part0030

They walked holding hands on and off most of the late morning and early afternoon. Roz let go only when they had to, for a narrow passage between trees or a steep downward incline. They were still losing elevation at a rapid clip, but she knew the last couple of miles would be relatively flat. She kept waiting for the ground to even out, to act as a sign for the last leg. Instead, they continued to hit hills, small and long, going farther and farther down the mountain. Her knees were throbbing now, her right one occasionally trying to lock in place, and she forced herself not to limp. On a particularly steep incline, she bit her lip to stop from calling out, a single tear escaping the corner of her eye. She wiped at it, furious with herself. Her friends were injured, in actual danger, and here she was, worried about her joints. She had to keep going.

Roz paused at the bottom of the hill, watching the rest of her progress down. After keeping up all morning, Fiona was starting to fall behind again, farther and farther with each hill. She made it to the bottom and bent her knee a couple of times to stretch it, rubbing it with a dirty hand.

“Knees giving you problems?” Roz asked.

She tilted a hand back and forth a couple of times and tried to smile. “Yes and no. I’m fine on the flat parts. It’s just these damn hills. But I’ll be okay.”

Roz stared at her evenly and, Fiona could see, suspiciously.

“All right,” Roz said, “but let me show you a stretch.”

She demonstrated by crossing one foot over the other. She stretched her body to the other side, re-crossed her feet the other way, and bent to the other side. Fiona mimicked her, feeling the strain run through her knees on either side. It hurt, but it stretched the correct part of her knee. She didn’t think it would do much good right now, but she was still grateful for the momentary pause. She did each side a couple more times and smiled.

“Thanks. That’s a little better. Let’s keep going.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. The only thing that would help right now is sitting for the rest of my life and staring at the TV.”

Roz grinned. “Not going on any more backpacking trips this summer?”

Fiona laughed. “No. Not any time soon.”

They linked hands again. Fiona couldn’t help but look at their entwined, dirty fingers. Both had blood under their fingernails, dirt encrusted directly in their skin. She’d been a fastidious neat freak since she was a kid and couldn’t think of a single time she’d been half as filthy. Her hair and face were just as bad, and she could see, despite the dark material, that her shirt was likewise grimy, but she didn’t really care. Maybe holding hands with a gorgeous woman who also didn’t seem to care helped, or maybe, for once in her life, her perspective was in the right place. It didn’t matter how grody she was when she found help, only that she did.

“Do you think Jill will be okay?”

Fiona regretted asking this question the moment it was out of her mouth. They hadn’t said anything about her since they left her, almost as if they’d agreed not to, as if talking about her would make Fiona go back.

Roz threw her a quick smile. “Are you kidding me? If anyone’s stubborn enough to live through this, it’s Jill. And anyway, she’s a survivor. She’s tough and mean as hell.”

Fiona grinned, flushing with relief. It was true, all of it. Roz had known her only a few days, but she’d described Jill as if they’d known each other a lifetime. Tears rose in her eyes again, and she blinked a few times, trying to hide them.

Roz paused again and pulled her into a quick hug. When she let go, she put her hands on Fiona’s shoulders.

“We did the right thing. I know it was shitty. I don’t like it either. I fucking hate it, in fact, and she’s not even my friend.”

“She will be, eventually. Once all this is over. You’ll get to know her like I do. You two are really going to hit it off.”

Roz raised a single eyebrow, and Fiona laughed.

“Okay, well, maybe.”

Roz smiled and dropped her hands. “I’ll give you a maybe. But Fiona, Jill’s going to be okay. As long as we get help, we’re all going to be okay. I won’t promise you, since that would be silly with all this going on, but I can promise you this. If we make it back, Jill, Carol, and Sarah will all be okay.”

They hugged again, and this time Fiona tried to convey some of her feelings through their closeness. She ran her hands along Roz’s strong muscles and shoulder blades, the back of Roz’s shirt damp and clinging to her skin. She smelled of pine and earth and fresh air with a hint of something else—her sweat, probably, but appealing, nevertheless. Fiona had a flash of self-consciousness, remembering that she hadn’t worn deodorant in days, but Roz was holding her so closely, so warmly, she obviously didn’t care. They moved as one into a long, lingering kiss, Fiona rising slightly on the balls of her feet to meet the taller woman’s lips. She dropped down again when Roz released her, her stomach fluttering.

“Jill would say we’re being moony,” Roz said, voice thick.

