by Nina Lincoln
“Don’t worry,” a teacher with a smarmy smile and large gap between her teeth says, giving Colt a broad smile, “there’s a GPS in your compass.”
Fantastic. Sourly, I step off the bus and stare into the forest. This is so much shit I don’t know where to start. I should’ve claimed mono or some shit like Melissa. She’s probably sitting back and laughing at us all right now.
Grimly, I stand next to the others at the edge of the concrete as we watch the bus pull away. To my right is a low squat building where the restrooms reside, with a large map just past it, the blue and red lines marking the trails nothing more than tiny squiggles from here.
Dirk’s the first to speak into the silence as we all stand around glumly. “Maybe we should just follow the road.”
“It’s twice as long,” Hayden grunts, turning toward the trees. “C’mon, it can't be that bad. Let’s just follow the damn compass south. It should be a straight shot from here.”
The trees are so thick here that we’re forced to follow Dirk in a single line as he leads the way holding the compass aloft. We’re all so quiet - I can hear the guy’s as they breathe heavily, well that and the natural sounds of the native creatures around us.
Thoughts of which bring to mind the dying animal from the other night, and I’m annoyed once again. We’re not fucking survivalists, and I’m pretty sure even badass Hayden can’t take on a fucking bear if we happen upon one.
Colt steps up with the guys, and they murmur in low tones about sports or some shit while I glance around warily and grimly acknowledge I have terrible luck, so if anyone will run across a wild animal, it's gonna be me. With that in mind, I scurry closer to them and trudge along mulishly.
I can’t help but to psychoanalyze how this can go wrong as we do, which does nothing for my mood. Hell, I’m even annoyed that the guys are in good spirits while I brood behind them.
After about an hour of listening to them debate the merits of the greatest quarterback of all time, I intervene, annoyed, “Stop being a bunch of douchebags. We all know it's Joe Montana…”
Silence surrounds me as the guys look at each other wide-eyed, and then Colt looks at me out of the corner of his eye and adjusts his dick in his pants with a wink.
Rolling my eyes, I smile, heat surging through me despite his joke.
“Oh, Sweetie, if you ever choose to lose this dick…” Dirk jokes, to which Colt slaps him in the back of the head.
“Hey, dick,” Dirk exclaims before they break out in a playful scuffle.
The afternoon progresses along the same lines, and we make good time walking, but with each mile, we see nothing but the same damn trees around us, and as the sun starts to set in the sky, we stop to rest, glaring around with fatigue.
My feet hurt, my back’s sore, and I’m fucking exhausted. I’m clearly no survivalist, and I hope they have a fucking survey or something I can fill out after this shit because it’s going to be all zeros.
Colt pulls me against him, and I relax into his embrace, thankful we’re together. I can’t imagine the alternative, assigned groups, I think with a shudder. I don’t trust too many people, not after everything, and this feels like a fucking nightmare I can’t wake from.
“We should’ve been there by now,” Dirk says grimly.
“You sure you know how to read a compass?” Hayden jeers.
Rolling his eyes, he throws the compass at Hayden’s chest. “Fine, you do it. Dick.”
Hayden catches it one-handed, glancing at the tiny screen, before shrugging and handing it off to Colt.
Colt takes a look and says, “I don't know. The good news is they should be looking for us by now. Let’s just keep heading south. We’re bound to run into them.”
I’m tired, and with every inch, the sun descends in the sky, it gets a little cooler, but if we don’t keep moving, it will only worsen. So, we trudge on, growing quieter and quieter the farther we walk without running into anyone.
After another hour, it’s become too dark to keep going. We eat the last of our granola bars and form a circle to consider how the guy told us to make a fire before digging through the bag and finding a box of matches inside.
The guys set about creating a stone circle and gathering wood, which quickly devolves into a fight between Hayden and Dirk as they argue over the matches and waste quite a few in the process.
Eventually, I lose my patience and grab them from Hayden’s hand, searching out some kindling to do it myself.
