Chapter Fourteen
Fiona awoke with a start, almost calling out in fear. In her dream, she’d been trying to run away from something, but the branches in her way had been barbed, tearing at her skin and clothes. She’d been alone but knew someone or something was chasing her. The harder she tried, the thicker the brambles and thorns grew, so that eventually she’d been snared, web-like, caught and waiting for something from the woods behind her.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Roz whispered next to her.
It was so dark Fiona could barely see her silhouette. They were still cocooned inside the blanket and the hammock, and Roz felt warm and comforting pressed next to her. Her shoulder was stiff with pain, but the bandage didn’t seem wetter than before, so at least there was that. Judging from the crick in her neck and the numbness on the right side of her face, she’d been sleeping on Roz’s shoulder. She felt a little thrill of embarrassed pleasure, glad it was too dark for Roz to see her face.
“How long was I out?” She kept her voice low.
“Maybe two hours. I’m sorry to wake you, but we have to try to keep going.”
“No. Thank you for getting me up. I’m sorry you had to just sit here all that time. Did anything happen?”
Roz shifted a little next to her. “I heard some noises, maybe half an hour after you dozed off—footsteps up at the top, that kind of thing, but nothing since. They didn’t talk, or at least so I could hear.”
“You think it’s okay to move?”
“Even if they’re still up there, they won’t be able to see us. I can barely see you, and you’re right next to me.”
Fiona rubbed her eyes, peering into the dark. It was true—even squinting, she couldn’t see anything clearly. But that created its own problem. How on earth were they going to navigate their way down these rocks in the dark?
“You’re probably thinking the same thing I am,” Roz said.
“How are we going to do it?”
“The moonlight is blocked a little here from this boulder, so it might be a little brighter a few feet from here, but we’re going to have to go slowly. Once we’re down and in the trees, I think we could risk a dim light if we keep it covered as much as possible. But I’m not sure it’s a good idea when we’re exposed like this.”
Fiona tried to rotate her hurt shoulder a little, but the resulting pain made her grimace. She’d have to try to keep it still and not use her left arm.
As if sensing her discomfort, Roz asked, “How’s that shoulder?”
“It’s fine. I mean, it hurts like hell, but I think it stopped bleeding, anyway.”
“That’s good. Let me know if you need a break, okay? Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“I won’t.”
They spent the next couple of minutes getting their blanket and hammock folded and back in the little daypack. Without the covers, Fiona was instantly chilled. At this elevation, the air didn’t hold any heat without sunshine, and she was immediately shivering. Roz pushed something into her hands, and she felt her fleece hat. Once she had it on, she was a little warmer, but she was going to be very cold soon.
Packing made another problem suddenly obvious. Roz had been carrying the bulk of their supplies in her backpack, including their water filter, but had left her pack in the woods during their hasty escape. As it was now, they had less than two liters of water for the two of them and no way to filter more. As Roz had mentioned, they’d also lost their compass and, as Fiona recalled the situation, half their food and the first-aid kit. Roz had likely thought of this already, so she saw no reason to bring it up, but it brought their situation even greater peril. If they didn’t make it back to safety soon, they’d be in real trouble.
She heard rather than saw Roz slip the backpack on, and then she leaned closer to Fiona, the warmth from her body radiating off her like a beacon.
“Okay. Let’s get this over with. I know it’s hard to see, but try to follow me as carefully as you can. Keep low, just in case. It’s maybe a couple hundred yards. Touch my back if you need to stop. Try not to say anything once we’re exposed.”
“I understand.”
Roz immediately moved away, and Fiona finally made herself get up onto the balls of her feet, her shoulder sending out a flash of agony. She had to ignore that for now. Seconds later, she was scooting down a long, flat boulder, skittering to a stop when her boots hit the bottom. Roz had waited there and offered her a hand, and both stood upright for the first time in hours. The relief was almost enough to forget where they were, and she rubbed her butt to nurse the feeling back into it.
It was indeed brighter here out of the shadow of the boulder, but barely. Fiona could see the curve of Roz’s cheek at she stared up at her, and the glimmer of her eyes, but everything in front of them was still a gray-black shadow. She sensed that it sloped downward here, sharply, but it was like peering into an abyss.
Roz crouched down, and Fiona did the same, and then it was as if Roz disappeared. Fiona crept forward, waving her hand waving wildly in front of her, and then Roz’s fingers found hers. Roz guided her forward slightly, and by inching forward, Fiona was able to navigate down and over the next set of rocks and small boulders.
Things went on like this for what felt like hours. Roz, however, without a single word from Fiona, seemed to sense when Fiona needed a break, and the two of them would stand still for a few minutes, letting their backs relax and their anxiety lessen before moving onward again.
Fiona tripped twice, but both times it was a minor slip, as they were quite literally creeping along the ground, almost sliding down on their butts. Still, the jarring punch of the falls sent pain screaming through her skinned hands and injured shoulder, and on the second slip, she couldn’t help the little sob that broke free of her clenched jaw.
“You okay?” Roz whispered, speaking for the first time since the safety of their boulder.
Fiona nodded and then, remembering, made a quick sound of assent.
