“Missy—come on! Let’s get out of here!” I begged. It dawned on me now would be the opportune time to kick into flight mode, while we actually had a chance to escape.
The guy shoved Anubis, clawing at him, trying to break his hold. A growl escaped him, and by the gurgling cry that followed I could only assume it meant Anubis deepened his bite.
Time. To. Leave.
Again, I tried coaxing Missy backward with more momentum this time.
“Let go of me,” she yelled, jabbing her elbow hard into my side, loosening my hold. She weaseled her way out of my grip, and hurried at them.
“Missy—” I shouted, biting back the string of curses I felt like yelling. I shone the light forward, in their direction, so I could see. The beam caught on the guy as his hand snatched the belt that dangled from Anubis’ collar and yanked.
My best friend was there like the flash, hurling over his legs and coming up beside the hand that held the fabric, instantly stomping down on his arm. She continued, heel shot after heel shot until the guy’s hold broke, only to hop over his torso in the opposite direction to quickly retrieve the makeshift leash he had just dropped. Commanding Anubis to stop, she tugged lightly back on the belt.
I took this moment to rush forward.
“No, run,” she demanded. “We are coming.”
Anubis let up on his bite, jowls dripping with blood, and Melissa repositioned her hand on the leash and did one final swift kick to the side of the man’s face.
Bones crunching, his head whiplashed to the right and then they were running.
I stood there, heart racing, waiting for them, and making sure to keep my attention on the body as they ran with their backs turned to him.
But he remained motionless—the only movement from him was the blood gushing from the canine lacerations that were forming a dark liquid mass around him. Layers of flesh that were gnawed from his face were now just meaty chunks discarded on the ground.
My stomach rose to the back of my throat, and I covered my mouth, turning, running with them as they passed me.
I’ll never know if he died that night—the thought both sickening me and relieving me, but as long as he was behind us, far behind us, I didn’t care.
I wasn’t sure what type of person that made me, and I wasn’t going to try and figure it out. I’ve done worse.
We ran, stumbling on loose rocks, hurdling thorn bushes as best as we could, plowing through ferns, high weeds, and even to my dismay spider webs without stopping. We were going downhill, then suddenly sideways on a diagonal slant as the ground slowly rose upward again.
Anubis was leading the way, and I felt like we were just running wildly. Three blind mice in a never-ending maze. My shoulder and head skimmed against low-hanging branches, my hair catching on twigs and pulling off leaves.
After my third time of running face first into a spider web I finally stopped completely.
“Hold up,” I wheezed, swiping at my face in disgust. I leaned my weight against the tree opposite of the mangled web that remained. My phone was burning my palm, no doubt on verge of overheating or my luck, catching fire against my skin, and my other hand was swelling double in size, turning purple across my knuckles.
I was in pain.
Not to mention, I was drenched in sweat and itchy. I was itchy all over; it was taking everything in me not to scratch at my skin.
The straps of the book bag I was carrying dug into my shoulders, uncomfortably, and had created an awkward position for me against the bark, so I slid it off my arms, dropping it to my feet. That action alone made me feel so much better.
Anubis and Missy had halted about thirty feet ahead of me, but were turning to face me now. Missy was struggling to catch her own breath. Anubis seemed to be the only one out of the three of us that didn’t look like he was about to keel over. Sure his tongue was hanging out his panting mouth, but he still had energy.
He tugged to keep moving, only further proving that. Dried blood stained his snout, the front of his chest and his yellow paws, easily igniting flashbacks of the whole incident, keeping me on edge.
Turning my hand, I scanned the area around us, hoping nothing—or no one—was lurking in the shadows. I didn’t see or hear any footsteps, but wasn’t that how predators hunted—unseen, unheard until pouncing onto their oblivious prey?
The thought made me swallow nervously. I continued to scan the spaces between the trees with light.
“What are we doing? How do we even know Anubis is still leading us to Zac and Margeaux?”
There were so many trees around us—we were right smack in the middle of nowhere, and I hadn’t a clue how we even got there.
I completely understood now why Hansel and Gretel always left breadcrumbs in the fairy tales.
“I don’t even know how to get back to my car,” I continued. “It’s not like we stuck to one trail.”
“Uh—” Her hesitation was proof she may have been regretting her decision, but she’d never admit that.
I stared at the dog. “Last time he was pulling at the belt like that, a man was about to attack us.” Stepping away from the tree, I once again surveyed the woods, slowly.
“Yeah, but we mistook his barking for a deer,” she pressed. “That was our mistake. He was protecting us.”
I know very well it could have just been us mistaking him, but I wasn’t so sure, just like I wasn’t so sure he knew where his owners were.
“It takes a lot of training to pick up scent trails. Isn’t that what Jason said last time when we were looking for Spencer, when you mentioned using Duke to find him?”
I chose my next words cautiously. “How do you know he knows what he’s doing?”
“Try having some faith in him, will ya.” Her tone hardened slightly. “Dogs mark trees all the time and these people aren’t just people they are his people. He knows their scents and dogs are protective by nature.”
Anubis barked, snagging harder on the belt. “He really wants to keep moving.”
