It was dusk, and Eric was going on hour two of his effort to get a fire started. She sat down on the sand next to him. “You ever do this before?”
He looked up, continuing to rub the sticks together without stopping. “Nope.”
“Why don’t you take a break? Let me have a try?”
He stopped and looked at her. At first, he appeared intent on continuing his quest; then, seeing that his palms were starting to look red and worn, he conceded. “Sure, why not?”
Abby picked up one of the sticks to examine it. It was very warm, but not hot. It wasn’t about to catch fire anytime soon.
She looked over the rest of the wood. There were larger pieces and some smaller sticks for kindling. She had never started a fire before but was struck by a sudden flash, like she was remembering having seen someone do this. She knew what to do.
Going to the edge of the trees, she picked up some dried leaves and brought them back to the woodpile. She sat cross-legged in front of the wood and tore up the dried leaves into small chunks until she had a nice, fist-sized pile. Next, she made a teepee over the leaves with some smaller sticks, and then sat there, looking at her handiwork.
Eric had been leaning against the rock wall under the ledge, watching her, hard at work. “What now?”
She didn’t look up. She just stared and concentrated. Her hand unconsciously reached down and slid her knife from its sheath. She sat, looking at the knife, then looking at her pile of leaves and sticks, then back at the knife. She thought she was having déjà vu—except, she was positive she had not done this before.
She examined the knife. The chrome cap at the back of the knife handle caught her eye. She held it firm with her right hand. With her left hand wrapped around the grip of the knife, she pulled back hard on the cap, gave it a slight, counter-clockwise twist, and the back of the knife slid out with a pop. In her right hand, she held the cap, and a black rod that fit into the knife handle. The small rod appeared to either have been made from stone or was covered in some type of stone.
Her mind snapped into focus. She held the small rod to the ground against the leaves. It was at an angle with the bottom of it touching the base of the leaves, and the top in her hand, a few inches off the ground. She held the back of her knife to the rod and scraped the steel down the length of it.
A shower of sparks sprung from the rod, landing on the leaves, instantly setting them on fire. She gently blew on the kindling, and within a minute, her entire structure was ablaze.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” Eric muttered from behind her.
She stood without looking away from her little fire. “Well, there you go. I got it started. Have at it!” She turned and smiled at him.
He had never started a fire like that, but he had obviously spent time around a campfire or two. He quickly stacked the wood, and within twenty minutes, they had a blazing fire. It was a little too warm to stand next to for long.
She sat back, away from the fire, to examine her knife. The back of it was still disconnected and in her hand. It was definitely a black rock of some sort, or maybe a thin metal rod covered in rock. It also looked like there was a rubber seal around the edge of the handle backing—she figured to keep out moisture.
She peered into the now-hollow handle and saw something in there. She reached in with her finger and felt something soft. Using her fingernail, she dug out six cotton balls and gave a grunt. Built-in fire-starter. Smart.
Sitting there, she did not know where she was, what she was doing there, or how she had gotten to this moment in time. What she did know was that whoever strapped this knife to her leg was looking out for her. They also knew she was going to be there for a lot longer than a day.
3
IT DID IN FACT BECOME cold after the sun went down. They had built the fire at the mouth of the cave and slept near the opening. The sand inside the cave was packed hard, as if it had been wet at one point; however, the water had not come up that far in the few hours they had spent there. The fire at the entrance kept the temperature perfect inside. They decided they would spend the night here, and if the tide started to get close, they would move. Eric had volunteered to stay up and tend to the fire for a while, so they wouldn’t get cold.
Hours later, Abby woke up. She was cold, and her feet were a little damp. She drowsily opened her eyes and figured Eric must have fallen asleep on duty. It was black in the cave. Between being half-asleep and facing near-total darkness, she couldn’t make out a thing, other than the faint glow of the embers from the fire. She listened closely and finally heard his breathing somewhere just behind her. She smiled, knowing he was close. She also heard the crash of a wave. She thought it seemed closer than it should have. Assuming the sound was just bouncing off the walls of the cave and playing tricks on her ears, she quickly dismissed the thought.
She sat up and looked at the glowing embers, a few feet away at the entrance. She thought about getting up and putting some kindling and another log on to rebuild the fire. Before she could summon the will to move, there was a sudden hiss, and the embers disappeared. A second later, she felt the ocean water lap at her feet and run up her thighs.
She quickly turned to wake up Eric. Apparently, the water did come up this far, and they should move before it came any farther and soaked them. Calling out to Eric, she reached behind her, searching for him to shake him awake. Only, she didn’t move as fast as Mother Nature. A wave crashed on top of her from behind, throwing her forward. In an instant, she collided with him. As the wave quickly retreated, they were left on the wet sand, piled on top of each other.
After choking up a mouthful of salt water, he managed to shout, “What the hell?!” Just then, the next wave crashed into them, pushing them end over end, further into the cave.