Luckily, the wood is dry, and after a few good starts, I get it going, sitting beside it, and holding my hands next to the warmth as I stare around us uneasily.
We can’t see beyond the light of the fire, an animal could emerge, and it would be too late. We don’t have any weapons beyond the damn matches, and it’s getting colder by the fucking minute. We’re practically sitting ducks until our rescue arrives, which could be tomorrow at this rate.
“We should ration what’s left of the water,” I say grimly, watching Dirk take another long drink of his.
“Why? They’re gonna come around anytime and scoop us up,” he says with a shrug.
“It’s pitch black. Unless they have a helicopter, they’re not going to find us in the dark. It’s like a needle in a haystack.”
Hayden chuffs, “I didn’t realize you’re such a fucking downer.”
“Try realist,” I say, turning away. I know what it’s like to wander the forest alone and scared, and the first lesson I learned the hard way is to conserve water but try telling that to these jerks.
When Colt pulls me into his side, I drowse as I listen to them chat around me, exhaustion pulling at my limbs.
“Shelby Moore...big tits...I’d…”
“Mm...nice…”
Someone chuckles, and I drop into an uneasy sleep.
*****
You’re fucking useless. Cry like a baby. Your mother isn’t here to coddle you.
Sitting up, I glance around, shivering. It’s fucking cold, the fire has burned down, and the guys are asleep all around me. I don’t know what pulled me from sleep, and I’m just settling back into Colt’s side when a twig snaps from the trees behind me.
Sitting back up quickly, I search the area while my heart pounds in my chest. Maybe it’s the faculty. Maybe they’ve finally found us? Or perhaps it’s a fucking bear, and we’re about to get eaten.
Snap. A rustling follows - something grunts.
Shaking Colt’s arm, I stare over my shoulder, waiting for whatever to emerge. Colt blinks his eyes open and stares at me with confusion, and slowly I raise a shaking hand, pointing into the woods.
“What?” he asks gruffly, sitting up and wrapping his arms around me from behind.
“Something’s over there,” I whisper.
“Where?”
“Sh,” I exclaim.
Chuffing, he pulls away to stand, and I grab his hand, but he steps around me toward the edge of the tree line.
“Colt!” I whisper, but ignoring me, he cocks his head to the side.
Before I can say more, a figure emerges from the trees, and at first, all I feel is relief. We’re found! But then, horror slowly replaces the relief, and my stomach cramps painfully.
Standing before us isn’t a group of teachers. No, a single figure dressed in a hoodie and jeans lurks at the edge of the trees silently.
“Colt,” I whisper, crawling toward him on my knees.
But it’s too late, the figure raises his hand, and something rings out with a pop, discharging with a quick flash in the darkness.
Colt staggers back, clutching his chest, and I shriek, but it sounds far away like I’m in a tunnel. Crawling toward him, I raise a shaky hand as he falls to his knees, crimson blooming over his shoulder.
“What the fuck?” Hayden says behind me.
Hovering over Colt, I glance between him and the man with the gun, panting with terror.
“Please don’t die,” I moan.
Dirk appears, pushing me aside and helping
Colt to lay down on the ground, his face ashen.
Looking at me grimly, Dirk whispers, “Run when I say.”
“What?” I ask, frantically looking at Colt, who’s lying on his back with a pained expression. He stares at me with wide eyes and nods in agreement.
Shaking my head frantically, I whisper ‘no,’ but he says, “Yes, please, Finn.”
Dirk doesn’t wait for me to agree, standing and facing our aggressor. “Yo man, what do you want?”
“You know what he wants,” the voice says.
My heart clenches painfully, a sick feeling of acceptance rolling down my spine - this was never going to be easy. I should have known because nothing ever fucking is.
Glancing down at Colt, I gaze into his beautiful grey eyes, wondering if this is the last time I’ll see him alive. How foolish to believe this was over. I should never have taken the events that lead us to Nate seriously, and now Colt may die because of it.
