Chapter Six
After everyone had broken down their tents and packed their bags, they had a quick, cold breakfast of energy bars and jerky before heading out. Roz had explained that it would likely be about three days to the trail that led to Old Roach. The first and second day would be the same route they would have taken if they were going the whole length. The third, they’d be going off course, on a lesser-developed path. Altogether, it was slightly shy of sixty miles to the ghost town. If they did twenty today, closer to thirty tomorrow, and the rest the next day, they would make Old Roach long before nightfall of the third.
The woods beyond the meadow were thick and dark, much like yesterday before the boulder canyon. Already, the trees were changing slightly, with fewer cottonwoods the higher they climbed. Aspens were still plentiful, but for the most part the trees were different varieties of pine. Despite the gradual lack of leafy foliage, the pine here was dense and tall, and at ground level very little sunlight made its way down to them. So much of the Rockies in other parts of the state had been thinned out by the pine beetle, and Fiona found it strange to walk in a forest that hadn’t been affected by it. Her childhood hikes had been like this. She could vaguely remember seeing trees this old and thick here in Colorado maybe twenty or thirty years ago, ancient and grand.
Most of the ascent was gradual, with a few switchbacks up some steeper parts, the rest a gentle upward slope. Their campsite last night had been at near seven thousand feet, and Roz had told them the next camp would be closer to nine. Fiona was used to these kinds of elevations, but that didn’t necessarily make it much easier on her. With the weight of her pack and the constant upward slant, she was struggling within the first hour. Luckily, the trail followed the same river they’d walked along yesterday, which meant she didn’t have to carry as much water as usual. Every couple of hours, the five of them could stop and filter more into canteens, leaving their larger water bladders empty.
While the trail was generally easy to see and follow, Fiona could tell that, unlike more traditional, established trails, the one they were following hadn’t been fully developed or dug out. Fiona had volunteered for several trail-breaking and maintenance crews in the past, and the labor of creating or maintaining any kind of trail was intense but long-lasting. Maintenance or building anew meant digging, cutting, and basically plowing a path through the woods, generally entirely with hand tools. What they walked on today was likely something natural—an old game trail, perhaps. Some work had been done here and there to cut the fallen trees and branches back, but the earth hadn’t been turned up and plowed.
For the most part their path was usually easy to see and follow, but occasionally the five of them had to stop as Roz got her bearings. She would pause, stare into the woods, sometimes glance at her compass, and then start walking. When this happened, it was rare that Fiona had guessed the right direction to continue—all directions were the same to the naked eye. Then, as they started walking again, she could occasionally see the subtle signs that this was, in fact, the trail. Whatever minimal work had been done to cut this path for them, it was subtle on purpose. The farther they went, the more certain she was that having a guide was an absolute necessity back here. Had they been on their own, they would have been totally lost. They could follow the river back to the road if it actually came to it, but that gave her little comfort out here in these dark woods.
Few talked in what remained of the morning and early afternoon. Roz maintained some distance, some twenty or thirty feet ahead, and Fiona suspected Jill knew she needed to keep quiet for now. Once or twice, Fiona caught her and Carol sharing a satisfied grin, almost seeming to gloat, but they were careful to do this when Roz’s back was turned.
In fact, the only time anyone spoke much before their late lunch was when they hit the bottom of a long, steep rock scramble. Approaching it, Fiona assumed they would start moving in a different direction, parallel to it, until they reached an easier ascent, but when Roz stopped and dropped her bag at the base of a tall boulder, she realized she was wrong.
“We’re going up that?” Sarah asked.
Roz nodded, grinning slightly.
“How?” Fiona couldn’t help but ask.
Roz laughed. “Very carefully. Actually, it’s easier than it looks. Everyone will be roped together, and we’ll go slow. I know a little shortcut.”
Fiona and her friends shared a dubious glance, and Roz laughed again. “Don’t worry, ladies. I’ve done it a hundred times. Get something to eat and rest for a few minutes before we head up. We’ll take another longer break at the top, so be quick about it now—a snack and some water.”
She wandered away, disappearing around the edge of another boulder. Fiona suspected that she would continue to keep her distance, from Jill, if no one else, until this was all over. The thought made shame and guilt swell in her chest, her throat constricting with tears. She took a couple of deep breaths and blinked, grateful again for her sunglasses.
“Is she serious?” Sarah asked, still staring up the scramble.
Jill clapped her on the back. “Don’t worry about it. The expert will tell us what to do.”
