Roz, too, was back to her usual seriousness, her face streaked with sweat and dust. She was studying a little piece of paper, her compass on her knee. Finally, she looked up at Fiona and frowned.
“Unfortunately, it’s like I thought. We haven’t made it as far as I wanted.”
“I’m sorry. I’m slowing you down.”
Roz shook her head and touched Fiona’s knee lightly. “Not at all. It was me. I guess I thought we’d be able to get farther, faster. I miscalculated. Even if you weren’t with me, I wouldn’t be able to go much quicker than this.”
Fiona couldn’t tell if she was telling the truth, but judging from Roz’s expression, she meant it, either way. Fiona’s guilt lessened a little, and she nodded.
“Okay. So how far have we come?”
“As near as I can tell, about eight, maybe almost nine miles. With heavier packs, we would have done about six in that same time, but I was still hoping for closer to ten or eleven by now.”
Fiona glanced up at the sky. “Maybe it’s earlier than you think.”
Roz shook her head. “No. It’s not. It’s about six, maybe even six thirty now. We have almost an hour of full daylight left, and another hour of twilight, give or take. That gives us about an hour and half left before we’ll need to set up some kind of camp. We’re coming up on the rock scramble in about two miles, so we’ll be lucky to make it to the bottom in that time.”
Fiona closed her eyes. Climbing up the rock scramble had been bad enough. She’d almost suppressed the memory of how bad that had been. She could hardly imagine how slow it would be going down, especially as they weren’t carrying rope.
“There’s no way around it?”
Roz shrugged. “Yes, but not really. We could hike off trail to the east, away from the river, around the rocks, but that would add about ten, fifteen miles.”
Fiona let out a breath of frustration and shook her head. “You’re right—that’s not an option. Okay, so say we make it to the bottom of the scramble before dark. Where does that put us?”
“Basically, we’re going to make it about twelve miles today before we have to stop—either before or after the scramble.”
This meant, essentially, that they wouldn’t make it halfway or anywhere near it. At one point, Roz had suggested they might even get back to the first camp by tonight—some twenty miles, total. Now, with their updated timeline, they’d have to hike over twenty miles tomorrow to reach the road. Though her load was so much lighter than before, the very idea of another twenty-mile day made Fiona feel like turning around and going back to the others.
A warm hand slid into hers, and Fiona almost jerked away, surprised. Roz’s lips were curled into a weak, thin smile. She squeezed Fiona’s fingers.
“Hey. Don’t give up on me, okay? We’re in this together. We can do this. I promise you we can.”
Fiona nodded, looking away to hide the tears of frustration that sprang into her eyes. “I know. I’m trying not to let it get to me. I’m just…scared. And tired.” She made eye contact with Roz. “I’ve never been so tired.”
Roz gave her that same weak smile. “Me, too. So how about this? I promise, once we make it back to civilization, and once Search and Rescue is on the way back here, we’ll get a hotel room—”
Fiona started, and Roz laughed and rolled her eyes. “And we’ll sleep for a week.”
Fiona closed her eyes for a second, trying to picture it. “And take a hot shower.”
Roz nodded. “And have a real meal, made with real food.”
They watched the river for a while longer, still holding hands, and a tiny flicker of hope brightened Fiona’s heart. After all, what they wanted didn’t seem so far-fetched. It was a small wish, in the grand scheme of things—a hotel, a shower, a meal. It didn’t seem like too much to ask the universe to grant it.
“We should get going,” Roz said, startling her.
Roz helped her to her feet, and, after packing up their meager supplies, the two of them struggled back into their packs. Fiona was very stiff, and the backpack felt much heavier, her shoulders chafing under her shirt and throbbing with pain. Her hands hurt again, her finger with the missing nail pulsing unhappily, and the cut on her face was making her entire cheek ache. Why she hadn’t thought to grab some of the ibuprofen from a first-aid kit was beyond her.
