Since we’d all been drilled in wilderness safety from the time we were little kids, our families knew where we’d be hiking. We’d sent them the GPS coordinates of the trailhead where we’d parked, and planned to send them the coords for the meadow as well. It was worth an extra minute of caution to avoid becoming the next reason the U.S Forest Rangers and local volunteer SAR crews had to be sent out.
A couple of hours and a considerable increase in elevation into our hike, we turned off the main trail onto a faint game trail. If you weren’t watching carefully, you’d miss the subtle indicators. We didn’t precisely discourage tourists from finding the meadow…but we didn’t encourage them, either.
About fifteen minutes after we’d turned onto the game trail, we broke through the trees and scrub brush that ringed the meadow. The grass was still dew-covered although it was drying in the sunlight. We walked quietly, our hiking boots making faint shshing sounds in the wet grass as we headed toward the widest part of the meadow.
By unspoken mutual agreement, we stopped on a slight knoll. It gave us great line-of-sight all around, which was ideal for Becks’ longer-range photos. We texted the GPS coordinates to our parents, then unstrapped our rolled-up ground tarps from our backpacks. We spread the tarps on the grass before shrugging out of our packs and setting them down on the tarps as anchors. It wasn’t windy at the moment, but that could change at any time.
I stretched, seeing Sam and Becks do the same before I closed my eyes and turned my face upward, enjoying the warmth of the sun against my skin. Finishing my stretch, I opened my eyes and folded down into a cross-legged position on my tarp. Sam sprawled out on his an arm’s length away on my right. Becks had her camera in hand and was standing next to hers, which was down by Sam’s and my feet, forming the base of a rough triangle. It was the best formation for us to talk and still keep an eye on our surroundings.
I looked in the direction Becks was focused on and caught a quick white flash through a small opening in the brush at the edge of the meadow just as I heard the camera’s shutter clicking rapidly. A split second later I saw a deer leap past the opening and deeper into the trees. Becks lowered her camera and plopped down on her tarp.
“Did you get it?” I was curious, since it had been well-hidden before it moved, then gone before you could even say, “Deer!”
Becks shook her head. “I doubt it. I mean, I probably caught something, but I doubt it’s clear. Suckers are just too damn quick when they get startled like that. The brush camouflaging it didn’t help.”
I chuckled. “Maybe next time one will oblige you by coming out into the meadow.”
“That would be mighty nice of it,” Becks replied straight-faced, knowing I was teasing while being serious about wanting that kind of opportunity for her.
Sam’s laughter joined ours as Becks set her camera down close at hand and laid on her back to gaze at the blue sky.
We were quiet for a while, each absorbed in our thoughts and enjoying the peaceful setting. The only sounds were the whistling moans of the intermittent breeze that rippled the grass around us, the sporadic piercing calls of the birds flying overhead, our rhythmic breathing, and the occasional scuff of our clothes or shoes against a tarp.
Eventually Sam’s deep baritone broke the quiet. “Penny for your thoughts, Sin.”
I spoke lazily. “Not sure they’re worth even that much, Sam. I wasn’t really thinking of anything.”
“No? I figured your mind was probably racing.”
Although he spoke lightly, there was truth in his words. My mind usually was going ninety miles an hour in several different directions.
“Touché. But no, not right now.”
“Well, carry on.” His smile was evident in his voice. “Becks, how about you? Any thoughts worth a penny?”
“Not a one, Sam.” Her amusement came through clearly in her reply. “How about you? I mean, since you’re asking…” Her unspoken implication was clear.
He laughed. “Guilty as charged. Want to go wading in the stream?”
Now that my attention was firmly back in the here-and-now, I realized the temperature had climbed and it was muggy as hell. My clothes stuck to me as I shifted and stood up.
“Sounds good to me.” My voice was somewhat breathy since I was bent over rolling up my tarp when I replied. “Becks? You in?”
“You bet,” came her quick response. “I feel like I’m in a steam room right now. That cold water will feel great.”