In the dark, they made a silent agreement to get out of this death trap. The cave was not tall enough for them to stand up in, so they stayed on their hands and knees and tried to crawl out. The next wave hit, and they both caught it square in the face. Abby was thrown upward and smacked her head on the ceiling, leaving her dizzy but conscious.
Their hands found each other in the darkness, and they quickly scurried toward the moonlit opening as the water retreated. They knew there was not much time. As soon as they cleared the cave and were under the lip of the opening, they stood up to run. Just then, the next wave—the biggest one yet—crashed into them.
Their hands lost each other as Abby was thrown backward against the stone face of the cliff. Catching a sharp rock in her lower back, pain seared through her body, and she went limp like a fish. As the water retreated, she was dragged out with it, until Eric grabbed the back of her shirt and lifted her up. “Come on!” he yelled as he began sloshing through the knee-deep water toward dry ground.
Given his much taller stature, he had stayed sure on his feet. Abby took two steps and pain shot through her lower back, causing her to lose her balance, falling backwards into the water. Eric turned to see her flailing on her back, and he bounded back into the water to scoop her up. He carried her to the dry sand before gently setting her down.
On the beach, near the tree line, and well out of range of the water, he collapsed on the sand next to her. They held each other, while their labored breathing found rhythm together. As they sat there, trying to digest what had just happened, Abby was overcome by a feeling of safety and confidence. She felt at home with this stranger and confident in herself. When she was in the cave, the thought that they wouldn’t make it out had never crossed her mind, despite the difficulties they’d had. Abby knew he would pull her out. She buried her head in his shoulder, and as the adrenaline wore off, she crashed and fell asleep, soaking wet but happy.
* * *
“I need water,” Abby said from the comfort of the sand, her head still lying against his shoulder. It was morning, the sun was up, and it had been nearly twenty-four hours since she’d last had anything to drink. The piercing headache that radiated from the back of her skull to her forehead could have
been the result of dehydration or her collision with the ceiling of the cave last night. Either way, she intended to rule out one of the possibilities.
Eric stood to stretch. “That makes two of us.”
She looked over at what had been their shelter, where she had laid out the large leaves to collect the morning dew. They were gone with the tide, like everything else that had been in there. Suddenly, she was gripped by panic and frantically sat up and grabbed at her right thigh. The knife was still there. She slid it from its sheath to find that aside from being damp, it was fine. She popped open the back and was happy to find that the rubber seal had done its job well and kept the flint and the cotton fire-starter dry.
Sliding the knife back into the sheath and locking the safety latch, she announced, “Well, it’s obvious we’re not getting anywhere, sitting on this beach.”
Eric nodded his head. “Agreed. I say, we hike into the trees. A couple hours in yesterday, I saw a huge clearing, and a pretty big hill on the other side.”
“Good thinking. If nothing else, we can climb that and have a look around.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
“Maybe even figure out where we are. If we can spot a road from up there, we’ll be in good shape to find our way back.”
He looked at her, confused. “Back to where?”
She laughed. “Anywhere but here.”
They spent the next several hours making their way through the trees and looking for water. They found some dewy leaves here and there, from which they were able to get a few drops. However, they never saw anything substantial, and nothing that was going to satisfy their thirst.
“What’s your story, anyway?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Your story. I mean, you seem like you can take care of yourself. You’ve got this knife strapped to your thigh. You’re in great shape. You almost seem like you belong out here.”
Abby thought about that as they walked across the clearing toward the hill in the distance. He did have a point. She may have been lost, but she still felt as though she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
“Well, I guess I’m not entirely sure what my story is. I thought I was at the end of a fun summer after graduation. I thought I was going to start seriously job-hunting. Somehow, I found myself lost out here with some random guy.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I have no idea.”
He chuckled. “Well, however it turns out, it’s been... ‘fun’ isn’t the right word, but if I was going to wind up in whatever this is, you seem like a good person to be in it with. I’m glad to have met you.” He looked ahead at the fairly steep side of the hill they were about to climb.
“Straight up?” she asked.
“That’s the plan.”
The path narrowed as they climbed closer to the top—though every time she thought they were about to reach the top, the next crest brought more hills with it.
They came to a rock face about ten yards wide and half as tall. On each side of their path was a small incline followed by a sharp drop-off. Eric carefully stepped toward the drop-off and looked down, letting out a long whistle. A fall from this height would be certain death. Directly in front of them, the path abruptly ended at a wall of worn-out, gray rock that was anything but smooth. Covered with cracks both large and small, there were several young trees growing out of it horizontally.
Eric looked around, visibly annoyed. “Well, that’s just...”
She held her finger over her lips. “Do you hear that?”
He listened and heard nothing.
She walked up to the rock wall and closed her eyes to concentrate. She moved to the left side and smiled, motioning him closer. “Listen.”
This time, he heard it and smiled. They could hear the faint trickle of water. It must have been running down the left side of the rock. They just couldn’t see it past the drop-off on the side of their path. “I say, we go straight up,” he suggested. “If there’s water running down the side, there’s got to be some up there.”
“Perfect,” Abby said. “Give me a boost.”
