by Danika Stone
“Actually,” Constable Wyatt said, “there are other trails.”
* * *
“Stupid, stupid…,” Vale muttered. “They’re the obvious thing to bring.”
“What’s that?”
Vale turned in surprise to see Ash crouched near the entrance to the shelter. His face was flushed like he’d been running, his dark hair tufted up on one side. She grinned. Somehow having a friend here made the whole lost-in-the-woods scenario feel less daunting.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just wishing I’d brought along some matches. It would’ve changed everything.”
“Yeah, well, beggars can’t be choosers.” Ash crawled through the doorway to join her inside.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means we’ve got trouble.”
Vale’s breath caught. “We do?”
Ash sat down heavily on the ground next to her, the top of his head bumping the branches and dislodging a handful of snow that sprinkled down onto the two of them. Vale wiped it away from her neck and shivered. It had stopped snowing, but it was still unpleasantly cold.
“The trail’s gone,” Ash said. “The snow covered everything.” He poked at the pile of supplies laid out on the garbage bag rather than look at Vale. “I took a bit of a walk, tried to find where we came in last night, but I couldn’t.”
“But the trail can’t be gone.”
“I’ve been out there searching since dawn.”
“But that—” A painful lump caught in Vale’s throat. “That doesn’t make any sense. It can’t be!”
“It can’t be, but it is.” Ash looked up, and for a split second, Vale could see the fear in his eyes. “I walked back and forth trying to locate the trail we came in on. There’s lots of trails, lots of paths…”
“Game trails,” Vale said quietly.
“… but nothing I can see clearly. I just—I think I know the point where we came into the valley, but it was cloudy last night. So I can’t be sure.”
“So, the trail’s gone,” Vale said. “And we’re lost. We’ve got to figure this out.” She pointed to Ash’s backpack. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Ash frowned. “What I’ve got?”
“What supplies did you bring?”
Ash gave her a sheepish smile. “Nothing much. Sorry.”
“Let me be the judge of that, okay?” Vale said. “Pour it out.”
Ash grabbed his pack and started to unzip it, then stopped. He reached into his coat pocket. “Cell phone.” He set it in the pile of equipment. “Though it’d be better if it was charged.”
“And if we had reception.” Vale sighed. “Even the hill wasn’t high enough. The valley walls must be blocking it.”
“Maybe.” Ash’s brows lifted. “Hey! We could climb one of the mountains. See if we could get reception!”
“You think we could? The peaks here are pretty high.”
“We don’t have to go all the way to the top. Just high enough to get reception.”
“I don’t know,” Vale said. “I mean, I don’t have any climbing equipment, and neither do you.”
“But we could try to get a little higher at least.”
“All right. That’s a plan for later,” she said. “What else do you have in the bag?”
Ash took the pieces out one by one. He had:
One bandanna.
An empty Mountain Dew bottle.
A long-sleeved thermal sweatshirt.
One large Ziploc full of Mike’s lunch garbage.
A twenty-seven-ounce plastic water bottle, half-full.
Three sticks of Juicy Fruit gum, still in their wrappers.
“You’ve got foil!” Vale gasped.
“What?”
“The gum,” she said, grabbing hold of it. “You’ve got foil! That’s it! This will work!”
Ash stared at her. “What’ll work?”
“If you have a battery”—she grabbed the small flashlight and popped open the battery case—“and you’ve got foil or steel wool or something conductive, then you have a spark.” She laughed. “We’ve got fire!”
Ash stared at her for several seconds, and then a smile broke across his face. “Fire? Are you kidding me?”
“Nope. Not kidding. Foil and a battery make a crude lighter.” She lifted her hand for a high five, and Ash smacked her palm. “We’ve got fire.”
“Better yet, we’ve got an RTS!”
“A real-time strategy?” Vale snorted.
“You know it!” He made a whooping sound. “We’re ready to deal with this crap situation!”
Vale giggled. “Uh … yeah. But the only problem is that it wears down the battery pretty fast, so we can’t use the flashlight as a flashlight anymore. It’s important the battery stays charged.”