Chapter Two
I finished strapping my tarp to my backpack and swung the bag onto my shoulder. Becks and Sam did the same, then we headed toward the other end of the meadow at a steady pace. Becks snapped some pictures during our short trip. I had no idea how she kept the camera steady, but I’d seen some of the raw photos she’d captured during previous hikes and they were crystal-clear.
It took us about fifteen minutes to get to the stream, and by that time we were sodden with sweat. After dropping our packs on the grass near the bank, we took off our hiking boots and socks. We tucked the socks inside the boots and set them neatly beside our respective packs, ready to grab at a moment’s notice.
Sam also stripped off his t-shirt before heading down a sandy washout to the clear water burbling over the streambed. The sun gleamed on his tanned, sweat-covered skin. Becks and I sighed wistfully, wishing we could ditch our shirts too, but although we always carried a towel apiece in our bags neither of us had packed a swimsuit.
A sudden yelp followed by a string of creative language had Becks and me doubled over laughing until we cried. Apparently, Sam had waded straight into the knee-deep water, discovering that it was still limb-numbingly cold in spite of the week-long heat wave we’d been in.
“Go ahead, laugh it up,” he growled. “Payback will be sweet.”
Becks and I traded mischievous smiles before walking down the washout into the water. The cold was a shock, but it didn’t stop us as we flanked Sam and splashed him.
He yelped again, then retaliated. All of us were careful to keep the splashing minimal. Even though it was hot, it was too muggy for our clothes to dry if we got soaked. Wet clothes would mean chafed skin and an uncomfortable hike back; something we wanted to avoid.
We splashed around for a while, seeing who could send water flying the farthest and generally having fun. Eventually we grew tired and climbed some rocks protruding from the grassy bank, bypassing the washout to keep our feet as dirt-free as possible. All three of us grabbed our tarps, spread them on the grass, and laid down on them, using our packs as headrests.
I was in that semi-aware state where you’re halfway between waking and sleeping when I heard the shutter on Becks’ camera go off. I opened my eyes but stayed still, knowing that movement was likely to spook whatever creature she was photographing. The shutter sounds stopped and I heard her inhale before she spoke quietly, her voice tense and tightly controlled.
“Sin. Sam. Turn your heads slowly to the left.”
I did as she asked and Sam did the same. Then I gulped, my attention riveted on the huge bull moose that was standing about fifty feet away, watching us as intently as we were watching it.
Chapter Three
I don’t know if you’re familiar with moose, but when I say “huge,” I’m referring to an adult bull moose that weighed somewhere around twelve hundred pounds and stood maybe six feet tall at the shoulder. Not his back or his head, his shoulder. This guy would make a full-size jacked-up pickup truck look small—and if it came to an altercation between the two, the moose would win.
As we watched—carefully, since animals often perceive focused attention as a threat—we tried to keep calm, although it wasn’t working very well. Mr. Moose probably knew exactly how scared we were since moose have excellent senses of smell and hearing. Their vision isn’t great; they’re near-sighted critters with binocular vision, which means they need to be close to see things clearly, but something directly in front of them is in a quasi-blind spot if it’s too clo
se.
I’m not sure what started the chain of events, but the next thing I knew, Mr. Moose was pacing toward us, head and antlers starting to lower. The three of us kind of lost our heads. Wilderness-savvy or not, when something that big and unpredictable comes at you, “fight or flight” kicks in hard. Becks and Sam leaped to their feet and turned into world-class barefoot sprinters. I made it to my feet, my hand clutching my nana’s old medallion—then froze.
It wasn’t due to fright. My body shook with cold before getting so frigid I couldn’t shake anymore. Ice crystals were rapidly building in layers on my shirt. I suspected that was happening all over my body, but I couldn’t look. My attention was focused on Mr. Moose, who’d come even closer and was snorting at me.
I was screaming in my head, wanting to run. Wanting Mr. Moose to get the hell away from me. Anything to get out of this potentially deadly situation. Guess I should’ve been a bit more careful with my wishes, because the next thing I knew, everything around me was icing over. Not pretty sparkling frost, but true ice. The meadow, the stream, the trees, the rocks…and me. Even Mr. Moose was growing small icicles on his hairy hide.
