by Danika Stone
Janelle fought back the urge to scream. “Thanks. I’ll tell them that.”
The searchers moved on, and Janelle was once again alone in the forest.
Reaching Red Rock Canyon, she took the school bus and drove to town. There, she stopped at the Waterton police station, where they were already in a state of high alert. Constable Jordan Wyatt had contacted the Lethbridge police. They’d brought in the park’s rescue team several hours ago.
The people I met on the trail, she thought.
“The searchers are combing the woods on the Snowshoe Trail from Red Rock Canyon all the way to Twin Lakes,” Constable Wyatt said. “They’ll extend the search to the area beyond the trail tomorrow morning. The Lethbridge police have contacted the parents of the students … They’ll be here soon.”
“Soon,” Janelle repeated.
Wyatt nodded. “In the next hour.”
Janelle looked down at her hiking boots, rain sodden and flecked with grime, snow clinging in pills to the laces. Oh my God, her mind screamed. What do I tell them? She took a slow breath and looked up.
“Thanks for calling them,” she said in a hollow voice.
“No problem.” He smiled, though it was sad. “Don’t worry yet, Ms. Holland.”
“When should I worry?”
His expression grew serious. “Worry if we can’t find them in the next few hours.”
Janelle’s gaze moved to the window. Outside, streaks of pink lit the eastern sky. Vale and Ash were lost. The Shumways and Mrs. Hamid were on their way. She rubbed her temples. She’d lost their children, and they were going to want answers.
* * *
The sky had lightened from sooty black to dark gray when Ash awoke. He was warm and relaxed, Vale’s body a soft shape in front of him, her hair brushing his nose. He sighed and shifted, then froze. With the arrival of dawn, something else had arrived.
His mind sent out a plea of sheer terror. Oh my God, body, now is NOT THE TIME TO GET AN ERECTION!
For a few seconds, Ash took slow breaths, focusing on anything other than Vale pressed against him. He thought about his mother’s house, his brother’s stinky runners, even his math class. Nothing helped! With Vale’s butt pushed up against his groin, there was no way not to react.
Panicked, Ash eased himself away from Vale. She’d barely allowed him to help her warm up. A morning boner would make the situation infinitely more precarious. He slid as far away as he could get and pulled his jacket on atop his damp clothes. Oblivious to Ash’s worry, Vale slept on. Her eyes were closed, and the slow rise and fall of her breathing rustled the coat that covered her.
Thank God she’s a sound sleeper!
But now that he was awake, Ash had a new problem to deal with. His body worked like clockwork. Fifteen minutes after he awoke, each and every day, he was in the washroom. And on any day other than today, he’d be sitting on the toilet with the music blasting, ready to enjoy what Ash’s grandfather euphemistically called a “morning constitutional.” Ash’s gut churned, and he stifled a groan. Vale sighed in her sleep, and he clambered out of the lean-to into the icy predawn, worried he’d wake her.
Around him, the woods where they’d stopped for the night were covered in a heavy layer of snow. There was just enough light to see the faint shape of the shelter. Around him, pine boughs hung low under a heavy blanket of snow. If his stomach hadn’t been churning, Ash would have been amazed at the sight. As it was, he caught himself against a tree, wincing until the stomach cramp passed. His body didn’t know his schedule had changed, and that was a problem. He scanned the darkness for someplace that would function as the bathroom he needed. No use denying it: He had to take a dump … and he needed to do it NOW.
Intestines in knots, Ash stumbled farther and farther into the forest. He scanned the trees. Got to watch for animals. But nature was calling, and that meant he needed to be far enough away that he could have some privacy. With the fresh layer of snow on the ground, his tracks were a clear path back to the lean-to where he’d slept most of the night; he hoped that Vale would be smart enough not to follow him.
In desperation, he sprinted to a knot of trees with a lush screen of bushes around their base. He crouched, then froze. A shiver ran up his spine. Somewhere in the distance, a branch broke. Probably just the weight of the snow, his mind chattered. Some of the branches hung all the way to the ground. Another branch broke on the other side of the forest, and he spun, heart thudding. But what if it’s NOT the snow? What if it’s an animal?