“Fair enough. So no flashlight.” He grinned. “Hey! I’ve got a joke for you. How many gamers does it take to screw in a light bulb?”
Vale smiled. “I don’t know.”
“I dunno either. They’re still rolling initiative to see who makes the first attempt.”
Vale groaned.
“So we’ve got a lighter now,” Ash said, pointing to their inventory. “That’s cool!”
“It is, but we need to ration out the gum wrappers. They’ll burn once we use them, so we’ve only got three total.” Vale grinned. “We’re going to get out of this mess one way or another, but if we’re stuck here another night, at least we’ll be warm.”
“Awesome!” Ash clambered up and knocked his head on the ceiling again. More snow rained down on them.
Vale brushed it off her hair. “Ash? I’m not trying to bug you or anything, but could you be more careful? I don’t know about you, but I’m all out of dry clothes.”
“What? Oh, right.” He crawled out of the shelter. “Sorry, Vale.”
“It’s fine. We’ve just got to stay dry if we can.” Her smile faded. “And we’ve got to get out of the cougar’s territory before it hunts again.” She shivered. “It was in the tree above us last night. Don’t know where it is now.”
“We need to get out of here.”
“Agreed.”
Vale shook the snow off her head and gathered up the supplies. She carefully picked up the silver-wrapped gum and inspected it. “Praise God for too much TV,” she said, then glanced out the open entrance. Ash was staring up at the mountain range that surrounded them.
Vale crawled out of the hut to join him. “So we use your phone to get a message out, then make a fire to stay warm while we wait.”
“Sounds good to me. I want to go home.”
“Me too.”
Vale smiled. Maybe this would turn out all right after all.
* * *
The valley was a dish. On each side, mountain peaks rose like sharp white teeth, the fresh layer of snow spreading as far as the eye could see. In the trees, narrow paths wove like ribbons through the forest. Vale’s stomach growled, and she took another swig of water to silence it. As unimportant as her hunger was, it made today ten times harder. Her limbs were weak, each step a struggle. And she wasn’t the only hungry thing in the area.
Wild animals live here too.
As Ash had said, there were game trails everywhere, and with the passing of the deer in the early morning hours through their camp, there was no hint of which trail was the one they’d wandered in on. The wintery scene was one of stark beauty, but it held a sliver of fear. There was no hiding from the truth: They were well and truly lost.
None of the landscape that surrounded them was familiar to Vale. And try as she might, she could no longer tell which side of the valley they’d come in on. With all the hiking in the dark, she’d gotten completely turned around. Plus, there’d been the blood splatters in the snow, far too close to where they’d spent the night, and the large padded prints that crisscrossed through the woods. Cougars. The truth dampened Vale’s earlier enthusiasm for walking back to civilization. The forest where they hiked was cougar territory.
“I think
we should head up to that ridge,” Ash said as they emerged from the forest into a wide clearing.
Vale followed the line of his finger to a ragged edge of rock that crossed the horizon. “Which one?”
“That one over there. See?”
“It has a lot of snow on it. Don’t you think?”
“Well, yeah,” he said. “But it’s got an open path along the ridge and it’s in the sunshine.”
She gave a short laugh. “What does sunshine have to do with anything?”
“Side quest,” he said, grinning. “You know how in a game, you don’t know where to go, but then something lights up, and it’s a sign.” He pointed to the ridge. “That’s our side quest!”
She stared for several long seconds as Ash’s grin slowly faded.
“You don’t want to go?”
“No. I just…” She pulled out her compass. “Hold on a sec. Let me check something.”
The ridge was on the south side of the valley, at one of the lower points. Given that the Snowshoe Trail they’d originally come in on was on the far north side of Waterton Park, and the Blakiston Trail was south of that, it seemed like a sensible location to figure out where they’d gone off track.
“It’s south,” she said. “That’s a good enough place to start.”
“Why does it matter if it’s south?”
“Well, we’re on the north side of the park right now, heading in. Anything south should take us closer to civilization.” She shrugged. “We might even be able to see where Twin Lakes is from there.”
