One Was Lost(14)

I hope no one answers. Emily looks down. I think she wants us to say no. She wants all three of them to be OK, but she saw the number three in the ground and the abandoned tents. She heard the silence. Emily’s quiet because she knows better. And my stomach sinks because I know better too.

“I think we’re back to my plan of running,” Lucas says.

Jude nods. “I’m in. But it’s three more days on the trail, right? We’ve got zero supplies. We won’t make it.”

“We cut north,” Lucas says.

“Why north?”

He points through the trees. “There’s a state route north of here. It’s the road we took when we dropped off Ms. Brighton’s car at the end point. The trail we’re on runs in the same general east-west direction, but we’re way south of the road now. If we stay on the trail, we’ll head even farther south to hit that waterfall Mr. Walker was talking about. But if we cut north through the forest, we’ll get back to the road faster.”

“Is anyone here remembering that there is a fifth member to our group? One who isn’t up for cutting north or walking at all?” My voice is too loud, so we all fall silent. I shift my feet and hear wind in the leaves and birds chittering in the scatter of branches overhead. After a minute of nothing that sounds like a serial killer approaching, I lick my lips and continue. “Mr. Walker is still sick. We can’t leave him.”

“We’ll send help when we’re safe,” Jude says. “If someone’s out here cutting off fingers, I’m not going to sacrifice myself for a guy who goes out of his way to avoid touching my desk.”

I tense at that, trying to think back to the class we share. Does Mr. Walker do that? I don’t think I ever paid attention. Jude was a blur in a seat behind me. That prodigy kid from Columbus with perfect skin, solid grades, and two well-dressed fathers.

“OK, but he knows this land better than anyone,” I say. “He’s the one who got the permits for us to hike this old trail, right?”

Jude says, “Yeah, the remote factor he sold us on feels really helpful right now.”

“We should have just done the Appalachian Trail,” Lucas says. “This shit would not be going down there. There’d be other hikers.”

“It doesn’t matter what we should have done,” Emily says. “What matters is what we did do and what we do now.”

“If we run, we could get lost,” I point out. “Plus, won’t there be rescue groups coming? In the event of an emergency, Mr. Walker and Ms. Brighton both told us to stay put.”

“They also said to put out a distress call on one of our phones or the GPS,” Jude says. “We can’t do that because we were robbed and attacked. This isn’t what they had in mind when we talked emergencies, Sera.”

“But if we don’t check in, they’ll come looking for us,” I reason.

“When, Sera?” Lucas asks. “How many hours until that happens? How many more until they manage to find us?”

Jude pushes his hair back from his forehead. “And how do we know that whoever this is didn’t take our GPS? They could be checking in, pretending everything’s right as rain.”

I swallow, and it burns all the way down.

“I see three options.” Lucas lifts his chin. He looks like he’s trying to be older than he is, and I’m annoyed. “The river is still too high to cross without the bridge. We could walk along the water, hoping to find a bridge or a shallow spot, something to get us back on the other side, then we could follow the trail back to where we left Mr. Walker’s van. We’d have water at least.”

“It’s at least a two-day walk. And unfiltered river water?” Jude looks like Lucas offered him a bowl of maggots. “Next option?”

“We stay on the path and hike like hell toward the finish line. Ms. Brighton left her hippy-mobile there, right?”

“Yes,” I say, remembering my ride down in the passenger seat. The backseat was littered with spirituality books, and a dream catcher dangled from the rearview mirror, but she had the greatest playlist of indie music, stuff I’d never heard. My next breath is harder to pull.

“It’s supposed to be three more days of hiking to our end point,” Jude says. “And we don’t have water. I’m thirsty as hell.”

“Me too,” I admit, hoping option three is to head back to camp.

Lucas scuffs the ground with his boot. “Option three is to cut through the woods like I said. It’s a fairly straight road. I’m not a Boy Scout or whatever, but I know how to find north. I saw it on the map, so I know it can’t be that far. We’ll intersect it.”

“And I should trust you on this why?” Jude asks, stepping forward. “Because of your exemplary academic record?”

“Look at how many shits I don’t give about who you decide to trust,” Lucas says. “The road and the trail both head east to west. I don’t know exactly how far apart they are, but the road is north, and cutting through the woods means we aren’t getting sidetracked on the trail for sightseeing stuff. It looked close on the map.”

Jude scoffs.

“I think we should go back to camp,” Emily says. “Help will come.”

“She’s right,” I say, shoulders hunched. “My dad…” I swallow back a sudden push of tears. God, my dad. It was hard for him to even sign the permission slip. I’m sure he’s watching every checkin. No way would he sit by for eight or ten hours with no word. “My dad would call for help. I’m all he’s got.”