He nervously scanned the woods as far as he could see. All clear. Seeing nothing except for a few curious birds in the trees, Ash dropped his trousers and crouched.
“Ugh!”
When he leaned over, his pants pooled around his ankles, making it impossible for him to relieve himself without soiling them. He swore and pulled them up to his knees; he crouched again, holding them in place with one hand. Ash wobbled. It was an awkward position, but it got them out of the way. Pants at his knees, he hobbled over to a nearby tree and caught hold of it with one hand. Balanced like this, he could keep from falling over, could hold his pants out of the way, and he could answer the call of nature.
“There we go…”
A minute later, Ash sighed in relief. He felt a hundred times better; all he needed now was—
“Oh, crap!”
He had no toilet paper.
“This is NOT funny!” Ash grumbled.
Ash duck-waddled away from the steaming pile of excrement (careful not to step in it) and over to a nearby bush. He reached out for a handful of leaves, then froze. What if they’re poison ivy? Ash knew nothing about real-life camping. His experience was limited to the “camping” of online games where he’d occasionally hole up to avoid getting killed. When it came to nature, Ash was oblivious. He spent 95 percent of his time indoors (and at least half of that in his mom’s basement playing games). The leaves could be anything at all. Ash just didn’t have the knowledge.
“No fricking way!”
For several seconds, Ash crouched, undecided. It was the aching in his thighs (and the stink in the air) that made the decision for him. He tightened his grip on the handful of leaves and—with a silent prayer—wiped himself clean. When his pants were back up, he checked the bottom of his boots, then stepped away from the mess. Lacking running water, he used a snowball of sloppy, wet slush to wash his hands, then dried them on the sides of his pants.
He followed his footsteps back toward the shelter, nodding happily to himself. First challenge down. With his morning constitutional complete, even finding their way back to the trail felt doable. Now we just need to figure out where—
In the shadows of the tall trees, an animal moved.
* * *
Vale woke, heart pounding. Her eyes opened in the darkness of the shelter as she struggled to make sense of the strange sound that had woken her. What in the world was that? Whatever she’d heard was nearby, but groggy from sleep, she couldn’t put a finger on its origin. Maybe it was just a dream. I could have—
“Maaa-a-a-am!”
The plaintive crying appeared a second time. It was high pitched, like a baby, or perhaps a child, calling for its mother. Confused, Vale pushed herself up on one elbow. It was almost pitch black inside the lean-to—the light stick having faded into a dull green—but beyond the darkness, a circle of predawn gloom appeared.
“Did you hear that, Ash?” she whispered. “Something outside in the…” She turned and her words faded as she caught sight of the bare patch behind her. She sat motionless, fear filling her like the cold that had spread through her limbs last night. “Ash?!”
He was gone.
Outside the shelter, something moved through the forest. The footsteps sounded like a person walking at a distance, or perhaps a dog moving through the snow. “Maaa-a-a-am!” the voice cried again.
“What the…?” Fighting panic, Vale struggled to pull on her coat, then crawled to the open entrance of the shelter. Her breath rele
ased as she stuck her head out the door. “Oh thank God,” she muttered.
A line of footprints headed away from the shelter into the nearby woods. Though it was barely light enough to see yet, Vale suspected Ash had gone to relieve himself. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene beyond the shelter. In the hours since they’d fallen asleep, the seasons had changed. Outside the narrow opening was a winter wonderland; a heavy layer of snow covered every tree, bush, and mountain peak.
“Maaa-a-a-am!”
A branch broke and Vale jerked. From the far side of the forest, a flicker of movement drew her attention. A small shadow appeared, then another … and another. They came forward, appearing by degrees.
“Maaa-a-a-am!” the smallest called.
Vale grinned. It’s just a deer.
The fawn was half-grown. A yearling, at most, the spotted marking of babyhood no longer on its flanks. Around it, other, adult deer walked wraithlike through the trees, moving nervously away from the lean-to.
