earth existed besides the two of them here by the pond. When she opened her eyes, Roz was watching her, a slight grin pulling at the corner of her mouth, and Fiona flushed with heat.

“What?”

“You get it, don’t you?” Roz asked, so quiet she was almost whispering.

“What do you mean?”

“This place. You get it. I can tell. Not everyone does, but you do, already.”

Fiona was about to reply, but Jill was walking toward them, almost bouncing as she approached.

“Wow. Look at that!” she said, her voice echoing across the pond. “Man, that’s pretty. And inviting! Do you think I have time to wade in for a minute?” She didn’t wait for a reply, leaning down to untie her boots. “Come on, Fiona. Take off your boots.” She turned her head around and shouted, “Carol! Sarah! Get over here! We’re getting in the water!”

Fiona tried to throw Roz an apologetic look, but Roz had already wandered away, joining the men she worked with. Fiona hesitated and then knelt to unlace her boots, slipping them off with her wool socks. She and Jill clutched their forearms together and waded into the water, the cold so biting Fiona almost leapt out. This was snow run-off, and even pooled here, its chill was so bitter it made her feet ache. She tried to turn back to the shore.

“Oh, stop being a baby,” Jill said, laughing and yanking her farther into the pond. “You’ll wish you could have your feet in here after a few days of walking on them.”

Fiona’s feet were starting to go numb now, and she gritted her teeth to keep from complaining. Sarah and Carol were smart enough to stay on the shore, waving at them and pretending not to hear Jill’s repeated invitations. Fiona finally managed to coax Jill out when Jill almost tripped on her own numb feet. They had just enough time to get their boots on and cram a quick meal before Roz told everyone to get ready to go.

Jill rolled her eyes. “Taskmistress.”

She said this loud enough that Roz might have heard her, and Fiona flushed with embarrassment. Luckily Roz didn’t seem to notice or chose to ignore her. Sarah and Carol shared that same silent, worried glance, and Fiona wondered then how long it would be before Jill decided to confront Roz. Judging from this morning, it would be soon.

As they all mounted up and got back on the trail, her worries about Jill and Roz deepened. She and Jill had been friends for over twenty years, but it had never been an easy friendship. When they’d met as teens, Jill had immediately taken charge. At the time, this had seemed natural. As a teenager, Fiona had been so anxious and depressed, she’d almost felt like she deserved to be bossed around. They’d supported each other as they came out, first to one another, having, perhaps, sensed it about each other from the beginning. Neither had ever had even the remotest kind of romantic feelings about the other, and Jill had been the only one to actually date while they were still in high school—an equally large number of boys and girls. By the time Fiona started having more confidence in herself, the habit of stepping aside when a pretty girl showed interest and going along with whatever Jill wanted was so deeply ingrained that she hardly dared to try to change things.

College had helped a little. They’d gone to different schools, and Fiona had made different friends, ones that let her make choices, pushed her to open up more and become her own person. Carol was one of them, and, unrequited crush or not, she’d had an enormous influence on Fiona’s growth. She’d met Sarah later, too, and the three of them had become close, eventually sharing an apartment their senior year. Jill had visited once in a while, but she had always remained Fiona’s friend first, theirs second. It was rare that the three of them hung out without Fiona. In fact, Fiona half-suspected they wouldn’t see Jill at all if it weren’t for her, but she never asked them about it.

After college, she and Jill had moved back to their hometown, and while things had certainly changed a little between them, their friendship still had an unequal power division. While Fiona was more aware and more ashamed of this dynamic post-college, she still did very little to challenge it beyond spending a little more time away from her. Limiting exposure to Jill was the only option to avoid being led around like a dog. Still, she usually saw her a couple of times a month, and they took a long, annual trip together. And in the end, despite all the generalized bossiness, she loved Jill like a sister—a bossy older sister, but a sister nonetheless. Jill could be incredibly supportive, and she always had her back. Her insistence on doing crazy, sometimes dangerous things could occasionally turn into a thrilling adventure. But Jill could also be tiring, like today, and like last March when she had pummeled her into this trip.

Still, Fiona reflected, things could be worse. These woods were incredible, like nothing she’d ever seen. They were thick, dark, far denser than most of the woods in Colorado. The pines were healthy, full, the aspens and narrow-leaf cottonwoods in full dress. She’d taken a few trips to the East Coast to backpack and hike, and this forest almost reminded her of those woods. The trail they were following was clearly delineated, but beyond the narrow path lay nothing but a snarl of growth and decay. The sun was blocked for most of the trail—a relief in this heat—but occasionally she yearned for it to break the shadows around her. Even in this long line of horses and people, they seemed already isolated, alone.

Her horse, as if sensing her apprehension, nickered a little and lifted its head back. She leaned forward and patted its neck, glad for its warm strength. She didn’t know a thing about horses, but she liked this one. All it asked was for her to stay on its back, which she could do. Maybe when they were back in town, she could see about having more riding lessons.

After the deep woods, the trail narrowed considerably for about a mile, winding through a series of enormous boulders. Here the sun beat down on them in glaring power, the white light harsh and reflecting off the quartz in the stone. Her sunglasses did little to block the light, and she pulled the brim of her hat a bit lower, cursing her earlier anxiety about the shadowed trail. At least then she hadn’t been baking.

They suddenly stopped, the giant rocks still hemming them in on all sides. Roz and her horse at the front were blocked from her view behind a boulder ahead, and Fiona craned to the side, trying to see or hear what was happening. Sarah, directly in front of her, made a quieting motion with both hands, and Fiona repeated it to Jon behind her.