My eyes widened, and my screams finally broke free. Bad move on my part, because they upset Mr. Moose even more. I’m pretty sure I saw my life flash before my eyes in that FML moment, then the most astonishing thing happened: a wave of ice built a thick barrier between us even as a layer covered my mouth and silenced my screaming.
Fraught moments passed as I imitated an ice-covered statue while waiting for Mr. Moose to leave. I couldn’t move or speak; I couldn’t even feel my body. I wondered if Mr. Moose would leave before I died of hypothermia.
A sudden crack! on the other side of the meadow drew Mr. Moose’s attention and he swung his head around to look, then turned and started ambling in the direction of the noise. I had no idea what it was or why it so readily gained his attention, but I wasn’t going to argue. I still had a huge dilemma to figure out.
Chapter Four
Becks and Sam moved warily back toward me, slipping and sliding as they crossed the ice-covered ground. They stopped a good distance away.
“Sin? What’s going on?”
Sam snorted at Becks’ question. “Seems pretty obvious, Becks. Magic.”
I’d have laughed out loud if I could’ve since Sam’s response was so close to the one running through my head.
“Ok, Sin, Mr. Moose is off on his next adventure. It’s safe to let the ice melt. Can you calm down enough to do that?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Hey, now. I’m not a magic user, but I know some of the principles. Seriously, if you can calm your mind, your emotions will settle too. Once they do, the magic should fade.”
Hmm. He had a point. Since none of this was under my conscious control, emotions had to be driving it—which meant I needed to calm the hell down before things turned dire. Or more dire than they already were, since I wasn’t confident I could thaw myself before freezing to death.
Sam must’ve figured out some of what was going through my head.
“You can do this, Sin. Breathe with me. Focus on matching my breathing, nothing else. Inhale, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Exhale, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”
He led me through that measured breathing for what seemed like hours, but in reality wasn’t that long. As I settled into the rhythm, my mind and emotions quieted—and the ice covering my mouth melted. I nearly shouted for joy but caught myself just in time.
“That’s it, Sin. Keep breathing, nice and even. You’re doing great.”
Buoyed by that sign of success, I stuck with the measured breathing but added a thought—a wish, really—timed to my exhalations. I want to be warm. I kept repeating it, willing something to happen.
The next thing I knew, ice cracked off me in some places while streams of water poured off others. As soon as the ice locking me in place released its grip, I collapsed to the ground, exhausted and shivering uncontrollably.
“Sin!” Becks yelled, her feet going every which way as she tried to race toward me. One part of my mind noted the hilarity of my normally-graceful friend flailing like a hapless contestant on Spike TV’s Most Extreme Elimination Challenge, but I appreciated her attempt to reach me.
“Keep breathing, Sin. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.” Sam’s deep voice washed over me as he resumed counting while slowly and carefully working his way toward me. Or rather, toward our backpacks, I realized as I saw him angle slightly to my left.
By now there were large puddles everywhere. Mist—or was it fog? I couldn’t remember the difference—was rising around us as melting ice met the hot, humid air. It was difficult to see the shaking hand I managed to raise in front of my face, let alone Becks or Sam.
“You’re doing great, Sin.”
Sam’s voice was my anchor as I kept breathing and wishing…willing the ice to melt faster so I could be warm again.
“Becks, you’ll need to carry your pack and Sin’s plus your hiking boots until we get to drier ground. I’ll get my pack, boots, and Sin, once she’s finished de-icing. She won’t be able to walk while she’s shaking like that.” There was a note of humor in his voice, even though he was completely serious.
“Hardy-har-har,” I managed to get out through chattering teeth.
When a sudden breeze shredded the fog, I saw that the ice in the meadow and trees had melted, creating a large water-logged area. We were in for a wet slog out, no matter which way we went.
The sound of splashing water drew my attention. When I glanced over at the stream, I was shocked to see it running considerably lower than when we’d played in it earlier. The splashing was due to several mini-streams now draining into it from the over-saturated ground.