“Cool! And if we see the lakes, then I say we cross the ridge and walk south. Find Twin Lakes campground. Catch up with the rest of the class.” Ash did a solo fist pump. “Bingo! We’re back in time for supper.”
“Sounds good to me. Let me fix the straps on my pack and—”
Ash was off before she could finish.
Vale pulled her backpack on, double-checked that she had everything zipped, and jogged across the clearing to where Ash had headed into the trees. The snow was slippery, and her feet slid in the melting slush. She looked up and groaned. If Ash was hungry, his hiking pace certainly wasn’t showing it.
After a burst of running, she reached his side. “Trying to lose me?”
“Whoa! Sorry. I didn’t realize.” His pace slowed immediately.
“Thanks, Ash.”
They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes before Ash spoke. “I wasn’t trying to lose you before,” he said. “I’m just excited to get back to the others.”
“Me too.”
“So let’s hurry. Okay?”
Vale laughed. “I am hurrying, Ash. You’re, like, a foot taller than me.”
He gave her a confused look. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Your legs are longer, which means your stride is longer too. Each step you take is a step and a half of mine. That distance adds up.”
Ash frowned.
“Just trust me,” Vale said. “It’s physics.”
He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Guess that makes sense.” And he slowed his pace again.
The snow became deeper as they moved farther up the slope. When going side by side became impossible, they took turns walking one in front of the other. The person walking in front broke trail through the foot of snow while the person following got a break by walking in their footsteps. It was slow, but effective.
Vale grew increasingly sweaty as the incline rose into a sharp tree-covered slope. There was no path, so there were no switchbacks to ease the hike, and Ash seemed intent on going straight up.
For an hour, they headed through the trees, pausing at regular intervals when the pace became too hard or the hunger too much. When the forest thinned, Ash headed straight up the incline. Vale caught herself against a tree.
“Wait,” she panted. “I need a second.”
He glanced back. “What?”
She struggled up the next rise before she answered. Looking back behind them, her heart sank. The entire area was unfamiliar. There was no sign of a clear path whatsoever. They’d definitely come in on a game trail.
“I—I need a minute to catch my breath.”
“Another break?” Ash looked longingly at the open slope above them. Yesterday, he’d been hiking on only four hours of sleep. Today, he was rested but worried, the urge to find Twin Lakes driving him forward. “But we’re almost there.”
“Yes. Just a minute—”
“But we’ve gotta get to the ridge.”
“I know, but I can’t—” Vale rubbed a line of sweat on her cheek away. “Look, Ash. I get that you’re, like, a human mountain goat or something, but I need to pace myself.”
He laughed. “My gaming buddies would crack up if they heard you say that.”
“Maybe so, but it’s true. Your legs are long. That makes it way easier for you to climb.”
“I’ll slow down again,” he said.
“Actually, could you just weave a little bit? Make switchbacks.”
“Make what?”
“Switchbacks. Those turns in the trail that”—she used her hand to make a zigzag sign—“flip back and forth to make the incline easier.”
“You mean like skiers do?”
“Exactly, only going up instead of down.”
Ash peered at the slope. “I guess I could, but it’d be faster if we went straight up.”
“It won’t be faster if I can’t make it to the top.” She pressed her hand to her side. “Let’s just”—she made the same zigzag shape with her hand—“switch back and forth, okay?”
“All right. Works for me.” Ash started away from the trees. “I’ll break trail first.”
With their new switchback pattern, the hiking—though steep—grew easier. When Ash’s legs were exhausted from slogging through the deep snow, he let Vale take the lead. She took them almost to the end of the tree line, then Ash switched off again.
As they hit the open snow on the mountain’s shoulder, Vale took the front. Now that they were gaining in altitude and in the sun, she was almost too warm. She tugged open her jacket, sighing as the chill air licked over her neck.
“So tired … of … hiking,” Ash panted.
She looked back over her shoulder. “You okay?”
“Fine. Just bored.”
