part0018

“Ah, there she is.” She didn’t sound happy.

“Back there,” Fiona managed, pointing vaguely behind her.

Jill must have seen something in her face, as she rushed forward, just in time to catch Fiona as her knees weakened and buckled.

“Jesus!” Jill said, grabbing her under her armpits.

Roz and Sarah joined them, and all three helped Fiona across the camp, lowering her gently onto a second log. Jill knelt next to her, meeting her eyes.

She put her hand on Fiona’s forehead and told the others, “She’s cold as ice.” She grabbed Fiona’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Fiona was shivering now, but she managed to raise a shaky hand and point back the way she’d come. Her teeth were chattering as she said, “Back there. On a tree in the clearing.”

All four of them looked that way and then at her.

“What? What is it?” Jill asked again.

Fiona shook her head, unable to say anything.

“Someone get her something hot to drink,” Roz said, pointing at the little stove. “There’s some coffee.”

Sarah came back with a steaming plastic mug. She knelt and placed it in Fiona’s hands, wrapping her fingers around it.

“Take a drink, honey,” Sarah said.

Fiona tried, but her trembling hand made some of the liquid slosh out. Sarah steadied her and helped her raise the cup to her lips. The warmth coursed through her at once, and Fiona closed her eyes, the pleasure intense despite the bitter flavor. Almost at once, she felt steadier, stronger, and when she opened her eyes, Sarah seemed relieved.

“Thank God. You were as white as a sheet.”

“I’m okay now,” Fiona said, her voice stronger than before. Her fear, so overwhelming less than a minute ago, felt tamped down, but she could sense it there, waiting to pounce.

Sarah took a deep breath, motioning for Fiona to do the same. She did, and on the second breath, the air was no longer hitching in her chest. They did this together a few times, the fear finally ebbing away again.

“Tell us what you saw,” Roz finally said.

Fiona pointed again. “Back there, in the clearing past the food, I saw a green bandana tied around the trunk of a tree.”

Everyone reacted as if slapped. Roz actually took a step backward, her eyebrows shooting up.

“What? Are you sure?”

Fiona nodded. “I’m sure. I got close enough to see it. It’s exactly like the ones the guys were wearing.”

Roz rubbed her mouth, staring down the trail. Her eyes were troubled, dark, and Fiona knew then that she was as scared as any of them. Her control and courage, which she’d managed to draw on all day yesterday, were slipping.

“I need to see it,” Roz finally said.

Fiona climbed to her feet, the world swaying, and Jill leapt forward, grabbing her arm. Fiona brushed her hands away, frowning. “I’m okay. I can walk.”

“You almost fainted—”

“I’m fine now. It’ll be faster if I show her.”

“Okay, but I’m coming, too.”

“No,” Roz said, surprising them both. “No more risks. We don’t know what’s back there. The fewer that go, the safer you’ll be. Jill, stay here with Sarah and Carol. We’ll be back soon.”

With a task to accomplish, Fiona felt more of her fear subside. She handed the mug of coffee to Jill and gestured for Roz to follow her. “Come on—let’s go.”

Everyone shared a look, and Jill gave Roz a quick nod of agreement. “Okay. But be careful.” Whether she meant Fiona or Roz, they both nodded.

Fiona walked back toward the clearing, her mind sharper than it had been since yesterday morning. Her previous terror—so overwhelming, so tremendous—had turned from a fear-choked fog into something else, something precise and clarifying. It seemed, as she walked, as if she could see and hear more distinctly now. Even her muscles and injuries, which had ached and groaned last night and this morning in a way she’d never felt before, seemed to have loosened. She felt agile now, almost quick, the sharp awareness in her head and body something like readiness.

They hit the edge of the clearing, and Fiona stepped over her previous seat on the fallen tree. Although it had been mere minutes since she sat there, smiling to herself, that version of herself seemed remote, removed, almost as if she’d never existed. She could hear Roz behind her, but she hadn’t waited or watched for her a single time since she’d started leading her this way. Part of her knew that if she allowed herself to stop or hesitate, this sharper, clearer fear inside her would turn into something like panic.

She paused a few feet from the tree with the bandana, and Roz walked up next to her, stopping to stare.

“Oh my God,” Roz whispered.

Roz was rubbing her mouth again, hard. Fiona touched her arm, and she jumped, her hand dropping back to her side.

“Sorry,” Fiona said.

“It’s okay. Just jumpy.”

Roz stepped forward and examined the bandana closely, her face pinched with confusion.

“There’s more than one,” she finally said.

“What?”

“There’s more than one bandana here. They’re tied together, like a rope.”

“Should we take them?”

