by Emily Asad
Chapter 10: Nightfall
After that, it was slow going. Very slow. We wanted to reach Bear Ridge by nightfall, but my throbbing ankle forced us to hobble along. By Tony’s reckoning, we only did fifteen miles that day, and most of it was the progress we made before my accident.
We decided not to chance hiking after dark, so when the sun began to set, we found a flat patch with a mattress of thick grass to pitch our tent on. It was a big improvement over last night’s pebbly, twiggy ground. We had to use the ring-saw again to hack logs for the fire. I even took a few shots at the flint-and-striker, though Tony was the one who got the flames started.
I felt useless lying there propped up against a log, my right leg stiffly out in front of me. “Is there anything I can do to help?” I kept asking, but he kept telling me to rest. I got to babysit the fire so he could gather enough firewood for the night, but he set up the tent.
When he finally joined me, he sat down and folded his arms and looked up at the white stars against the black night sky. “What a day.”
“We’re still alive,” I said. “That’s something.”
He held up the last power bar. “Dinner?”
I actually started to drool when I saw it. Even so, I shook my head. “That’s the last food we have, and we already had one each today. Let’s just drink a water and be done.”
He looked at me with respect in his eyes. “At least take the aspirin, so you’ll sleep tonight.”
I’d been thinking about that for the past several hours. “I’m going to save them for tomorrow. I don’t think I’ll be able to walk without some help.”
“I wish I knew herbal medicine,” he sighed. “I’d pluck some plants, boil them down, and make a soothing poultice. They do it all the time in camp stories.”
“With your luck, you’d probably dose me with poison ivy or something. Thanks, but I’ll suffer in peace.”
“I wish we’d only eaten one of those Army meals last night, instead of both. We’re in for a hungry day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, but people can make it for a few days without food. We’ll be fine. It’s the water I’m more worried about. And the mosquito repellent - we’re almost out of that, too.”
The orange firelight bounced off his mischievous smile. “Which will be worse, you think? The mosquitoes or the hunger?”
I smiled back at him. “The mosquitoes, of course.”
He started a reply, but the expression on his face changed before he said it. Instead, he kept staring at me.
I grew uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I got lucky,” he said, his voice husky.
“For what?”
“For having you here. Every minute Drosnin chases me could be my last, so I’ve learned to live each day the best I can. If these are to be my last days, then I’m glad I got to share them with someone so pretty. And smart. And tough.”
“Oh, please,” I said, rolling my eyes in embarrassment. “You’re so wishy-washy. One minute you’re talking like we’re going to make it after all, and the next minute you sound like we’re heading for certain death. Make up your mind or I’m going to have to start calling you Wishy-Washy Willy.”
“My folks call me Cat,” he said.
“As in here, kitty, kitty?”
“It was given to me by my charge officer’s boss. He’s the one who arranges where we live and how long we stay. Remember I told you how there are leaks in the department? Well, cats have nine lives.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “How many have you used up so far?”
“Counting yesterday? Three, counting the plane crash. Four counting the escape from that bear cage.”
“Oh, good. Then you still have five left. That makes me feel better.” I threw a stick into the fire. It landed harder than I calculated and sent up a shower of orange and yellow sparks into the night air.
“Whoa, careful,” Tony said. “This forest’s so dry that just one of those could cause some serious trouble.”
“If Drosnin’s so dangerous, why does your family want to testify? I mean, if you don’t go to court, you’re not a threat to him, right?”
“He’d find us either way. At least in the protection program, we have a chance of survival. I mean, look at what he’s done already - and he’s sitting behind bars as we speak! If that’s not power, I don’t know what is.”
He looked so sad, I wanted to comfort him somehow. But what was I supposed to say? His situation was so beyond me that anything would have sounded trite. “Guess that makes it hard to plan for the future, huh?”
“I plan anyway.”
We both drifted into our own little worlds, me thinking about the mess with my folks and him poking at the fire. Last night, the silence would have made me uncomfortable, and I would have tried to fill it with small talk. Tonight was different. In just one day, I’d managed to make a good friend - someone with as many nerd facts as me, someone who appreciated nature like me, and someone with a great sense of humor. I marveled at the irony of finding a friend out in the middle of nowhere.
We finished our water packets, which Tony collected and stuffed into his pouch. Then he helped me hop over to the tent. It was such a relief to stretch out flat and just lay there. When he stretched along side me, however, I tensed up again. There was something powerful about being so near him, something that made me want to cross the line between being friends and being closer. All I could think about was Mom and Dad, and how they ended up so miserable. A few years before their divorce, I promised myself that I wouldn’t fall in love until it was practical, but how could love be so scientific and specifically timed? Not that I was looking for a guy, anyway, but I was sure looking at him now. Still, fifteen was too young to think about forever. Maybe for other girls it was fine, but for me it was not. I decided to padlock my heart for now. As much as I wanted him to hold me in his strong arms again, I didn’t think it would be appropriate. I searched my brain for an excuse to let him know - tactfully - that I didn’t want a repeat of last night. I gathered my long hair into a braid so it wouldn’t flip all over the place. It was getting greasy. “I need a shower,” I murmured.
“You smell fine,” he said.
“Did you know that men have more hair in their nose than women,” I said, “which means they can’t smell as much or as well?”
“Which is probably why you smell so good to me.”
“Well, your armpits are nasty, so stay on your side tonight.”
He laughed. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
There were no helicopters that night.
We ended up snuggling anyway.