I flashed the light back to him, looking at him pulling forward, looking impatient. I considered him, and how we currently ran, taking note that somewhere along the way we started to shift directions. Were we heading back the other way now? Was he leading us in a very large loop?
Staring momentarily at his blood-stained face, I wished more than ever that dogs could talk.
Have some faith, will ya! Missy’s words replayed in my head.
Okay.
Switching the phone into my swollen hand temporary, I grimaced as I reached down, lugging my back pack up, pulling it onto my shoulders again. Then, once both straps were untwisted and settled on my shoulders, I switched my phone back to my left hand.
“Don’t let us down,” I mumbled, stepping up beside them. Missy didn’t hear me, but I hope Anubis did.
18
Weeds tickled at my shins as I stomped heavy-footed through a cluster of them. Instead of lighting the way as far as I could see as usual when I trekked through brush like this, I always held the phone down, highlighting the greenery, hoping I could see the ground I was stepping on.
Most of the time it didn’t make a difference, I still saw nothing, like now.
“If I step on a rattlesnake, I’m killing you before I die,” I grumbled, my nerves causing what I feared would become a permanent shake throughout my limbs.
Missy laughed uncomfortably beside me, her own phone leveled at the ground. Guess she was thinking the same thing.
“I am being ser—” My phone suddenly started ringing.
Shocked, I instinctively tried to answer it, momentarily fumbling it in my grip. I quickly recovered, answering it.
“Hello?” I forgot to look at the number first.
There was coughing. “Where are you guys?”
Oh crap. Spence.
Words left me. “Uh—” Rocking back onto my heels, I tried to regain composure, while still trying to wrap my head around the fact I had service in the first place.
> Now my phone worked. Of course.
“We’re—” I could hear his labored breathing. Pivoting toward Missy, I half-shrugged, half-stalled.
Another cough. “Well?”
Then, then there was just silence.
“Spencer?” I said, furrowing my brow. I waited, listening. Nothing.
Pulling the phone away from my ear, I glanced down.
No service.
Saved by the bell—er, dead zone.
Turning back to my right, I kept my eyes on my screen, watching my bars flicker to one, then to none. Moving a few inches over, it went from zero to suddenly two. I moved another inch. Bam. Back to none.
I retracted my step, pausing at the two bars.
“Spencer?” Missy had been spazing since the moment I picked it up. “That was Spence? What did he say? Is he okay? I mean, if he’s calling us he’s got to be okay, right?” By okay, she meant not a flesh-eating zombie wannabe, as she would call it.
“I don’t know—” I stood still like a statue, seeing if the bars would move or remain. “He didn’t say much, but he obviously knows we are missing.”
“Well yeah, that is pretty obvious. We aren’t sitting beside his bed anymore.”
I rolled my eyes, and lifted my hand cautiously. The bars flickered up and down, but I still had decent enough service.
My heart beat with a new sense of anxiousness. A good kind. “I have service!” Oh, the possibilities this opened up for us.
Except, the longer I stood there, I just couldn’t bring myself to dial a number.
Not Spencer’s
Not my parents’.
Not even Jason’s.
And I wasn’t sure why.
“Are you going to call him back?” Missy asked, impatiently.
I lowered my hand, my excitement deflating and glanced at my best friend. “No… I don’t know…I think I’m scared too.”
Without my Flashlight app on, and the only light immediately around me being the dim glow of my cell phone screen, I realized how bad it will be when our batteries finally die, also how impossible getting anywhere would be, especially if we didn’t get on an actual trail soon. It dawned on me maybe that’s what happened to Zac and Margeaux, they went off the beaten path.
I started strolling through my call log, not really recognizing any of the recent missed numbers. Not even the number Spencer just called from. Guess it was the hospital line.
“What do you think? Should I?” I was leaving the decision up to Missy.
My phone was lit with the voicemail box, but I continued to ignore it.
After about a minute of deliberation, she finally said, “Call…make sure he’s okay.”
Nodding, I highlighted the last received number. “And if he asks where we are again?”
“Tell him we are home…we’ll visit tomorrow.” A pause. “Or better yet…if possible, just change the subject.”
“Okay.” I hit call and waited for him to pick up.
The line kept ringing. I tapped my fingers against the back of the phone. After about six rings, a guy answered.
“Hello?”
Not Spencer.
I quickly hung up.
“Uh… that was weird. Someone else answered.”
“His dad?” Missy asked.
I hadn’t considered that. “Yeah, maybe.” In that case, it was a good thing I disconnected.
I, once again, looked at my voicemail box, debating on listening to them, at the same moment Anubis barked.
“He’s getting restless again,” She sighed. “We need to keep moving. In case they are hurt.”
“Yeah.” I guess I will listen later. “In that case, maybe I should call for help first.”
“And what will you tell them?” Missy countered. “You don’t know where they are, hell, we don’t even know where we are.”
“No,” I agreed, hesitantly. “But I know someone that might.”
I scrolled my call log one more time, until I highlighted the number, pushing it. Then I stood there waiting, fingers crossed, for Jason to answer his phone.
“Hello?”
