by Rachel Lacey
Then silence.
She and Nate lay there for several long minutes, barely breathing, while her heart beat frantically against her ribs. Her skin prickled like she’d been plugged into a live wire. Where was Maya? Had she chased the other animal away? Was she hurt?
“I’m so scared,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
Nate’s arms tightened around her.
Outside their shelter, the night was still and silent. The darkness seemed to press in on her like someone had wrapped a heavy blanket around her face.
“I think whatever it was is gone,” Nate said finally.
“Maya…”
“I don’t know,” he said softly.
“Should we—”
“We’re going to stay right where we are, Isa. We can’t do a bit of good for Maya if we’re stumbling around out there in the dark with nothing but a pocket knife.”
She knew he was right, but it was killing her to think of Maya out there somewhere.
“We should stay quiet, just in case,” Nate said.
“Okay,” she whispered.
He positioned her against him, facing the rock, leaving his own back exposed.
Protecting her.
She lay awake for the rest of the night, intensely aware of just how vulnerable they were to the big, bad world outside. The dangers of the forest had seemed somehow surreal just hours ago as she and Nate had fooled around here in the shelter, lamenting not having a condom.
How naïve they’d been.
Now she lay in his arms, shivering from the cold and the clammy fingers of fear that still gripped her, half expecting at any moment to be attacked by some unseen creature. Mountain lions probably didn’t make a sound before they pounced.
She trembled until even her bones ached.
Somewhere before dawn she must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, muted sunlight was filtering in through the gaping hole in the side of their shelter where Maya had exited during the night. Nate crawled out, knife in hand.
“All clear,” he called.
She slipped out after him. At first glance, nothing appeared amiss. No blood. No fur. No sign of a struggle.
“I think it was after our food,” he said, lifting his duffel bag, which had plainly been pawed at.
“What do you think…?”
“Black bear,” he answered, pointing to a large paw print nearby.
Isa nodded, feeling as if the bear had just stomped on her stomach. A bear had been inches from her head last night…and Maya…
“We didn’t hear any signs of a struggle,” Nate said, obviously following her line of thought. “On the contrary, it sounded to me like Maya ran the bear off.”
“Then why didn’t she come back?”
“Can’t answer that.” Nate met her gaze, his brown eyes steady and sincere. “You told me she liked to run off a lot before. Could be she just decided to keep on running.”
“Or she’s hurt.” Or worse…
Nate walked over and took her hands in his. “We have every reason to believe she can take care of herself, okay?”
She nodded.
“I had left our bags out here so that bears wouldn’t come into our shelter if they wanted our granola bars. I’ll put them farther away tonight.”
“I’m ready to go home,” she whispered, burying her face against Nate’s muscular chest. She couldn’t face the thought of another day lost in the woods or another night in a makeshift shelter.
“I know, sweetheart.” He wrapped her in his warm embrace and held her tight. “Maybe we’ll be in our own beds tonight.”
Maybe, but he didn’t sound very optimistic, and neither was she.
“And if we want that to happen, we’d better get a move on.” He lifted her head and gave her a quick kiss.
“Okay.” Reluctantly, she slid out of his arms.
They gathered their belongings and made their way back to the stream. Isa was looking for any sign of Maya, but she didn’t see a single hair from the dog’s fluffy coat.
“Maya?” she called. “Maya! Come here, girl.”
Nate joined her, calling for Maya as they walked. Isa strained her ears for any sound in response, but the forest around them remained silent. Once they reached the stream, she and Nate both turned to look at the sky.
The smoke was closer. Darker. Its scent hung heavy in the air.
“Shit,” Nate said.
The mood was subdued as they ate their breakfast of granola bars and sliced cattail root. They needed to cover as much ground today as possible. Never mind that she was already exhausted, mentally and physically. Her whole body ached from yesterday’s tumble. And two days of nothing but granola bars and cattails was taking its toll.
Nate seemed to be feeling the same. Neither of them spoke much while they ate. She went around a bend in the creek for some privacy before stripping down in the chilly morning air. She washed herself off in the cold water and changed into her spare shirt, jeans, and her only remaining pair of panties. She could only hope they weren’t out here long enough for her to regret sacrificing the pink pair in her shenanigans with Nate last night.
Despite her somber mood, she smiled at the memory.
Once she was dressed, she packed up her things and went after Nate. He’d changed too, now wearing a green long-sleeved shirt with his jeans. His face was coated in two days of scruff, which only served to make him look even sexier.
“Want me to rewrap that for you?” He took the bandage she held in her good hand.
“Please.”
“It doesn’t look too bad today. How does it feel?” he asked as he began to wrap her wrist.
“It’s sore, but I’ll live.”
“Damn right, you will.” He leaned in to give her another quick kiss. “Now what do you say we get out of here?”
She nodded, falling into step beside him as they set out alongside the stream. Smoke hung in the air like a cloud, stinging her eyes and burning her lungs. “Do you think Maya’s okay?”
“I do.” He took her hand in his. “If the bear attacked her, we would have heard it. But I don’t know if we’ll see her again or what will happen to her out there in the woods without us.”