“Almost down,” Roz said, and started moving again.
Whether she’d meant this last as encouragement or whether she outright lied, it wasn’t true. By the time they were, in fact, at the bottom, Fiona was quivering with fatigue, barely capable of putting one foot in front of the other. She’d kept going only through pure will. If they didn’t clear this field by dawn, they’d likely be killed here. Still, perhaps half an hour before the last of the scramble, Fiona began to wonder if perhaps being shot wasn’t such a bad thing. Anything was preferable to this endless torture.
When her feet hit solid ground, she almost didn’t believe it. The difference was immediate, the feeling of actual earth, not stone, obvious beneath her boots, but she couldn’t face the possibility that she was fooling herself. It took Roz pulling her into a rough embrace to realize that, once and for all, it was over.
Roz held her for a long time, Fiona silently crying into the rough texture of her shirt. She slid her hands under the backpack so they could more easily hold each other, and Roz’s warmth seemed to seep into her like a hot bath. She was dimly aware of Roz kissing the top of her head and squeezing her almost as hard as she squeezed back, but neither of them said anything. They weren’t safe yet. Those people, whoever they were, could be anywhere, waiting for them. Even in the woods, they would have to stay as quiet as possible.
Finally, she felt Roz relax and took a step backward, the cold returning almost at once. She suddenly felt worn, paper thin, wrung completely free of any last reserve of energy. If she didn’t sit down soon, she would simply collapse. Roz, again as if sensing this predicament, grabbed her hand, and the two of them started moving again. Fiona barely managed to shuffle along, her feet leaden and clumsy.
She sensed the trees rising before them, finally spotting their tall heads as they began to block out the stars. Soon, they were in the woods again, and she felt safe for the first time in hours. Still, Roz kept them moving, the two of them stumbling over several fallen branches, boldly announcing their location to anyone listening. Finally, Roz stopped and pulled Fiona down to the ground.
The two of them collapsed next to each other, and Fiona soon heard Roz digging around in the backpack. She felt the mouth valve for her water bladder pushed into her hands, and the taste of the cool liquid was sweeter than any water had even been before. She had to stop herself from gulping it all down. She heard some more shuffling, and then a dim, red light appeared, illuminating the little spot they were seated in. Three fallen trees bracketed the space around them. They sat between the trunks, Roz leaning on one, Fiona on another facing her, their knees touching.
Roz had the headlamp cupped in her hands and lap, but even with the bare minimum of light it let out, Fiona’s heart gave a great lurch of sorrow at the sight of her. Roz’s eyes were sunken in her face, deep and dark, the red light making her pupils dilate so far hardly any iris remained. Her face was streaked with something dark—dirt and sweat, probably, and her hair was a tangle of matted, curly locks.
Not thinking to stop herself, Fiona leaned forward and brushed a sweaty piece of hair off her face, running her fingers down the edge of her cheek. Roz smiled and took her hand in hers, squeezing it gently.
“You’re exhausted,” Fiona said. It was a statement.
Roz’s face hardened a little, that stubborn pride rising into her eyes. “So are you.”
“Yes, but I got some sleep, at least. Why don’t you close your eyes for a little while? I can keep watch.”
“No. We have to keep going. We might be able to make it to the road if we hike all night.”
“Not if you fall down from exhaustion. Two hours. One. Please.”
She saw the temptation in Roz’s eyes and leaned forward again, pulling Roz toward her with their linked hands. Roz met her eyes, and Fiona smiled, sensing victory.
“I’m not asking you, Roz, I’m telling you. You need some sleep. One hour is not going to make any difference. We’ll still be knocking around in the dark whether we leave now or then.”
Roz sighed and then nodded, her eyes downcast. She clearly didn’t like admitting her own weakness. The two of them wrestled the hammock and blanket out of the pack again, and it took some time to arrange themselves comfortably. Eventually, Roz simply lay down, curled up with her knees almost touching her stomach, her head on Fiona’s lap.
“We should turn off the light. To save the batteries,” Roz said.
Fiona snapped it off, plunging them into impenetrable gloom. Roz fell asleep almost at once, the tension leaving her body and her breath slowing into an even, deep, peaceful rhythm. Fiona was afraid she might be tempted to fall asleep herself, so she moved her back slightly, pushing into an uncomfortable knot on the fallen tree behind her. Once or twice, her head started to nod, and she pushed back into it, hard, to wake herself, or lightly slapped the side of her face, the sting of the cut rocketing her awake once more.
Strange noises from the woods came to her at times. The occasional whir of what was likely a bat or woken squirrel was often followed by the squeak of something caught in a predator’s claws. Far off, she could hear the tumbling water of the river, but closer, she heard movement once or twice off somewhere to her right in the woods. Even in her sleep-deprived stupor, she knew instinctively that it was an animal, but that realization didn’t stop the terror that flashed through her both times as it caught her ears.
It was tiring staring into darkness, and she occasionally shut her eyes, pinching them closed to make the sensation uncomfortable rather than sleep-inducing. This didn’t work well, so she was forced, for the most part, simply to stare blindly into the nothing around her.