She followed Roz back toward the invisible trail, staying a few feet behind to make sure she didn’t step on her heels—much harder to do when they were struggling through the brush like this. Roz paused in the woods after a while, getting her bearings, and for a wild, heart-stopping moment, Fiona had the impression that she, too, was lost. After all, they’d walked downriver for a few minutes, away from where they’d left the trail, so there was no telling how far they were from where they’d diverted. She finally saw Roz’s expression clear, certainty flooding back into her eyes. Fiona made herself take a deep, shaky breath. Stop panicking, she told herself. Roz started walking on what was presumably the trail, and Fiona let the distance between them extend a little more before starting after her.
They’d been hiking for perhaps fifteen minutes before they both heard it. Roz froze at once, holding up a hand for Fiona to do the same, but she needn’t have bothered. Fiona had stopped at the first hint of the sound, holding her breath. At first, she could almost convince herself that it was, perhaps, an animal—deer or a pair of elk butting heads, maybe. But she was kidding herself. The sound was too regular, too singular, the same sound coming every few seconds. It was very distinct, even if she’d rarely heard it outside of the movies. It was the sound of someone chopping wood.
She and Roz made eye contact, not speaking, and Roz immediately started walking toward the sound. Fiona moved to follow and then hesitated. After all, if this was the same noise they’d heard the first day in the woods, when the men and horses were still with them, the sound represented all of this—the guys’ disappearance, the marks on the trees, the pit and bear traps in the second camp, in essence everything that had plagued them for the last three days. Should they go toward it or run away?
Roz had already made that choice for her, and if she didn’t move quickly, she’d be left behind. She had to jog to catch up, and Roz, hearing her, stopped and motioned with her hands to quiet down. Fiona slowed and minced her way forward, trying to avoid the small twigs and branches all over the ground, waiting to be snapped. Roz gestured for her to come closer, and, when she was standing a couple of feet away, she leaned closer and whispered in Fiona’s ear.
“You should stay here. I want to see who they are so I can tell the police what and who to search for.”
Fiona shook her head as violently as she could. No way was she being left behind. Roz seemed momentarily annoyed, but she finally nodded, gesturing for the two of them to keep moving. They crept forward through the woods, the old-growth trees so thick and tall here, they found very little undergrowth. Fiona felt incredibly exposed. Even with the trees around them to hide behind, they would be visible to anyone looking their way.
Eventually, the sound grew louder, more distinct, the reverberating echoes no longer blending into each other with distance. Each chop of the axe, if that’s what it was, was so regular, so specific, that Fiona was having a tough time believing that a human being was making it. It was too regular, too rhythmic—mechanical, in a word. If she had some means of recording and timing the pause between the sound, it would surely be exactly the same length every time. That means something, she thought, but didn’t know what.
Seconds before she was certain the two of them would walk into a clearing with this person or people, Roz gestured for her to stop, pointing at a clump of bushes off to their left. Roz moved very carefully in front of her, leading the way, lifting her feet almost to knee level to keep from stepping too loudly. Fiona followed suit, moving so slowly it took her a long while to catch up. Roz was crouched on the ground, and when Fiona joined her, the two of them resting on the balls of her feet, they were both breathing
heavily. Again, Roz leant close to her ear, this time whispering so quietly Fiona had to strain to hear her.
“I’m going to inch through this bush until I can see what’s making that sound. Stay here and keep an eye out. Touch my leg if you see something. Try not to make any noise.”
Before Fiona could try to stop her, Roz had already shrugged out of her backpack and down on her stomach in the dirt, creeping into the brush. Fiona wanted to grab her leg and pull her back to safety, but it was already too late. Before she could do anything, Roz had all but disappeared. Fiona could see the soles of her boots and nothing else. A long, terrifying wait followed, the steady sound of the ax grating on her nerves the longer she listened. Roz didn’t move either, simply lay there under the bush, apparently watching something.