“Yep, that’s due to your ice-capades. I suspect you also pulled water from the natural pool a little further upstream. Otherwise this part would be dry.” Sam spoke easily, although I knew he was still concerned.
Becks spoke up several minutes later. “Looks like you’re pretty well de-iced now. So’s the ground in your immediate vicinity, as far as I can tell.”
Sam assessed me. “Yep, she’s right. Ready to get out of this waterpark?”
I snorted, although it was hard to tell given my chattering teeth. “Only you, Sam,” I managed to get out.
He flashed a mischievous grin while shrugging into his pack. “Someone’s gotta keep you entertained and calm. Might as well be me.”
Becks laughed as Sam bent down and scooped me up.
“This isn’t going to be comfortable, Sin, but it’s the least taxing way to carry you.” He swung me into a fireman’s carry and started off, bare feet sloshing through the watery meadow.
Oof. I grunted as I landed on his shoulder. He was right: it wasn’t comfortable, but it was the best way we had to get me to dry ground since I was still shaking too much to stand up and walk.
Chapter Five
Becks led the way, taking advantage of high spots while heading toward the game trail that would lead us back to the main hiking trail. The good news was, the closer we got, the drier the ground was.
Sam stopped on a hillock at the edge of the meadow and set me down on the grass before shrugging off his pack.
“Becks, get the towel, sweatshirt, and extra pair of socks from Sin’s pack. Get the towel from yours as well. Sin, we need to get you toweled off and into dry clothes.” He was rummaging in his pack as he spoke, pulling out a towel, a sweatshirt, and a pair of gym shorts with a drawstring waist. “Thank God the packs are waterproof.”
“I-I d-d-d-d-don’t k-k-kn-know if I-I c-c-can—”
“We’ll do all the work,” he cut in. “You don’t need to do anything.”
I squeaked. There was no other word for it. Ms. “Nothing fazes me when it comes to guys” totally squeaked like a mouse at hearing him say they’d undress and re-dress me. Then I blushed.
Becks and Sam were both kind enough to resist teasing me,
although I could see their lips twitching as they held back their laughter.
“All right, Becks, here we go. I’ll hold the towel while you get her wet clothes off. All of them; she’s too cold to get warm otherwise.” With that, he shook the towel to its full length and gazed into the distance, steadfastly not looking at me while Becks got to work.
It felt odd to be handled like a doll while someone else preserved my modesty, and I didn’t want to experience it again any time soon. I was grateful that Becks and Sam did what needed to be done, though, because I was in no shape to do it myself. Faster than I thought possible, Becks had me stripped, dried, and redressed.
“Ok, Sam, she’s decent.” Becks went to work undoing my braid and towel-drying my long, thick hair. “Ugh. Do you have a comb or brush in your pack, Sin?”
I nodded and gestured weakly at its front pocket.
Sam unzipped it and handed Becks my comb.
“Thanks.” She started working it through the tangles while Sam outlined a plan for us to get out of here.
“I can carry you for a little while, Sin, but the longer I do, the greater the risk of injury. Plus, you won’t warm up as fast. We need to get you walking. I’m also concerned about the aftereffects of using magic for the first time. You should be checked by a medic as quickly as possible.” He paused, thinking. “I think we should contact the Rangers and have them meet us on the main trail in a UTV. If I recall correctly, this is the part of the meadow where I have just enough signal to punch a short call through. Otherwise, it’ll have to be a text. I also think we should notify our parents that there’s been an incident.”
I grimaced but nodded. Becks agreed as well.
Sam grabbed his cell phone and stepped a few paces away, until he got enough bars for a quick call to go through. I closed my eyes, soaking up the sun’s warmth while he spoke to someone, presumably a Ranger, before signing off. Then I heard him swear. I opened my eyes and saw his thumbs flying over his phone screen.
Tales from the Oriceran Universe: Fans Write For The Fans: Volume 1 (Oriceran Fans Write For the Fans) Page 4