The time passed very slowly. She tried counting at first but was distracted time and again by the noises in the woods or by Roz’s slight movements, stilling herself in both cases, clenched with anxiety and worry.
At one point during her endless wait, she realized she was unconsciously running her fingers through Roz’s hair. She stopped for a second only to recognize that it obviously hadn’t woken her for however long she’d been doing it. Roz’s hair was thick, and Fiona’s fingers worked out some of the knots from their god-awful day. She smiled at herself in the dark as she continued. A couple of days ago, if someone had told her she’d be sitting in the dark with Roz, playing with her hair, she’d have told them they were crazy. Now, in their current situation, it seemed almost natural, normal. It was perhaps four hours since she’d been shot, less than twelve since they’d left the others back in the woods, and the experience had brought them together. She felt a strong, possessive tenderness welling inside her. What that meant in the long run, whether this would go anywhere once they were safe again, was impossible to say. In fact, safety was less than a pipe dream at this point, but she spent the rest of the hour imagining the two of them together, doing normal things together, somewhere clean and safe.
Finally, when she could no longer fool herself into thinking that less than an hour had passed, she gently shook Roz’s shoulder. Roz sat up at once, clearly startled, and Fiona grabbed her shoulder.
“Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s been about an hour now.”
“Mmmm,” She could vaguely see Roz rubbing at her face.
Without speaking, the two of them started packing up again, both taking small sips of water and sharing a section of the bittersweet food bar.
“Okay,” Fiona finally said. “What’s the plan?”
“First, we need to find the trail, or at least try.”
“Isn’t that too obvious? Won’t they know we’ll follow it back?”
“Probably, but it’s still the fastest route to the road. I think it’s worth the risk. Even in the dark, I’m pretty sure I can follow it once we’re on it.”
“And if we don’t find it?”
Roz sighed. “Then we follow the water. It would be faster if we could walk directly in the middle of the river, but we can’t this time of year. Instead, we’ll have to fight through all the vegetation and rocks along its banks. That will be much slower. That’s why I want to try the trail first, but we’ll have to walk back toward the scramble to make that happen. I don’t think we’re too far off—maybe half a mile, but it won’t be easy to pick it up.”
When Fiona didn’t respond, she felt Roz’s hand on her knee. “I’m sorry, Fiona. I know you’re scared. I’m scared, too. I wish there was another way.”
“S’okay. I understand. I guess there’s no point putting this off anymore.”
Roz turned the headlamp on long enough for them to walk back to the edge of the woods. She was still using the red lowlight, but after the complete darkness they’d been sitting it, even that seemed bright.
Despite the lack of sleep, the rest had done Fiona some good. Her senses felt sharper, and though she was almost groaning with fatigue and from her various pains, she had regained most of her coordination. Now, without a backpack, she felt strangely light, almost buoyant. Roz was moving with her usual grace, making hardly any sound as they traversed the thick undergrowth. They hit the edge of the woods suddenly, and Fiona was surprised to recognize that it was incredibly bright out here. The moon had risen much farther than before, and when Roz turned off their headlamp, it was still light enough to see.
“Keep close to the trees,” Roz said. “We’re going to walk along the edge of them until I see the trail. If you hear anything, get down and wait for my signal. We might have to get back in the woods if they spot us.”
Because of the greater light, it was difficult to walk close enough to the tree line to stay relatively hidden. Walking even a couple of feet away, both were completely exposed to anyone watching. Roz led them a few feet into the woods to try to keep them under cover, but the route was such slow going they abandoned the idea almost at once. Once back in the clearing, Roz sped up a little, and Fiona had to hustle to keep up. For the last leg, they were both visible and none too quiet. Fiona clenched with anxiety, fearing the shot that was sure to come.
“Here it is,” Roz finally said, stopping in front of her.
Fiona peered into the woods, finally spotting the telltale signs of the trail. The woods here parted somewhat naturally, and the earth was turned up a little. It made the path clear, obvious.
“How much farther is it to the road?” Fiona asked.
“A little less than twenty miles—eighteen, I think. It’ll be harder in the dark, but we’ll be going downhill most of the way. I think we can make it by morning.”
Fiona’s stomach gave a lurch of excitement. Even in her current state of exhaustion, eighteen miles sounded doable. Eighteen miles, and this would all be over. Some of this realization must have shown in her face, as Roz smiled broadly before giving her a quick hug.
“We can do this, Fiona.”
“I know we can.”
They started down the trail, each step moving them closer to something Fiona had almost given up on. Roz had to risk the headlamp more often than either of them was comfortable with, but just for a quick flash of light to get her bearings. In the light, even Fiona could see the trail. Had this whole experience somehow made her better at reading the signs? Two days ago, she’d felt like she was wandering, lost, except for her companions leading the way. Now, she believed that she could have done this on her own.
Roz suddenly stopped in front of her, and Fiona almost ran into her back. She caught herself inches shy of the backpack and waited, wondering why Roz didn’t turn on the light.
“What—”
“Shhh!” Roz hissed.
Fiona heard it then. The sound that had haunted them for days now, the sound that represented everything that had gone wrong from the very beginning.
Somewhere from the woods came the sound of chopping wood.