Sitting this way on the balls of her feet was starting to hurt, and Fiona tried to sit back onto her butt as quietly as possible. She lost her balance, slipping down hard, the jolt sending a spike of pain through her tailbone, her teeth biting the tip of her tongue. Her backpack rose and dropped, something metal inside it clanging.
The sound of the ax stopped at once, and suddenly Roz was backing up and out of the bush, scrambling upward.
“Run,” she said, launching to her feet.
“What?” Fiona asked.
Roz yanked Fiona up, almost lifting her into the air on her upward swing. Her face inches from hers, Roz repeated herself, screaming now.
“Run! Now!” Whatever Roz had seen, it had clearly scared the hell of her. She was obviously terrified. Fiona never wanted to see anything that could put that kind of panic in her eyes.
Roz ran away, darting back the way they came, and Fiona, after one terrified last glance behind her, broke into a sprint, desperate to catch up.
Chapter Thirteen
The burst of adrenaline kept Fiona going for a long time. In fact, she didn’t even feel tired for several minutes. She kept her attention on the back of Roz’s head, several yards away and occasionally slipping away into the trees. She would push herself then, her legs a whirl of speed, and suddenly see the other woman again. They were running too hard to give her a chance to glance behind them, but she was fairly certain that if someone was chasing them, she would have heard them coming, even over her gasping breath.
They maintained this tortuous speed long past the point at which the initial scare had worn off. Fiona could feel herself starting to slow, her legs no longer willing to do what she told them. She was sure she would fall so far behind Roz she’d be lost forever. If Roz turned somewhere too quickly or sharply, she would never find her again.
Roz appeared then, suddenly, hiding partly behind an enormous tree, gesturing wildly at Fiona. Fiona made herself put the last of her energy into a final burst of speed, sailing over several fallen logs and rocks, finally catching up. Roz dragged her behind the tree and roughly pushed the straps of the backpack off Fiona’s shoulders, slipping it onto her own back a moment later. She let Fiona catch her breath and then grabbed her arm, pulling her close. She was still whispering.
“We’re almost to the rock scramble. It’s maybe half a mile from here.” She pointed forward in the direction they’d been running. “We’re going to have to go down it as quickly as possible.”
“Did they see you?” Fiona said, staring around the tree, back into the woods behind them.
Roz shook her hard. “I don’t think so. But they definitely heard that sound you made.”
“I’m sorry.”
Roz lifted one shoulder. Nothing could be done about it now.
“What did you—”
“Shh!” Roz suddenly said, slapping a hand over Fiona’s mouth.
Fiona struggled and then froze, hearing something coming from the woods. She and Roz stared back the way they came, waiting, but didn’t see anything. They could hear, however, the sound of breaking branches. Even during the seconds that they listened, Fiona could tell that whatever it was, it was getting closer, coming from at least two different directions directly toward them.
Roz gestured for her to follow, and the two of them broke into a light trot away from the sounds. As they fled, Roz seemed a little more hesitant, pausing more often before moving forward again.
Finally, it was lighter ahead of them through the woods, and before long, Fiona could see the sky opening up beyond the edge of the trees where the rock scramble began. They paused there, staring down the long, treacherous valley of broken boulders and stones. Roz groaned and slapped the tree next to her, clearly furious.
“Damn it. I knew it.”
“What?” Fiona asked.
“We’re off course. I got thrown off by that little jog of ours. I thought it might happen after our last stop, but I wasn’t sure.”
“What’s the problem? Can’t we make it to the bottom here?”
“Of course we can. But there’s a reason we went up this where we did yesterday. That area has the easiest ascent and descent. I’ve never tried going up or down anywhere near here. It’s not safe.”
“So should we try to go down somewhere else?”
Roz shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know how. We would have to backtrack over there. The only real option other than trying here is to go down near the waterfall.” She pointed to their right. “There are some good handholds on the rocks along the edge. But I wouldn’t want to do that without rope. It can be slippery.”