Fiona could detect sarcasm in her voice, and she was very glad Roz wasn’t here to hear her. She was going to have to tell Jill to shut it, and soon, or they might finally have a real fight. At some point Roz was going to lose it, and however confident Jill might be, she would lose.
The four of them sat down in the shade of the boulder, and it was blissfully cool in the thin mountain air. There had been little to no vegetation on the approach to the scramble, and the sun was scorching and fierce. Fiona was so relieved to release her pack that she had to stifle a moan. She could barely muster the energy to get a snack out of her bag, and her energy bar tasted like dust. She leaned onto her pack, closing her eyes, and started to drift almost at once.
“This is great, isn’t it?” Jill asked, startling her awake.
“Hmmmm?” She made herself sit up, rubbing her face.
“Out here, far away from everything and everyone. Isn’t it awesome?”
“Sure, Jill. Whatever you say.”
Jill frowned. “What the hell does that mean? Aren’t you glad to be here?”
Fiona sighed. She didn’t want to get into this with her now, so she shrugged.
“What are you guys talking about?” Carol asked. She and Sarah sat a few feet away.
“Nothing,” Jill said. “Fiona is being an asshole.”
“For God’s sake,” Fiona said, standing up. “What do you want from me? You want me to be excited about a bad idea? Cause I’m not. This is stupid. We should have gone back.”
“You’re the one who asked Roz to do this! I thought you wanted to keep going.”
“No, Jill. You did. And you bullied everyone into going along with you.”
“You didn’t say anything like this before.”
“Of course I did! You just didn’t listen. As usual.”
“But why—”
Roz appeared then, a coil of climbing rope hanging off one of her arms. She paused when she hit the shade, taking in the scene unfolding between them.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“It’s fine,” Jill said, standing up. “Fine and fucking dandy. Can we get this done already?”
Jill knocked Fiona with her shoulder as she walked by, and for a wild, tantalizing moment, Fiona almost pushed her back. She fought with her anger for the next ten minutes as the five of them roped up together, a loose loop around everyone’s waist. Fiona tied in fifth since she would be last in line behind Carol. Her blood was pounding in her ears, and she was even hotter than she’d been walking in the noontime sun. When they finally approached the scramble in earnest, her hands were still shaking with suppressed rage. She didn’t have time to be afraid of what was coming.
Nothing had prepared her for this kind of climb. Almost immediately, she realized she was out of her depth. Neither her months at the gym nor her training on the rock wall in town had equipped her for anything this strenuous or difficult. While the ascent wasn’t vertical, it was near enough that everyone was forced to nearly crawl on their hands and knees as they moved up the hill. Her boots slipped several times, and the drop onto her knees was worse each time. A little trickle of blood started running down her calf after her third of fourth slip, and her pack was threatening to pull her back and down the hill. The rocks here had pieces of quartz that scratched and cut her palms, skinning them, and she snagged a fingernail on one so hard and so painfully at one point that she called out.
“Okay back there?” Roz called from the front.
Fiona was biting her lip so hard she could only nod, but Roz, not hearing anything different, started moving again. Eventually the slack rope cinched her waist, and she was forced to start inching her way forward again. She lost count of how many times she slammed onto her knees, the weight of her pack throwing extra force into the pain. On top of all this, the sun shone on them as if it were trying to fry them on the rocks. Sweat was streaming into her eyes, stinging and hot, and she could do nothing to stop it, still busy trying to stop herself from falling backward into oblivion. Tears ran down her cheeks freely, almost of their own will, her mind focused, razor sharp, on moving onward, upward, for what felt like eternity.
When Carol stood upright in front of her, she realized it was finally over. Standing up herself, on solid ground at last, she immediately burst into tears. She was dimly aware of the others removing the rope around her waist and of someone finally steering her away from the cliff, gently pushing her into the shade of the nearby trees.
“Holy shit, look at her hands,” Carol said.
Fiona took a deep, rattling breath and finally opened her eyes. The others were clustered around her, clearly concerned, and she managed to shake her head.
“I’m okay. I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you sit down for a second. Take that pack off and let me see,” Roz said, moving forward.
“I’m fine,” she repeated.
Roz didn’t listen, gently removing Fiona’s pack. She pulled Fiona’s arm, leading her to a thick trunk that had fallen near the tree line. Fiona sat down on it with numb legs, watching, detached, as Roz dug through her own pack for the first-aid kit.
The others were standing in a cluster some ten feet away, Jill looking distinctly guilty, Sarah and Carol concerned, almost scared. Jill was staring down at the ground, and Fiona’s throat constricted again, her shame back, wanting all this to be over.
“Let me see,” Roz said, grabbing her hand.