Roz called from far away in the front, her voice echoing off the rocks in eerie reverberations. She sounded very distant, not mere yards away.

“Hang on back there, guys,” she called. “I heard something.”

Fiona’s stomach gave a great lurch, and she closed her eyes, listening hard. She could hear only the light breeze whistling through this boulder canyon. Then she heard birds, another angry squirrel, and somewhere not far from here, running water, now sounding a bit more like a river. Then, suddenly, she heard something strange. She’d noticed it before, she realized then, but hadn’t paid attention to it. It was a THUNK, following by a long pause. Then another THUNK.

She turned in her saddle, looking back at Jon, but he put a finger in front of his lips to shush her. His eyes were wide, startled. He mouthed something, and she shrugged, raising her hands, not understanding. He mimicked a swinging motion with both hands clutched together and mouthed the word again. Ah, she thought, suddenly understanding: ax. Someone was using an ax on a tree nearby. The boulders made sound travel in weird ways, but whoever it was must be close for the sound to be so loud and distinct.

Roz startled her by shouting again. “Let’s get out of this canyon, everyone, and I can go see what’s happening.”

The boulders lasted another ten minutes, and by the time all the horses had cleared them, Fiona was certain the other sound had stopped. Roz led everyone a little farther into the trees, searching for a clearing large enough for all of them. She finally simply stopped when a smallish break in the trees appeared on the trail. She turned her horse around to face them.

“Jon, you and Mark stay here with the ladies. I’m going with Ben and Fred to check out what we heard. I think we might have scared them off, but we need to find out anyway. Ladies, you can dismount and stretch a little while we wait, but don’t wander off too far, please. I want to make sure we make camp in the next hour.”

Roz rode off with two of the men, all three of them moving much faster than they had as a large group. They disappeared back into the boulder field, their horses kicking up divots of earth in their wake.

Jill slid off her horse, followed by Carol and Sarah. Fiona had a slightly harder time of it, realizing as she tried how stiff she’d become. They’d been on the horses for an hour or so since lunch, but the morning’s ride had apparently caught up with her. She saw her friends wincing, too, and she and Jill shared an amused smile as they both rubbed their butts and the insides of their thighs.

Jon and the other guy, Mark, dismounted, Mark taking the horses’ leads and moving them as a group closer to a clump of ferny growth. It was nice to see the animals enjoying their snack, and she was amused at their happy grunting and the occasional sight of their long tongues flicking out to snag some of the greenery. Sarah, Carol, and Jill had walked over to a large, fallen tree and were sitting on it, joking and laughing. Fiona almost moved to join them, but in the end, she stayed where she was, watching the horses with Mark. They chatted, Mark explaining a little about their diet, but mostly they stayed there, simply watching the animals’ antics.

After a few more minutes, she heard Jon approach. He’d stayed farther away, watching the trail for the others, and when she turned toward him, she saw that he was clearly upset—angry even. The deep frown was foreign and strange on his normally open face. He slid his bandana off his head, revealing a surprisingly bright head of red curls. He wet the bandana with his canteen and rinsed off his face before tying it around his neck.

“What do you think that sound was?” Fiona asked.

“Probably what it sounded like—some asshole chopping wood.”

“Really? Way back here?”

He nodded, still glowering. “You wouldn’t believe what people will do to save a buck.”

“But how? Aren’t we miles from the road at this point?”

He shrugged. “They might have driven in, for all we know. People do crazy stuff all the time. You’d be amazed what we’ve found back here before.”

“Does someone keep an eye on the forest all year? I mean when groups like ours aren’t here?”

He nodded. “Yes. Roz. She’s the year-round groundskeeper as well as the lead guide in the summer.”

Almost as if he’d summoned her, they heard the horses coming back through the canyon, the sound amplified by the stone. Roz appeared first and then the two men behind her, the three of them pulling up about ten feet away in a line abreast.

“That was quick,” Jon said.

Roz nodded, appearing troubled. It took a moment for Fiona to read her expression. Her brows were low, her face grim, and Fiona detected something else, something unexpected: fear. A quick glance at the men on the horses confirmed this reaction. They were pale, their eyes stark and their lips tight. Whatever the three of them had seen, they didn’t like it.

Roz threw a glance at the two men on either side of her and shook her head slightly at Jon before lifting her chin at Fiona’s friends sitting far away. Fiona understood this charade at once: Roz had obviously found something but didn’t want to talk about it in front of her or the others.

“That bad?” Jon said, almost under his breath.

Roz nodded at him. “Later.”

Whether that meant she would talk to her, too, or only Jon, neither of them argued. Jon moved at once to lead the horses back to the trail. When her friends came over, Jill, Carol, and Sarah asked a couple of light questions about what Roz had found, and Roz when gave a general, almost casual response, they didn’t push for more—clearly satisfied with what was obviously, to Fiona, a lie. The others mounted up, Roz moving to the front. Before Jon could do the same, Fiona grabbed his arm.

“What the hell?”

“I don’t know, but it’s obviously bad.”

“You have to tell us, too.”

He shook his head. “It’s not up to me. Roz will tell you what you need to know, if anything.”

She was about to object, but he removed her hand, gently, from his arm, and walked away to his horse. Realizing she had no recourse here, she climbed up on her own horse, and they were soon on their way. She would have to wait for an explanation, but she promised herself she would have it. Whatever Roz and the others had seen out there in the woods clearly concerned them all.