Out of nowhere, tears rose in her eyes. “I don’t want to lose her.”
Nate squeezed her hand. “She seems pretty good at looking after herself, and there’s always a chance she’ll find her way back to us.”
They walked on for a while in silence, broken periodically as she called for Maya. An unspoken urgency seemed to be driving them today. The smoke was so thick…she kept glancing over her shoulder, each time expecting to see flames chasing after them.
“I really miss my cell phone,” she said when they’d paused for a drink sometime later. All their electronics had been ruined in their swim out of the lake. It was seriously disorienting not to know what time it was. She’d boarded Nate’s plane on Sunday, which meant today was Tuesday, but beyond that, she had no clue. It felt like they’d been walking for hours, but they’d risen early. It might only be nine o’clock for all she knew.
Nate glanced up at the gray sky above. “Hard to see the sun today to judge time.”
They set out again, but neither of them was moving as fast now as they had been that morning. Isa ached from her scalp to her toes. Between the bruise she’d gotten in the crash, the bumps and scrapes she’d gotten yesterday when she fell, two nights sleeping on the cold, hard ground, and a general lack of nutrition, she felt like a hunchbacked old person as she shuffled along.
“So you work in marketing,” Nate said, again taking her hand as they walked. “What do you do for fun?”
“I go out with my friends a lot. We go dancing every Thursday.” What if she wasn’t home by Thursday? What if she didn’t make it home? “I volunteer at the animal shelter on Tuesdays and Saturdays. I usually stop by my parents’ house for dinner on Saturday after I leave. My mom cooks a big meal, and we all just show up.”
&nb
sp; A wake of homesickness swept over her so suddenly that it seemed to suck all the air out of her lungs. She paused, pressing a hand to her chest, struggling for breath.
“You’ll be home by Saturday,” Nate said quietly.
“But what if I’m not?” She gasped for air. The smoke was all around them. If not for the stream, she wouldn’t have even known which way they were walking. “Nate, what will we do if the fire catches up to us?”
He drew her in against his chest and held her tight. “Let’s not think about it unless we have to, okay?”
“There’s no way I’m going to burn to death in that fire,” she said, her fists clenching into his shirt.
“Damn straight.” He tipped her face up so that she met his eyes. “We didn’t survive a plane crash, a frigid swim in a lake, and a bear to die in a forest fire. Now let’s keep walking until we find a way out of here.”
Nate gripped Isa’s hand in his as they walked along the edge of the stream, coughing from the smoke. She was scared. They both were. The truth was, he didn’t know how long they could continue to outrun the fire, but he’d never been one to dwell on the worst-case scenario.
They’d cross that proverbial bridge when they got to it.
In the meantime, they needed to make it through today and cover as much ground as possible. He only hoped they weren’t walking toward the blaze. At this point, it was hard to tell which direction the smoke was coming from, but until they knew otherwise, he figured their best bet was to keep walking downstream.
“Your turn.” She looked up at him. The bruise on her forehead stood out in stark contrast to the pallor of her face. “What do you do for fun?”
“I fly,” he answered without thinking.
“I already knew that,” she said, a faint smile returning to her lips. “What else?”
Good question. “Haven’t had time for much else lately.”
“Hmm,” Isa said, giving him a look. “What about your friends and family?”
“My parents are in Fresno. It’s about a three-hour drive, an hour or so by plane.”
“How often do you see them?” she asked as they left the edge of the water to pick their way around a large outcropping of rocks.
“Once a month or so.” Sometimes less often. He’d been awfully caught up in work lately, maybe too much so. “My mom has MS. She’s in a wheelchair and doesn’t get out much.”
“Oh, Nate.” Isa touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“She’s doing well, all things considered. I try to fly down and visit when I can.” He blew out a breath. “I should go more often.”
“I’m sure you do your best. And friends?” she asked.
“There are a few guys I meet up with for drinks every now and then.”
“So you work sixty to eighty hours a week, fly your plane for fun, and only occasionally see your friends and family. It sounds awfully lonely.”
He hadn’t felt lonely before. Hell, he’d been too busy to feel lonely. But imagining Isa out dancing with her friends or joining her family for dinner every weekend left a hollow feeling in his chest. When had he turned into such a workaholic? “Something tells me you’re never lonely.”
“Heck no,” she said. “I have friends or family stopping by my apartment almost every night. And I have two cats—Frankie and Lulu.”
“They okay without you?” he asked.
She nodded, but the light in her eyes dimmed. “Pretty much everyone in my family has keys to my apartment, so I’m sure they’ve been looking after them for me. They must be so worried.”
It was easy to get caught up in their reality here in the wilderness and forget the people at home wondering where they were or if they were alive. “I’m sure they are.”
“My older sister, Valentina, is getting married next spring.”
“You’ll be there,” Nate told her.
Isa’s chin lifted. “Yes, I will.”
They lapsed back into silence. There had been a lot less conversation between them today, mostly because they were just so damn tired. Periodically, they called for Maya, although he was starting to doubt the dog was coming back. This was their second full day of hiking on very little food—or sleep—and already his energy levels were ebbing. He was beat but knew it couldn’t be much past noon, and since they had nothing for lunch and with the fire on their heels, they just kept moving as quickly as their bodies would allow them.