“Maaa-a-a-am!” the fawn cried again.
Vale watched, breath held, as the fawn passed directly in front of the opening of the hut. The deer held one leg up, its crooked three-legged walk causing her smile to falter. It can hardly keep up with the others. Vale leaned farther out the open doorway, her gaze following the herd as they moved deeper into the trees, and the single fawn, trailing behind. She held her breath. Vale had never been this close to a wild animal before. She wished that Ash was here to see it too.
The fawn stumbled, then glanced back over its shoulder. Its gaze paused anxiously on the shelter, then lifted.
Vale smiled.
“Maaa-a—”
Everything happened at once: The branches directly above the lean-to shifted with a suddenness that shocked Vale into silence; a scream—like a woman’s voice melded with the roar of a lion, loud and near—broke through the wooded glade. Snow pellets smacked Vale’s face. The snow a few feet beyond the shelter exploded as a large golden animal—a cougar!—dropped from the trees straight above the lean-to and pounced on the fawn. Blood sprayed the snow as the cougar shook the fawn, breaking its neck.
She stared in horror as the cougar loped away from the shelter, dragging the fawn. Its dead eyes stared back at Vale. The rest of the herd bounded away in long graceful jumps, disappearing into the shadows of the tall trees.
Perhaps ten seconds had passed.
From the other side of the clearing, a new shadow appeared, tall and ungainly. Ash. “Vale?” he called. “What was—?”
“Shhh…!” Vale hissed. “Get back here. Fast!”
Ash jogged toward her. “What was that sound? I thought I heard—” He staggered to a stop at the exact point where the cougar had dropped. The snow was smeared red with blood. “What the hell?”
“Hurry, Ash!” she snapped. “You need to get back inside!”
“But what—?”
“Get in here! There’s a cougar in the woods. It just killed a deer.” She swallowed against a dry throat. “There could be another one.”
Ash struggled into the shelter, smacking his head on the roof as he did. The pine boughs and snow felt like a flimsy protection, but it was all they had.
“You saw a cougar?” he whispered. “Like … here? In the woods?”
“Yes. It killed a deer. We’ve got to be quiet.”
Ash’s eyes widened. “Should we try to run?”
Vale shook her head. “Too risky. There could be more than one cougar out there.” She winced. “We’d never see it coming if it came after us.”
Ash shuddered. “I’ll grab the flashlight.”
“Good idea.”
Vale huddled at Ash’s side, her heart in her throat. Somewhere nearby, the scream of a cougar broke through the glade. Another cougar out hunting. Vale put her chin to her knees, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie down. Not with the cougars outside in the forest. Not with them being lost.
She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to cry. We’re lost because of me. Far in the distance, a third cougar roared, and then the forest was silent once more. Vale rubbed away her tears, while next to her, Ash stared up at the branches above their heads.
Side by side, they waited for the light.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Okay, Jim. I’ve got some bad news.”
MARK, 28 DAYS LATER
VALE JERKED AWAKE with an angry ache in her gut. So hungry. She rolled over, squinting as a band of sunlight slashed across her vision. At some time in the hours since the cougar attack, she’d fallen asleep. Momentarily blinded, she was greeted by a glittering world. Snow shone with brilliance that hurt. The hollow of the entrance had been pushed open from the inside, a human-sized shape in its place, and beyond it, the day shone silver blue, the bounce of sunshine on snow dazzling.
“Ash…? You out there?”
She got no answer.
Vale’s stomach growled, and she sat up groggily. Outside the open door of the shelter, Ash was nowhere to be seen, though a new line of tracks led off into the trees, heading the opposite direction from the night before. She shivered as the coat she’d been sleeping under slid down to expose her bare arms. It wasn’t as cold in the pine bough hut as it had been last night, but it was still below freezing. Her fingertips were icy, and the hair that had pulled free of her ponytail clung to her face in stringy tendrils.
Vale tugged her jacket on and zipped it up to her chin, wincing as the damp fabric clung to her chilled skin. It felt like she’d pulled her clothes out of the dryer half an hour too soon. She crawled outside and stretched her back. The forest was calm and quiet, the only sound a few birds in the trees.