He looked up. “How about I climb up there and lower a branch or something to help you scale this thing?”
She protested. “I’m sure I can climb this just as easily as you can.”
“Really?” he asked. Smiling, he turned to the wall and scaled the entire face in twenty seconds flat. Looking back down, he announced, “We had a rock wall at my summer camp, growing up. I’ve had years of practice, sweetie. Sit tight for a minute. Let me find something to help you up.” With that, he disappeared from view.
Abby studied the path he had taken. He had stuck his foot in the crack right in front of her. After that, he’d grabbed the small tree about eight feet up and used the other cracks above that to pull himself up. She could do this.
She stuck her right foot into a crack in the wall that was just a little lower than her hip. She threw her small body upwards, grabbing at the small tree that was growing out of the wall. Missing it with near-comic timing, she fell straight down, landing flat on her back.
She grunted and let out a little cry of pain. Her right shoulder had struck a fist-sized rock and absorbed the full weight of her body on impact. She rolled over and stood up. With a groan, she flexed her shoulder, moving it around. Nothing was broken, but she was in serious pain. She stood, looking straight up to the top of the wall. I can do this. She firmly wedged her right foot into the same crack and counted to three before once again throwing herself upward. She didn’t even have a chance to miss grabbing onto the small tree this time. As soon as her arm tried to extend over her head, pain shot through her shoulder, and her arm went no further.
She hung in the air for a brief moment, but was unable to maintain balance with only one foot stuck in the wall, and her other three limbs floundering in the air. She fell backwards again; this time, twisting her body in an effort to avoid the small rock she had struck before. In a poorly-considered plan, Abby managed to avoid the rock by tumbling left—toward the sharp drop-off on the side of the path.
Tumbling down the incline toward the drop-off, she let out a yelp each time she rolled onto her right shoulder. On the third roll, she reached out with her left hand and grabbed a sapling that was sticking out of the ground, barely eighteen-inches tall. The bottom half of her body continued to slide on the fallen leaves and loose earth toward the drop-off as the roots of the tiny tree strained to hold her weight.
She stopped sliding just as her feet had found their way over the edge. Abby hung there in space, her legs dangling in mid-air from the knees down. She lay perfectly still on her stomach with her left hand gripping the young tree that had saved her life. Slowly, she shuffled forward onto her stomach, standing up only once she was sure both feet were on solid ground.
Walking back to the rock wall, she sat down at the base and leaned against it while she waited for her breathing to return to normal. She reluctantly decided to wait for Eric’s return before making another attempt at scaling the wall. He returned about fifteen minutes later and lowered a strong vine to help her up. She wrapped the vine around her right arm so that if her shoulder gave out again and she lost her grip, at least she wouldn’t fall this time. Eric did most of the pulling, and using her left hand and the cracks in the wall to her advantage, she made it to the top. He grabbed under her right shoulder to hoist her the final distance, and she gasped in pain.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just fell on my shoulder. I’ll be fine.”
“When did that happen?”
“Just now,” she said, rubbing her shoulder. “I was getting impatient.”
He shook his head. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I did a little exploring before I helped you up here.” He gestured in the direction of a small brook. “Thirsty?”
She just about ran over to the weak little stream of water and dropped to her knees next to it. Scooping handfuls of clean, clear water, she drank her fill until her st
omach could not hold anymore. Once she was full, she lay on her back, looking up at the blue sky above. The top of the mountain was bare of trees. The only vegetation was short grass through which dark, black areas of rock showed in places.
She let out a sigh. “Wherever we are, this place sure is beautiful, if nothing else.”
“It sure is,” he admitted, less than enthusiastic about it.
Abby noticed he seemed uneasy. Something was wrong. “Everything okay? We found water. You should be happy about that, at least. Make the best of it.”
He pointed to indicate the short distance to the top of the hill—or what they were now considering to be a small mountain. “That’s the peak.” He paused. “I had to go that way to find the vine, so I took a quick look. I’m not sure what to say.”
She gave him a curious look. She figured she might as well see whatever there was to see. It was about fifty yards to the top. With her thirst satisfied, she had a newfound energy and outlook, and she happily covered the distance, while Eric tried his best to keep up.
Abby reached the top well ahead of him. She was breathing heavily but was generally surprised at how good she felt. She looked around. The very top of the crest was still a twenty-foot climb above her. So far, she had not found anything too odd. There was a pile of charred wood off to the side. Someone had a pretty big fire going there at some point.
The pile looked as if it had been there for quite awhile. There wasn’t much ash. It had probably blown away over time. There was a pile of very large logs that were probably close to a yard in length each. They were at various stages of having been burned. Off to the side, there were six or seven more large logs that had not been burned at all, though they seemed to have been weathered quite a bit. Whatever its purpose, it didn’t appear the fire had been lit at any point in recent months. Dismissing the charred wood, she climbed up the last few yards to the peak, using her hands to steady herself on the unlevel terrain. Reaching the crest, she stood to take in the scene.
Escape, the Complete Trilogy Page 3