In a word, Fiona realized, they were screwed. If they backtracked, they would probably run into whoever was chasing them. If they tried either of the other descents, they were risking their lives. Already, time was slipping away. She could tell by the long shadows on the ground that the sun was getting ready to set. An hour or more had passed since they sat by the river, having their awful meal, and they were hardly any distance nearer their goal.
Fiona stared down the length of the rock scramble in front of them. It didn’t seem any better or worse than the one they’d come up yesterday, but she was no expert. Here at the edge, the initial drop-off was a little more extreme—five feet down to the first ledge. Beyond that, it was, perhaps, a little steeper down to the flat ground of the valley, and the boulders in their way seemed much larger here and there along that earlier route, but other than that, she couldn’t tell why this was such a problem.
“It doesn’t look—”
CRACK.
She instantly recognized the sound of the gun, and the two of them dropped to the ground. Fiona had heard people say that gunfire sounded like fireworks, but she’d known, instinctively, to get down and out of the way the very instant she heard the shot. Some part of her, perhaps, had also expected it. Ever since they’d started running, she’d known something would come for them.
CRACK.
A gun fired again, hitting a tree some five feet away, splinters of wood flying into the air. Both she and Roz were pressed into the dirt on their stomachs, as flat as they could manage. Fiona put her hands over the back of her head, Roz doing the same, their faces inches apart.
“We have to go,” Roz said, gesturing toward the slanting scrabble to her right.
“How can we? We’ll be like sitting ducks—”
CRACK. CRACK.
Again, a nearby tree let lose two bursts of broken, splintered wood.
“We don’t have a choice,” Roz said. “The angle will help, too. We’ll have to try to hide behind a bigger boulder where they can’t shoot at us.”
“And then what?”
“We’ll figure that out when we get there.”
“Are you crazy?”
But Roz was already army-crawling toward the rock scramble, still nearly flat on the ground, and when she reached the edge, she glanced back at Fiona and motioned for her to follow. The earth was rough and painful under her elbows, and as Fiona dragged herself to the edge of the rocks, she expected to be shot in the back of the head.
Roz swung her legs over the edge and dropped off. Fiona followed suit, and Roz grabbed her waist, helping her down. They
were already safer here over the edge, and for a second, Fiona wondered if they might not simply stay here. It would be difficult for whoever was shooting at them to see them here unless they peeked over the edge. Maybe she and Roz could throw something at them or grab their ankles.
Roz, however, had other ideas, as she immediately started moving down the scramble, leaping from stone to stone, huddling low between hops, a little like a giant frog. Fiona had to use every ounce of her will to follow, starting three times before she made her first jump. The boulder she landed on shifted a little, and she let out a little cry of fright. Roz whirled around, gesturing wildly for her to hurry, but it took her a second to move forward. Between the boulders and large stones, smaller rocks filled in the gaps, almost as if they’d been poured in there on purpose. Fiona stepped on a patch of this scree twice, nearly twisting her ankle both times. She was so focused on her movement forward, it never occurred to her to look back, but when she glanced up to see where Roz had gone, she saw the other woman staring up and behind her, watching something.
“Get down!” Roz shouted.
Fiona started to drop without thinking and landed hard on her knees and one wrist. That pain was eclipsed in an instant when a searing punch of white agony flashed across her left shoulder. Instinctively, she jerked away, likely saving her own life. Another CRACK, and the stone she’d been on seconds before released a puff of dust as a bullet ricocheted off it.
Roz was there, suddenly, dragging her bodily forward, and Fiona, who was reeling from the pain, was dimly aware of the sound of gunfire above and behind them, exploding in little bursts of sound and dust all around them.
Finally, Roz dragged her behind the first large boulder, and the gunfire stopped as if it had been turned off. Roz propped her up with her back to the boulder, then removed the backpack before digging around inside. She cursed and shook her head.
From the Woods Page 14