Fiona grinned at her. “And she’d be right.”

“Let’s get moving again. We can be as moony as we like once we’re in our hotel room tonight.”

“I thought you said all we’d do is sleep.”

Roz barked a single laugh. “Yeah, right.”

They began their zigzag path again, hands clasped, moving at a clip just short of a trot. Fiona occasionally had to jog a few steps to keep up with Roz’s longer legs, but for the most part, their pace was just at the top of her peak walking speed. Long, flat stretches would give her hope, only for them to start, once again, on a steep descent. It was much too early in the day to expect that they would be nearing the highway, but she couldn’t help it. Every time they walked for more than ten or twenty minutes without a hill, her heart would start to speed up again, only for her hopes to fade with the next decline.

Time ran like a sieve. She knew it was passing as the day heated and the sun rose high in the sky. They’d crossed the river an hour or so before noon, and at least two hours had passed since they left Jill. To occupy the time and keep her mind off her fears, she occasionally tried to count the minutes away, but something always distracted her, and she lost track of where she’d been.

She and Roz were moving too quickly for much small talk, though one or the other would occasionally remark on the woods around them, planning their next path forward around some obstacle. Still, even if they’d been walking slower, Fiona didn’t think they would talk much. Too much was happening, and discussion would only lead them back to the things she didn’t want to think about—her friends, the murderous people from the woods, Jill, the lost men and horses, hot food, showers—all of it was there, threatening to overwhelm her, and Roz had to feel the same way. Better to focus on the now, the only thing they had any control over. She had to keep pretending. If they made it back to safety, everything would be all right again.

They were trying to be careful with the water, but on their next quick break, she heard air pockets in Roz’s sip.

“Damn,” Roz said, dropping the mouth valve.

“That’s it? That’s all we had?”

Roz nodded, her eyes downcast and worried. It was remarkably hot now. Fiona couldn’t remember a time she’d been so warm this high in the mountains. She could only imagine how rough it was in town. If she’d been home, she would be sitting under her swamp cooler, trying not to move, sipping a beer maybe, watching her dog play outside in the paddling pool. The image was so clear in her mind she could almost taste the hops and smell wet dog.

“We have a long way to go,” Roz said. “Probably at least another two or three hours.”

“We’ve seen some standing water a few times,” Fiona suggested. “Maybe we’ll run into more.”

Neither of them mentioned the obvious. The water they’d seen here in this part of the woods wasn’t drinkable. They’d seen perhaps three or four ponds, all muddy and skimmed with scum and algae.

Roz gestured at the pack. “I was going to suggest we eat something, but it will just make us thirstier. Let’s skip it and keep going.”

Their new situation seemed to drain the remaining enthusiasm from the day. Roz was still walking quickly, setting a hard but manageable pace, but she seemed dejected, downcast next to her, shoulders slightly stooped and her eyes down and introspective. Not having any water was a big problem, but it seemed to have struck Roz hard, almost as if it had broken her. She was still moving forward, still bringing them closer and closer to home, but her heart didn’t seem to be in it anymore. As if she knew, suddenly, that this was a lost cause.

Fiona shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. She was projecting. Roz might just be hot, like she was, and struggling to stay hopeful in the blistering heat.

“I’m surprised we haven’t had any rain this whole time,” Fiona said.

Roz glanced at her and nodded. “It’s definitely weird. This is the only time of year you can actually expect rain up here.”

They both looked upward at the crystalline, cloudless sky. The trees were dense and thick enough in most places to give them shade, but it was still almost blindingly bright out. A drip of sweat ran down Fiona’s forehead, and she blinked it painfully out of her eyes.

“Do you think—”

Roz grabbed her injured arm, yanking her backward, and Fiona let out of little yelp of pain and fright. Roz clutched her, fingers dug into her skin, her face a pallid white.

“What the—”

“Shhhh!” Roz said, and pointed.

Fiona followed the direction of her finger, and her blood froze in her veins. There, not fifty feet away, were three trees with geometric patterns cut into them. They stood in a ring together, no different from any other cluster of trees she could see except for the telltale markings. The trees were directly in front of them, exactly where they were now headed.

“I don’t understand,” Roz said, shaking her head. “I’ve been leading us around, trying to avoid one specific direction for too long. How could this happen? I figured we would lose a mile or two if we wandered a little but still make it to the road, and it would be safer. How could they know where we’d end up? How could they anticipate our next move? There’s no path, no plan for them to follow and get ahead of us. How did they do it? What does it mean?”