“You want to play a game?”
“A game?” He gave her a crooked grin. “Like what?”
“I dunno. How about two truths and a lie?”
He laughed. “You’re going to lose that game, Vale. I know all your dark secrets.”
“Hardly.” She coughed. “So you in or not?”
“Of course.” He took two quick steps, closing the space between them so that they walked one behind the other. “You go first.”
“All right. I can tie my laces behind my back—”
“Truth! I already know you can do that.”
“Shh!” Vale said. “I’m not done yet. You’ve got to wait until I say all three.”
Ash laughed. “You’re going to have to come up with better clues than that.”
“Fine. As I was saying … I can tie my laces behind my back.” She glanced at Ash; he was grinning. “Second one is that I’d go into a burning building for Mr. Bananas, and my last one is that I have an A in every subject.”
Ash’s brows pulled together.
“Your guess?” Vale said sweetly.
“But … one of them has to be a lie. Right?”
Vale glanced back again and winked. “Uh-huh. One is.”
“But…”
“You don’t know?”
Ash frowned. “It doesn’t make sense. They’re all true.”
“Nope.”
“Which one?”
Vale laughed. “Oh, how the tables have turned!”
“No way! You’d let Mr. Bananas die? That’s harsh!”
“I never said that!”
“But I know you’re an A student … and I’ve seen you do the shoelaces thing. I
don’t—”
Vale broke into a peal of laughter.
“Seriously,” Ash said. “What one is the lie?”
Vale peeked back at him. “I have a B minus in phys ed.”
“Wait … Really?” Ash snorted.
“Uh-huh. My dark secret’s out.” She smiled. “All right. Your turn now.”
“Okay,” Ash said. “How about these…”
For a long time, they went back and forth, testing their knowledge of each other and laughing as they switchbacked up the mountainside. Sweat ran down the center of Vale’s back despite the thick layer of snow on which they walked. Far below, in the valley they’d left behind, small melted patches opened up bare areas on the ground. Above the tree line, the peak neared. They just needed to get over the hump of snow-covered rock.
Vale was searching for a way up when she heard Ash snicker. A second later, something thudded into the center of her back. She looked over her shoulder.
“What’re you…?”
She shrieked and jumped sideways as Ash lobbed a snowball at her. It bounced off her shoulder and scattered, showering her hair with flakes.
“Oh, you better RUN!” Vale laughed. “Did you forget which one of us played softball in middle school?”
“Stop! No! I didn’t—”
“Get running, Ash!” She reached down and grabbed a handful of the slushy-soft snow—perfect for snowballs!—then pressed it together. “’Cause I’m taking you DOWN!”
“Don’t!” Ash laughed. “It was a joke, Vale! I only—”
Vale pulled back, lifted her knee, and forced all her strength into the throw. It spiraled from her grip, spun perfectly, and smacked Ash dead center in the imagined bull’s-eye of his chest. Snow spewed outward, dusting his face, eyebrows, and hair. Ash kicked a spray of snow her way. Suddenly they were laughing and shouting, frolicking in the snow with childish joy. For a moment, at least, the fears of the day were forgotten.
* * *
“Other trails?” Janelle repeated. “What do you mean?”
All three parents in the room turned as Constable Wyatt stood and headed to a large aerial map that hung on one wall. He gestured to the band of mountains that extended past Red Rock Canyon into the interior of BC. “To be honest, the entire area is covered in paths,” he said. “Some are old First Nations’ trails, half–grown over. They go throughout the woods. Others are game trails. There are even some that were once used by the trappers who traveled between Waterton and the BC interior in the 1930s and ’40s.” The officer stepped closer to the map, drawing lines with his fingertip through the shadows that marked the shift in elevation. “This, here, is Twin Lakes.” His finger moved west. “And this, here, is Sage Pass. There’s a trail that goes there too. It’s not clearly marked—not like the hiking paths we have in the park—but if Vale and Ash got onto it, it’d be hard for them to tell the difference.” He sighed. “Certainly if they were wandering around in the dark.”