Unless Nate somehow posted bail. But why? Why me? Fuck.
“I love you,” I whisper to Colt, smiling tremulously when he says, “Oh Princess, I love you, too.”
With a grimace, he grabs my hand and squeezes, flinching at the movement and staring at all the blood, I shudder. He’s going to die without medical intervention, and there’s nothing I can do.
I don’t want to leave him, but if I stay, someone else could get hurt. It’s me this piece of shit wants.
“Not gonna happen,” Dirk says and lunges, shouting, “now!”
Without thought, I spring to my feet and run for the trees, refusing to look back. This could be the last time I see Colt.
After this, one or both of us could be dead, and I’m leaving him, but maybe if I do, the threat for them all will leave with me. Please let them be okay.
Rushing through the trees, I ignore the branches slapping at my face, racing between obstacles by the light of the moon as I sob under my breath, “Please let him be okay.”
After a few hundred yards, I stop to catch my breath, bending over to clutch my knees. This was a bad idea. I need to go back. What if Colt dies?
Turning, I freeze when something steps behind me, blocking out the moonlight, and with a cold chill down my spine, I whimper and take off again, racing through the bushes.
Branches slap at my face, twigs break under my shoes, but with a stitch in my side, I keep going, desperately trying to get my breathing under control.
On and on I go until I can’t any longer.
Slowing to a walk, I glance around, moving forward at a shuffling pace even though I want to give up and curl into a ball and cry. My chest aches from the exertion, and it’s really fucking dark.
I don’t know where I am, and I’m alone. I don’t even have the GPS, and I could be heading in the wrong direction.
I’m screwed.
Chapter Thirteen
Pick up the damn pace. You wanted to fucking camp. This is camping.
Dad, I’m tired.
I don’t fucking care! God!
Sniffling, I glance around wearily, wishing I had never agreed to go on this trip. Dad’s been angry since we got here, and nothing I do is right.
A burst of pain shoots up my leg as I trip over a broken log, and falling to the ground, I burst into tears.
Goddamnit! You’re a fucking nuisance! I’m done. You hear me? Done!
He walks away with long strides as I sit on the forest floor and clutch my knee.
Dad? I ask tremulously, but he doesn’t turn.
Standing, I limp after him, but he’s too fast, and soon I can’t even see his form in the distance.
Dropping to the ground again, I sob out a breath, my chest aching with regret and rage.
What does he want from me?
Shakily, I wipe my face and stand, walking in the direction I last saw him.
He left me alone. I’m alone, and it’s getting dark and scary.
Settling on a log, I cover my face and shudder. I’ve been walking for what feels like hours, but there’s no one anywhere. I’m tired and thirsty and hungry. I could quickly die out here, and I don’t even know if my fan is still pursuing me.
I’m fucked, and with each step I take, I spiral further down the hole of memories of my dad, except this time, he’s not here, and the specter of someone who’s just as self-centered and evil is stalking me.
I don’t know what to do, but I know I have to keep going. Desperately I try to remember all the things Dad drilled into my head, remembering snippets here and there as I continue my trek.
It’s pitch black, so I don’t have the sun as a guide, meaning I could be headed in the wrong direction, but I could be a sitting duck if I wait.
Instead, I feel like I’m walking in circles and wasting my energy.
Fuck. Dropping to my knees when I step in something I can’t see, I sob, giving in to the hopelessness. This is all so fucked.
A twig snaps behind me, and I glance around before everything goes dark.
*****
Slowly I come to, my head throbbing painfully. My arms are stretched over my shoulders, and I meet resistance when I try to move them. Tugging, I open my eyes and look around.
I can’t move because my wrists are tied to a cord that stretches above my head, connected to a ring in the dirt.
Wrapping my hands around the cord, I tug and look down, realizing both my hands and feet are bound. I’m staked to the fucking ground.
A small fire burns beside me, heating my right side, but I’m shivering from the chill just the same.