My heart jumped to my throat. “Jason. It’s me, I—”
“Hello? Hello?”
The line went dead.
Cursing, I tried again. It went right to voicemail.
Missy was asking repeatedly why I was calling him, but I just ignored her, hung up and tried him one more time.
Truth was we were being idiots. No one knew we were out here, we had no clue where we were going or what we were heading into, or how to get back. I might not have been able to provide someone with our exact location, or Zac and Margeaux’s, but at least I knew Jason was going out in the woods—if he wasn’t already in them—and he’d be with state troopers and possibly more government authorities. Our best bet at survival was once again relying on my boyfriend, exactly what he didn’t want us to do.
If I could think of another option, I’d do that instead, but I couldn’t.
Also, I wanted to tell him I loved him—you know, just in case I never got the chance to.
This time when the voicemail came on, I left a lengthy message.
“Jason, hey it’s me. Look, I think that the couple from earlier with the golden lab is hurt somewhere on the mountain. We spotted the dog on the way home and—well, long story short, we are now kind of lost on the mountain too. I’m sorry—okay—I know this was a dumb idea, but Missy’s positive the dog is leading us to them. I’m just not sure we’re going to make it.”
My voice started to break. “Our phone batteries are dying—we are going to be out of light soon— and they are here, you know, them. We got away once—but I think my hand is broken and we got off trail.”
A pause, as my eyes started to sting. “I’m scared—I didn’t know what else to do. I just figured someone should know. Oh—and I love you too.”
I hung up, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
I expected Missy to be yelling at me, but instead, she had shut up as I started talking. And once I hung up, she came right up beside me, shining her light at me.
“You think your hand is broken?” I forgot I never mentioned it. “Are you in a lot of pain? Can you move your fingers? Let me see.”
She moved the light onto my knuckles. “Shit, Dee, that looks bad.”
I shrugged it off. “It will heal.”
“Can you make a fist?”
“I can, but I really don’t want to because it hurts. Let’s just go, okay?”
She nodded and turned away from me, but I caught a glimpse of the concern on her face. If only she could see her own face, I thought. The scratch on her chin was still pretty raw.
We slowly started to trek forward again. But this time, as we walked, I couldn’t help but remember the one simple rule I learned from my father when I used to go hiking with him as a kid—if you are ever lost in the woods, just sit down, don’t move. Call for help if you can, and let help come to you.
Sorry, Dad. Your baby girl isn’t listening.
Man, I really hoped this dog knew where the hell he was going.
19
We had gone maybe ten minutes more, tops. I was in the process of maneuvering around a muddy puddle and a shin-high plant that closely resembled poison ivy, when my light started to flicker.
I cursed. Three seconds later my phone went dead.
That’s it. I had a three second warning to prepare myself for the intimidating darkness that was about to hungrily rush in on me. Stumbling on soggy ground, I tried really hard not to move right. Right was where the possible poisonous plant was.
I was already itchy enough. If I hadn’t known they were bug bites on my legs, I’d be freaking out that I was covered in poison ivy already. I didn’t want to die with a puss-filled rash on my body. Not that bug bites were any better.
The fleeting thought of mosquitos popped back into my head, and my heart, if possible, started pounding even louder in my chest.
I had to hav
e at least twenty mosquito bites.
Missy was ahead of me. Her cell phone light directed ahead of her, illuminating the dog. It was so very, very dark near me. I started panicking.
My brain reminding me it only took one mosquito bite to turn Buck. No. No, remember they treated, it’s safe now, my rational side said. You’re fine.
My irrational side laughed sardonically. Yeah, they thought they treated the infected people too, didn’t they?
“Missy!” I hollered spastically, realizing it was too late to collect my cool and remain level-headed. The longer I stood still, the darker I felt it was getting, probably because she was getting further away.
“What’s the—” She stopped, half-spinning, the light beam turning with her. No doubt she quickly realized the problem. I mean, I was standing in pitch black after all.
“How much juice do you have left in that thing?” I whined, my eyes drawn to her cell phone light like the very insects around us.
“I don’t know…hold up.” She momentarily shut her app off to check, and the light shrunk in toward her so fast she was now only a glimpse of a silhouette.
There was too long of a pause.
“How much?” I asked again, my voice getting more hysterical.
She grumbled something under her breath. She was always doing that. “Not much, okay.”
“How much?” I wasn’t in the mood for evasiveness.
“Ten percent, alright. Ten…freaking…percent. Ohmigod.” The severity of the situation started to hit her.
Ohmigod was right. We were so screwed. And just like in every situation that causes panic, my best friend suddenly put everything on my plate. “Dee, what do we do? What do we do? Ohmigod. Hurry up, think of something.”
I guess this would be a bad time to remind her I never wanted to follow this dog in the first place?
Inhaling and exhaling slowly once again, I tried to calm my nerves enough to come up with a plan.
Think dammit.
We needed to conserve our light, but we needed light. Just using our cell phone screen wouldn’t be enough for both of us to see, but if we continued using the flashlight app it would deplete the battery too quickly. However, it was too dangerous out here not to use it.
Dead Friends Series (Book 2): Dead Friends Running Page 10