Roz’s eyes flashed at her for a second, and then she nodded. She started working at the knot with her fingers but soon stopped to pull out her Leatherman. She flicked out a knife and cut at the fabric.

“Too tight.”

The bandanas loosened into her hands, one of them falling to the ground. She leant down to pick it up, holding both up for Fiona to see. They were quiet for several long seconds.

“Why are they doing this?” Fiona finally asked.

Roz frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Why are they trying to scare us like this? Why did they put those traps in the camp?”

Roz continued to frown at her, and then her expression cleared. “Oh, I see what you mean. You think the guys are doing all this?” She looked down at the bandanas in her hands. “That’s one version of events, I suppose.”

“Who else could it be?”

Roz met her eyes. “We heard someone else, remember? The first day. And I thought I heard something yesterday, too. That wasn’t the guys the first day, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t them yesterday, either.”

“Who, then? A stranger?”

Roz nodded. “I mean, there’s no way to know, but it would explain a lot.”

“How so?”

Roz stared into the woods before responding. “The guys were scared, too. That afternoon, and that first night, when we saw the marks in the trees. They were really spooked. And now this.” She held up the bandanas. “Almost like…” She shook her head.

“So you think they didn’t just leave us yesterday?”

Roz shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re right—it could be them. In fact, that’s more likely, given that no one else has been back here in these woods for a long time. They know this place almost as well as I do. I’m the one that trained them.”

“But if it isn’t them…”

Roz nodded. “Exactly. If it isn’t them, then they’ve been, I don’t know, abducted or something. Maybe hurt.” She held up the bandanas. “And someone took these from them.”

“But the horses! Where are the horses?”

Roz shook her head. “I don’t have all the answers, Fiona. I’m in the dark here, just like you. But like I said, you’re right. They could be doing all of this.” She sighed. “I don’t want to think of them like that. They’re my friends as much as my colleagues. I just can’t imagine them doing something like this—like any of this.” She paused, rubbing her mouth once more. Her lips were getting swollen from the repeated gesture, but it was clearly unconscious on her end—a tic, maybe, that came with stress.

What bothered Fiona was the fact that there were only two bandanas. Counting Fred, who’d left the first night, there should be four, total, one for each of the guys. Roz was upset, obviously closer to breaking than she’d been when they first made it to camp yesterday. Still, the idea of the two missing bandanas niggled anxiously at the edge of Fiona’s consciousness as the two of them stood there. She’d have to think about it more and wait to talk to Roz about it later.

“Should we look around?” Fiona asked. “See if there’s something nearby? A footprint or something?”

Roz gestured helplessly at the woods around them. “Where would we even start? This is the peak of the growth season. See all that brush? We wouldn’t be able to see anything even if we tried—not unless they’d been incredibly careless.” She frowned. “And so far, that’s exactly what they’re not. I haven’t seen a single sign of another person. The traps and the marks in the trees, yes, but nothing else.”

“So what do you want to do?”

Roz shook her head. “I really don’t know. It’s not safe here for anyone right now. Leaving someone, anyone, behind, would be stupid. But what else can we do? Carol will never make it back to the road on that ankle.”

Fiona touched her arm again, this time meaning to offer some comfort. Roz didn’t flinch or react in any way, so she left her hand there, squeezing lightly.

“There’s nothing closer than the road? Nothing at all? Somewhere we could all go?”

Roz started to shake her head and then paused, confusion clouding her expression. “Actually, now that you mention it…”

“What?”

Roz looked as if she were trying to remember something, her brows knit and the corners of her mouth creased. Finally, she shook her head. “I can’t be sure, but there might be something nearby. I need to see the map again to check.”

They made their way together toward camp, careful, but one step slower than a jog. Roz still held the bandanas loosely together in one hand, almost as if she’d forgotten them. Once or twice they had to walk single file to fit on the trail, but they naturally fell in step next to each other the moment they could. Fiona felt something like hope blossom in her chest. With Roz seeming more like herself, things were better, and some of that crystalized fear was pushed down and away.

Sarah and Jill leapt up from their makeshift seats when they saw them. Carol blanched at the sight of the bandanas. There was no mistaking that color.

“Oh, God,” Jill said, almost whispering.

Roz glanced down at the bandanas before handing them to Fiona. “Wait here,” she said, and rushed across the camp to her tent.

“What is she doing?” Carol asked.

“She’s going to check the map,” Fiona answered, staring at the bandanas. Both were stiff in her hands, as if still encrusted with sweat. She made her way to one of the logs and sat down, setting the bandanas down on the ground near her feet. She didn’t want to touch them anymore. She rubbed her hand on her dirty pants, the sensation of the gritty, green cloth still haunting her palm.

“You guys have to leave me here,” Carol suddenly said.