“Ash…?” she called warily.
Still nothing.
A sliver of fear rose up Vale’s spine. What if he took off on me? What if I’m stuck here alone? She followed Ash’s footprints away from the hut for twenty feet, stumbling to a stop as she came across a series of tracks carefully laid out in the snow. The letters spelled out the word PEE. From the tail of the last E, the trail of footprints continued on into the forest.
A giggle bubbled from Vale’s throat. She cupped her hand to her mouth, shouting: “You, uh … You doing okay out there?”
“Other than freezing my balls off and accidentally peeing on my shoe?” Ash said, his voice echoing in the distance. “Yeah. Totally fine. Best day of my life. Thanks.”
Vale laughed. “Um … okay, then. TMI much?”
“You asked, Vale.”
With a snort, she walked back to the camp, climbed into the lean-to to get her pack, and dug through it in search of supplies.
The food she’d brought was completely gone, an empty plastic bag and a bit of garbage in its place. Vale’s stomach rumbled in protest. She’d think about that later. Food, Vale thought, is a last-priority item. The average person could live up to three months on body fat alone. It would be unpleasant, but not impossible, to last until they were found by rescuers … and that was the goal.
Be found.
Vale shook out her pack onto the black garbage bag, sorting through the items on the plastic that had formed the vapor barrier on which she’d slept. She had:
A change of clothes including one tank top, a fresh pair of panties, and walking shorts.
A safety kit that included eight Band-Aids, four antiseptic wipes, one small tube of antibiotic ointment, a small roll of medical tape, four pieces of gauze, and six blister-sealed acetaminophen tablets.
The kit also included one foil emergency blanket. Vale gasped as she saw it. This could have been useful last night! She’d entirely forgotten it was in the kit.
Two extra pairs of socks. Vale pulled those on immediately and put her damp pair in the backpack.
A small palm-sized flashlight that ran on a single AA battery.
Three empty black garbage bags (including the two they’d worn as rain slickers, then slept on).
One empty Ziploc baggie filled with crumbs of trail mix from the day before. Vale took a moment and
licked out the bottom of the bag. It only made her hunger worse.
A twenty-ounce metal water canteen, mostly empty.
Six tampons and three heavy-flow sanitary pads (brought along at the insistence of her mother even though Vale’s period wasn’t due until next week).
A small compass—completely useless because she didn’t know which direction they needed to go.
And one large Ziploc bag full of wrappers and an empty juice box.
Vale stared at the pile of supplies for a long time. This was it. This was what she had to survive with. It had felt like more than she’d ever need when she’d packed it under her father’s watchful gaze, but now it seemed useless. Obvious things—like a handheld radio—were missing, useless items—like the sanitary pads—in their place. Her heart sank as she looked down at the pile.
“Matches,” she murmured. “I should have brought matches.”
* * *
Janelle Holland, Debra and Brad Shumway, and Ashton Hamid’s mother, Zara, sat in the Waterton police headquarters office across from Constable Jordan Wyatt, the officer handling the missing persons’ case. They’d been here for an hour, but it felt like ten times that.
Janelle stared down at her hands, willing herself not to cry. (The effort was harder than it seemed.) She’d broken down a few minutes ago, and as she stared into the grief-stricken faces of the Shumways and Mrs. Hamid, her body threatened to do it again.
“I’m sorry,” Janelle said for the tenth (or perhaps twentieth) time. “I truly don’t understand how Vale and Ash got separated from the rest of the group. They were accounted for at the lunch site, but—”
“If they were accounted for,” Mr. Shumway interrupted, “I don’t see how you lost them. There were three instructors, weren’t there? How?”
“Yes, but it was foggy as we neared the campsite,” Janelle said. “We were walking in the rain and—”
“But there’s only one trail,” Mr. Shumway said, pointing to the map on the office wall. “If there were other trails, I could understand it, but it’s a straight run from Avion Ridge to—”