Fiona could hear the panic in her voice, and she forced Roz’s fingers off her arm, squaring herself in front of her. Roz was still talking, occasionally pausing to rub her mouth before starting again, repeating herself now and clearly trying to figure them out. Roz peered around wildly, her head jerking every few seconds to a new direction. She hadn’t noticed Fiona watching her.

Fiona took a deep breath and grabbed Roz’s hand, crushing her fingers to get her attention.

“Roz, look at me.”

Roz shook her head, eyes still almost rolling.

“Damn it, look at me!” she shouted.

Roz flinched, and Fiona was relieved to see her face gain a little color, whether from surprise or anger, she didn’t care. Her eyes were steadying again, calmer.

“Okay,” Fiona said, “we assumed all morning that they were watching us. Then, when we crossed the river, we also decided a few of them were probably on this side, or the group that shot at us would have followed.”

Roz nodded eagerly.

Fiona lifted her shoulders. “So how is this any different? How is this new? These bastards have been one step ahead of us all along, and they still are.”

“Yes, but the whole point of crossing over here was to give them the slip.”

Fiona nodded. “Yep. And it didn’t work. Who cares? We’re still here, right? We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

Roz’s brows lowered with apparent confusion. “But how does that help us?”

Fiona smiled. “Except for being alive, it doesn’t help at all. But we can refuse to let them rattle us, startle us. That’s what they want. They want us to panic and make poor choices. I, for one, won’t let them do it anymore. I say we keep going and pretend we don’t see those trees. Who knows—maybe it’s just one guy over here? Or maybe there’s a few of them, but they’re too busy with these damn trees to do anything else. Otherwise, why aren’t they chasing us?”

Roz opened her mouth as if ready to argue, but it snapped shut soon after. She kept her eyes on the ground, clearly reflecting on what Fiona had said, but Fiona knew where she’d end up. She didn’t know why she was so calm about all this, but she wasn’t scared anymore. She’d hit the end of her terror, apparently, and rather than shut down and give up, she’d come out the other side, almost unafraid. She refused to let them control her emotions. After all, it was just a few trees, for God’s sake. If those weirdos were nearby, close enough to actually see them, they’d be shooting at them.

Roz took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and then let it out in a long, shaky exhale. She did it again, steadier this time, and then once more. When she opened her eyes, she almost seemed like herself again, eyes steely, jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry, Fiona. I lost it there for a minute.”

“It’s okay. We’ve all been there at least once the last few days.”

Roz shook her head, her expression dark, and Fiona suspected she was angry with herself.

Roz met her eyes. “It’s not just the trees. Before we saw them, I’d almost given up already. I was thinking about how we don’t have any water, worried we wouldn’t make it even after all that’s happened the last few days. But I wanted to be strong for you. I see now that I was fooling myself. You can take it. You can take anything.”

Fiona almost laughed. “Me? I’m a little ’fraidy cat. You must mean someone else.”

Roz shook her head. “No. Ever since we left camp yesterday—and before, really—you’ve shown me your true self, Fiona. With your friends, you showed me true courage, standing up for Jill when I wanted to club her one, helping Carol in any way you could, and basically being the only one of them to have any good ideas.”

“That was all you, though—”

Roz grabbed her hand. “It wasn’t. It was you. I might have gone through with a few things on my own, but you convinced me to try. You’re the real hero here, Fiona. Not me. What’s incredible to me is that you can’t see it in yourself.”

Fiona flushed with warmth. Roz was just being nice, all of what she’d said flattery of the highest kind, but she couldn’t help the pride rising in her chest. She had made it this far, after all. Just last night, she’d thought they’d be dead by now.

They didn’t say anything else, both turning back toward the marked trees and walking toward them, hands linked. They passed the trees without incident, Fiona barely glancing at them again. What she’d told Roz was true. The only thing they could control was how they reacted to things, as much as possible, anyway, and fear, while useful, could also be debilitating. She could be afraid and in control. She’d learned that about herself, at any rate, and it had only taken a life-and-death situation.

She heard screeching metal and a loud SNAP before Roz collapsed next to her, all at once and in a heap. Her hand was yanked from Fiona’s, almost dragging her down, and Fiona reeled backward, arms spinning to catch her balance. When she finally made herself look, she almost screamed.