Fiona hissed at the pain but didn’t pull away. Her hands were bloody shreds, and the nail she’d pulled hung on her middle finger on a thread of bloody gore, the back of that hand dark with dried blood.
“Jesus, Fiona. Why didn’t you stop me?”
Fiona shook her head, unable to come up with a single reply. There was, after all, nothing to say. Even in the midst of perhaps the worst pain she’d ever experienced, she hadn’t once thought of asking for help.
Roz spent the next few minutes cleaning and bandaging Fiona’s hands. She started by simply washing off the crusted blood with clean water, causing the pain to sing through her, then wiped at them with several little alcohol pads, each of which was dyed a deep red by the time Roz discarded it. When she was done, the tip of Fiona’s finger was firmly bandaged, and her hands had been wrapped in gauze, almost gloved.
“That should do for now,” Roz said, sitting back on her heels. “We’ll need to change the dressing on your finger later since it’s bleeding so much.”
“Thanks,” Fiona said.
Roz touched her knee. “You don’t have to feel bad, Fiona. Anyone can get hurt. I just wish you’d said something earlier. You have to ask for help if you need it.”
“I wanted…” Fiona shook her head. “I didn’t want to slow anyone down.”
“You’ll slow us down more if you can’t keep going. No one will be mad at you if you need help.”
When Fiona didn’t reply, Roz put her fingers on Fiona’s knees, the sensation causing gooseflesh to rise all over her.
“I’m worried about you, you know,” Roz said.
“I wish you weren’t.”
“These guys forced you into this—I know that, but I really wish you’d gone back, even alone.”
“I can take it, Roz. I promise.”
Roz smiled at her. “I know you can. You’re one tough cookie. If I’d lost a fingernail, I’d be crying right now.”
Fiona laughed, knowing she was being flattered, but loving it anyway. “You’re damn right I’m tough.”
Roz smiled more broadly and squeezed her knees again before standing up. “You okay by yourself for a bit? I need to get something to eat.”
“Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”
Roz squeezed her shoulder before walking away. The others were seated far across the little clearing they were in, and, almost as if she’d been waiting for her turn, Jill came toward her.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Jill sat down next to her, both quiet for a long time.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Jill said.
Fiona was surprised and must have shown it, as Jill smiled back. “I know. You’re not used to me admitting when I’m being an asshole.”
“I didn’t say—”
“It’s okay, Fiona. I know you’re thinking it. And I’m sorry if you think I bullied you into all this. I really thought you’d come around. I honestly didn’t know you still wanted to go back.”
Fiona stared at her, realizing that she meant it. Jill was so oblivious to anyone but herself, she hadn’t read Fiona’s actions as anything but consent. Not that this was new. Jill had acted this way throughout their friendship.
Once again, there was nothing to say, and Fiona nodded. Jill brightened at once, clearly understanding her response as acceptance, and shot to her feet.
“Let me have your pack for a few minutes. I’m going to take a little more of the weight.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know. I insist. You’re hurt. Let me help you out for the rest of the day, at least. I want to, okay?”
“Okay, Jill. Thanks.”
Jill smiled at her, looping Fiona’s backpack off her shoulder, and Fiona’s spirits rose a little at the sight. Maybe, despite everything, things would be okay after all. Jill was trying to make amends, and despite her injuries, the long rest had done Fiona some good. She’d embarrassed herself in front of Roz again, but that was nothing new. The woman was obviously just being nice yesterday and today—she was fooling herself to believe there was any other motive. If she could let go of her crush, maybe she wouldn’t have to feel so bad about how she acted in front of her. She could just be herself.
Fiona took a long pull from her water bottle, dumped some on her face, and scrubbed briefly at the sweat and crusted tears with her fingertips. The warm water was still cooler than the hot, almost sultry air.
When she opened her eyes, Roz had approached again, so silently she was almost startled. Roz grinned at her.
“Better?”
Fiona smiled back and nodded. “Much.”
“You okay to keep going soon? In fifteen minutes or so?”
Coming from anyone else, she might have found the question a little patronizing. After all, what choice did she have? They couldn’t stay here forever. But when Roz asked her, it didn’t come off that way.
“I’ll be ready.”
“Good,” Roz said, flashing that gorgeous smile. “Give me your bottle, and I’ll fill it for you. Eat something solid, too. We have a long way to go before camp.”
She walked away, Fiona’s heart lifting even further at the sight of her lithe, almost mesmerizing gait. The last hour had been a disaster, but it hadn’t broken her, and it hadn’t broken the group. No one was angry with her for the delay, and with the scramble behind them, things could only get better.