My head aches, a dull throb beating behind my eyes as I fight nausea and take in my surroundings. I’m in a small clearing, nestled between the trees, nothing but the flames of the fire to comfort me.
I’m alone, but for how long?
Shit. Wrenching on my wrist, I wince as pain shoots down my arm, they’re tied tightly, and I’m only chafing them. Experimentally, I tug on my ankles, but they’re bound tightly as well - not only that, but my shoes are missing, my toes icy cold.
Curling them in, I search around wildly, bile roiling in my stomach, which I will back because I’m afraid I might choke on it, only to chuff out a hysterical laugh. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Death by vomit. Take that dick.
On the heels of my pathetic humor comes despair.
I’m trapped and staked to the fucking ground. He’s won. There’s nothing I can do except hope Colt lives. Otherwise, I will have wasted my chance to spend his last moments with him.
After everything we’ve been through, our end comes to this. It’s a painful feeling because I know we had so much more to experience together. I love him, oh, how I love him.
I don’t know how long I lay in the dirt, shaking so badly my muscles are clenching painfully when someone steps into the clearing. With dread, I glance that way and see Tiffany standing at the edge of the trees, looking me over miserably.
She looks terrible. Her hair’s a tangled mess on her head, her eyes bloodshot and droopy, even her face sags, as though she gave up, that or she’s been on a long bender. Pale and shaky, she stands before me with a blank stare.
“Tiffany?”
Snapping out of her daze, she gives me a mournful look and turns, and with confusion, I watch as Teddy rolls into the clearing in his souped-up wheelchair, the high terrain wheels driving over the bumpy ground smoothly.
For a moment, I feel a pulse of hope, but it fades as I search his expression because he’s staring at me with a maniacal smile that withers my heart, leaving a hollow feeling of despair.
“Teddy?” I whisper.
“Surprise!” he says, his lips stretched in a fanatical smile.
“Wh-what?” Every single encounter passes before my eyes as he rolls toward me, and the confusion turns to anger, a lump of burning coal in my chest.
“My dear Finn, you didn’t actually think Nate was smart enough to pull this off? Why that’s actually an insult. He doesn’t know of my genius,” Teddy says with a curl to his lip.
“It’s you?” I ask through dry lips.
“Indeed.”
“But why?”
“Because I want you. I like it. I’m fucked up. Take your pick,” Teddy says with a shrug.
“But we’re friends,” I say, miserably.
He laughs loudly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. There’s something wrong with him. He’s not all there. How did I miss this? How did I not know?
Rolling forward another inch in his souped-up scooter, he stops before me with a glare.
“No, Finn, we’re not friends,” he sneers. “You’re mine, but you just couldn't see me, Finn. All hung up over fucking Colt. What’s he ever done for you? Nothing. He’s a dick!”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pitifully.
“Oh, you will be,” he says confidently, “You see, Finn, I thought you were the one, but you’re nothing but a whore. Do you know what happens to whores, Finn?”
Blankly, I stare at him until he sighs and says, “I punish them.”
My earlier trembling from the cold turns to full-on shivers as I stare at the boy with the cherubic features I loved as my friend, his sneering words circling my brain.
Panting, I tug on my restraints. I can’t get enough air. I’m going to die. I’m going to die at the hands of the one person I thought I could trust. I guess the jokes on me.
Inexplicably, visions of my dad, covered in blood as he looked down at me with feral eyes, dance through my head. He was the one person who should have loved me and protected me. Instead, he knelt before me with his bloody hands, grabbed my cheeks, and said in a voice I’d never heard before and can never forget, “Run.”
“Don’t worry, Finn,” Teddy croons, bringing me back to the present, “this will be as painful as possible.”
Rolling my eyes his way, I stare at him blankly, caught between my past and this painful present. I’m going to die, after all. It’s my destiny as sure as if Dad had done the deed himself.
“Finn, Princess, how does it feel to know I killed your fucking dick? Maybe you can see each other in the afterlife,” he chuckles.