CHAPTER 8

Only when the last of the fog finally burned away did Jimmy and Eugene realize how vast the valley was. It sprawled between the mountains, a low forest pockmarked with rough clearings, and every time the two of them reached a break in the woods, they could see that the next peak was no closer.

His inability to find the right direction nagged at Jimmy, though he tried not to show Eugene how worried he was. The road had simply vanished. Given how far they had descended, he had assumed that they would reach the lost road in the valley, or at least find a village, but he saw no sign of habitation—no tracks, no trails, and no sign of the highway.

They walked in silence, wading through the high grass, keeping beneath the canopies of the lush trees as the sun climbed. The thought of food grew more painful as the afternoon wore on, and their progress was slow. Jimmy was exhausted, but Eugene seemed to keep his ears cocked, and occasionally looked over his shoulder toward the border, as if expecting their pursuers to reconsider and return.

As the sun touched the mountains, they finally broke into a clearing and froze.

“Water!” Eugene cried, dropping Jimmy’s backpack in his haste to run to the stream. “Oh my God, it’s water!” He knelt on the bank and began scooping handfuls into his mouth, dribbling it down his shirt as he slurped it from his palms.

Jimmy joined him a moment later, having pulled a small vial from his bag. “I’ve got some purification tablets,” he offered, holding the vial in front of Eugene’s eyes. “I mean, we don’t know what’s been in here…”

He paused long enough to gasp, “Screw it,” then resumed gulping the creek water down his parched throat.

Jimmy looked at the vial, then shrugged, stuck it in his back pocket, and lifted the first handful to his mouth. The stream ran cold and clear, and the drink was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

They camped where they stopped, thirst slaked and stomachs tight. Eugene lay by the stream, dangling one hand into the running water as he stared up at the trees. Beside him, Jimmy sat beneath an ancient olive tree and studied his maps by flashlight.

Eventually, Eugene rolled over enough to see what he was doing. “Still lost?”

“No,” Jimmy mumbled. “Well, yes, but no.”

With a sigh, Eugene pushed himself to his knees and crawled through the grass to Jimmy’s makeshift office. “Want to stop speaking in riddles?”

“I’m not. Here, have a look.” He opened his computer and pushed it into Eugene’s lap. “This thing has GPS capability,” he explained, opening a mapping program. “See? We’re here.”

Eugene considered the blinking blue diamond on the screen. “Yeah?”

“Notice anything odd?”

“Should I?”

Jimmy tapped the screen. “According to this, we’re still on the mountain. This valley doesn’t exist—the peak’s more of a plateau.”

“Okay,” Eugene shrugged, “so maybe it’s wrong.”

“It’s not just the software,” he said, closing the computer and handing Eugene the paper map. “Same thing here, too. See? It’s all one block. And the book,” he added, opening it to the back and dropping it on top of the map. “No one mentions this valley. No one.”

“Well,” said Eugene, slowly going to his feet, “I wouldn’t worry. We’re smack in the middle of nothing, and I wouldn’t worry too much about a bad map. Not like anyone gets out here,” he continued, lumbering toward the stream. “You know, maybe it’s just not big enough.” When he reached the bank, he unzipped his pants and asked, “How about the creek?”

Jimmy glanced away as Eugene relieved himself into their creek. “Don’t worry, it’ll wash away.”

Jimmy thought better of making a scene. “Yeah, that one’s listed as the Yellow River.”

“Eugene’s Yellow River,” he admonished, finishing his business, and laughed.

“Right, right—Eugene’s Piss Creek. And now you’ll be remembered forever,” Jimmy added, joining Eugene’s laughter. “Halfway to heaven, man. Halfway there.”

“All I can ask,” said Eugene, wiping his hands on his pants. “They already know me in the other place. Stay there,” he said, picking up Jimmy’s flashlight and turning toward the woods, “I’ll get the lumber if you can get the fire started.”

When he returned, Eugene’s arms were laden with branches and the barrel of the flashlight was clenched between his teeth. He dropped his load into the grass beside the patch of dirt Jimmy had cleared, then spat out the light and held it in place as Jimmy coaxed the fire to life. As the branches began to catch, Eugene dropped by the fire. “So, the water’s great, but it’s not going to keep us going forever.”

Jimmy nodded, poking at the fire. “I know. But someone will find us now—this fire should be visible, they’ll be able to see it. Or smell it, at least. We’re burning something fragrant,” he added, sniffing deeply. “Juniper, maybe. I’m not sure.” He sat back on his heels and looked up at Eugene. “Honestly, I’m not sure about anything in this valley.”

“Think those guys know something we don’t?”

“At least they didn’t follow us,” said Jimmy, as much to reassure Eugene as to comfort himself. “Anyway, if they wouldn’t come down here by day, I seriously doubt they’d wander around in here at night. We’re safe from them.”

“Hyenas might,” Eugene muttered, leaning his back against the olive tree.

“You hear any hyenas?” Jimmy cocked his head toward the woods and shrugged. “Nothing. There’s nothing out there. Anyway,” he added, curling up beside the fire, “if there are any animals out there, the flames should keep them away.”

Eugene stared into the fire, watching the embers glow, and muttered, “Man, it’s not the animals I’m worried about.”

Three days of hiking had taken their toll on both the weakened boy and his over-exerted companion. Safe in the embers’ glow, Jimmy and Eugene slept deeply, stretched out on opposite sides of the fire.

Neither noticed the eyes peering out at them from the ring of trees, nor realized that the moon turned the river into a thin ribbon of silver mirror that illuminated their campsite.

Two of the tall, slender shadows slinked into the clearing, moving swiftly but so silently that no twigs cracked to betray their presence. They bent over the sleepers, studying their faces in the glow of fire and water, then stood and pointed to the trees with the tips of their long spears.

The others retreated into the forest, and their companions joined them a moment later, melting into the trees as if they had been no more than a dream on the cusp of waking, phantoms from the borderland between night and day.