Hunger had become a constant ache in his gut.
They sky above grew darker, heavier, more ominous. He gripped Isa’s uninjured hand, urging her on. She lengthened her stride, keeping up with him without complaint. They both understood the consequences for resting now.
Something splashed onto his forearm, and he looked up in surprise. “Was that a raindrop?”
Her brows knitted. “What?”
Another fat drop landed on his arm. “It’s raining.”
“Really?” Isa held her hand out. “Yeah, it is.”
“This could be good news.”
“I don’t think rain can put out a forest fire, Nate.”
“I don’t either, but it might slow it down and give us a little more time to get out of here.”
“Yeah, I like the sound of that.”
Somewhere over the course of the morning, gray storm clouds had formed overhead, and he hadn’t been able to distinguish them from the smoke already smudging out the sun. The initial drops soon turned into a downpour, and he and Isa paused to put on their jackets. Hers was a thin purple windbreaker that she wore with the hood cinched tightly around her face. His was a fleece pullover—no hood—that was soon soaked through.
He swiped rain out of his eyes. “Surely this is dampening the fire.”
“It has to be.” She peered at him through wet lashes. “I can’t smell the smoke anymore.”
“Me either.” They walked on, hampered now by wet, slippery rocks and leaves.
“Okay, this really sucks,” Isa said after a while.
By now, he was soaked to the bone, and the constant splatter of water against his face was slowly driving him mad. The rain had started out as a blessing, but right now it felt like another form of torture. “Sure does.”
“Even if it lets up soon, we’re going to be soaked for the rest of the day,” Isa said, her teeth chattering.
“Could make shelter tonight more difficult too.”
“God, I hadn’t thought of that.” She bit her lip. “Lying in wet pine straw doesn’t sound fun at all.”
“Maybe we’ll get rescued before nightfall.”
“Maybe.” But she didn’t sound any more optimistic about that than he felt.
“We should try to keep an eye out for food sources anyway,” she said quietly.
“That’s a definite. So, Miss Armchair Survivalist, what else should we be looking for?” he asked, trying to keep a conversation going to distract them from their discomforts.
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot, trying to remember what I’ve seen Les eat on the show. He finds a lot of edible plants, but he also emphasizes that if you’re not sure what it is, it’s best not to eat anything. Clover and dandelions are definitely good, but I haven’t seen any of those. We might get lucky and find more cattails. I also remember that pine nuts are edible, and there are a ton of pine trees out here, but I don’t know exactly where the pine nuts are.”
“Are they inside pine cones?” he asked.
“I think so. We could gather some tonight and see if we find any nuts in them.”
“Okay, that sounds like a plan. What else?” Because they only had four granola bars left, and he was starting to worry that rescue was nowhere near.
She glanced at the water to their left. “Critters in the stream, or just critters in general. Bugs, grubs, fish if we’re really lucky.”
“Reconsidering that ‘no raw fish’ stance now, are we?” he asked with a smile.
“It’s starting to sound more and more like sushi with each passing day.”
7
Isa hugged her windbreaker more tightly around her. Was Maya out there somewhere in this rain? Today had felt so much lonelier without her.
“It’s getting late. Maybe we ought to try to do some foraging before it gets any darker,” Nate commented beside her.
She cringed internally. Despite what she’d told him earlier, she had no desire to eat slugs, grubs, or raw, slimy fish fresh from the stream. But finding food was what she was best at out here, so she was going to do her damnedest to find them something for supper. “Let’s do it.”
“I’m going to turn over a few rocks and see what pops up.” He stepped into the stream, fully clothed. “Not like I can get any more wet, right?”
“Right,” she said with a laugh. She was soaked to the bone. Her sneakers squished with each step she took, and her wet jeans were heavy, cold, and starting to chafe her legs. “Okay, you take the stream, and I’ll poke around here on shore.”
She bent and began looking under rocks near the stream. The rain had faded to a drizzle now, but the damage had already been done. There was no way for her or Nate to dry off now and nowhere to build a dry shelter for the night. Her fingers were stiff from the cold, and the rocks were slippery as hell. She turned over as many as she could, finding nothing of interest.
Changing tactics, she wandered inland, lifting fallen branches and bits of tree bark. She lifted a big wedge of bark, and a shiny, brown salamander looked up at her. “Oh!”
“Find something?” Nate called.
“A little salamander, but I don’t think I could eat him.” He was too cute, and also too slimy… Her stomach turned at the thought of putting him in her mouth.
“He’d be more appetizing if we could make a fire and roast him first,” Nate said.
“Ugh.” She replaced the piece of bark, officially pardoning the salamander. A pine cone nearby caught her attention. Pine nuts. Now there was something that actually sounded appetizing.
A half hour or so later, she’d managed to gather three squirmy grubs and a handful of pine nuts—which were pretty easy to harvest once she’d figured out how to do it, although it would be much easier if the pine cones weren’t wet.