Everyone stared at her, and Sarah laughed. “Don’t be silly. No one’s leaving anyone.”

Carol shook her head. “It’s not safe here. We can all see that.” She peered up at her wife. “Don’t you see? You have to get out of here. I’ll slow you down.” She pointed at the bandanas. “Two people are already dead, maybe more. I can’t…” Her voice wobbled. “I can’t let anyone hurt you, too.”

Sarah knelt next to her and pulled her into a rough hug. Carol started sobbing into her shoulder, the two of them shaking quietly as she cried.

Jill gestured for Fiona to follow her, and they walked a few yards away.

“Did you and Roz think of something?” Jill asked.

“Roz wasn’t sure, but she thinks there might be something closer—somewhere we could all go.” She glanced at the two crying women. “We can’t leave them. No one should stay here, especially alone.”

Roz approached them then, making a wide path around Carol and Sarah. She gestured for Jill and Fiona to join her a few feet away, where the leafy branch of an aspen had fallen to the ground. The branch was obviously new, the leaves still green and hardly wilting. It created a kind of surface, however, and Roz was able to lay her map down on it for all three of them to see.

“Here’s us,” she pointed, “and here’s where we started. Here’s Old Roach, the ghost town, and here,” she indicated a closer spot, “is the old Powell homestead. It’s outside of this forest to the east.”

“What’s there?” Jill asked.

“Not a lot. Some stonework left from an old cabin, and a few old plows and things like that.”

“So why would be go there?”

“Because…” Roz traced a finger along a thin red line, “there’s a trail here. A well-used trail this time of year.” The other end of it met a road to the northeast.

“So what would that get us?”

“A phone, maybe.”

Fiona frowned. “Would a phone even work out here? I mean, even if we find someone with one?”

Roz shrugged. “Maybe. My phone works sometimes when I have it, but I’ve definitely seen a lot that don’t. It depends on the carrier.”

“What if we don’t find anyone?” Jill asked. “You say it’s well-used, but that doesn’t mean we’re guaranteed to find anyone there. Especially on a weekday. We won’t get there ’til what, Wednesday morning? Tuesday night, if we’re lucky? It’s going to take a long time with Carol.”

“It’s just another option,” Roz said. Rather than angry, she sounded disappointed, whether in herself or in the fact that she’d been shot down, Fiona couldn’t know. Judging from this entire morning, Roz was perhaps one or two steps from giving up, and she seemed to be grasping at straws.

“What are you guys talking about over there?” Carol called.

“I’ll go fill them in,” Jill said, walking away.

Fiona stayed with Roz, the two standing close enough that she could feel the heat from her arm. She squeezed her hand.

“It was a good idea,” she said, trying to break the awkward silence.

Roz squeezed back and then sighed. “No. Not really. Jill’s right. It might not work, and we can’t risk it right now. We need certainty. Any more mistakes and we could end up worse than we are now.”

“What are the distances again?”

“About forty to Old Roach, about twenty to the Powell homestead, and about thirty back to where we started with the trucks.”

“How long is the trail to the homestead from the road? If we didn’t see anyone at the homestead, I mean, and we had to hike all the way to the road.”

Roz bent down, examining the map. “I’ve walked the whole thing in one morning before. Can’t be more than six or seven miles one way.”

“So it might still be the fastest route to a road.”

“If it is, it would be only a three- or four-mile difference, maybe less, between that way and going back to where we started. If I get some paper, I can do the math, but I think that’s about right. Twenty-six, twenty-seven miles to the road through the homestead. And I wouldn’t be as sure of the route there, so it might take us longer, anyway.”

“Which one has the better trail? I mean in terms of elevation and hills and things like that?”

Roz examined the map again and shook her head. “The one to Powell might be a little flatter on today’s stretch, but tomorrow would be worse, for sure—uphill most of the way. You sort of walk down into that valley to the homestead from the road, if I remember right.”

“So that’s your answer,” Fiona said, lifting her hands. “Shaving off three or four miles isn’t enough to risk it. We can’t be sure we’ll see someone when at the homestead, so we have to assume we won’t, which means walking the whole way to the road.”

Roz’s expression cleared a little, and she nodded, obviously relieved. “You’re right. Thanks. I’m glad we thought it through. I wanted to make sure we weren’t leaving an option unexplored.”

“I get it. I really do. Let’s tell the others.”

She turned to leave, but Roz grabbed her hand, drawing her back around. Her expression was still strained, but some of that weariness seemed to have left her eyes.

“Thanks, Fiona. I mean it. I feel like…” She shook her head and laughed, weakly. “Like I’m losing my mind. I’m glad there’s a voice of reason around here.”

Surprised and pleased, it took Fiona a while to respond.

“You’re welcome.”