Stranded (7 page)

*  *  *

We found Chloe by herself, crying.

At first I thought the moaning was the wind. Or the gasping we made as we ran, trying to stay ahead of the fire. We cut strange paths through the trees, trying to estimate the direction, sometimes stopping and turning so we kept the fire at our backs.

The moaning rose and fell, depending on the direction we moved through the trees. But one thing became certain—it was getting louder. It took me a few minutes to realize the noise was coming from a person. At least, I hoped it was a person.

“Chloe?” I threw my arm back, but Oscar was right behind me, and I hit him in the chest.

“Ow!”

“Shh.” I put my finger to my lips, which was pointless. Oscar couldn't see me. I could barely see my hand in front of my face. “Listen.”

Nothing.
Chloe was ahead of us. But did she go the same way?

“I don't hear anything.”

“Wait.”

The sound came again. A muffled sob.

“Chloe?” I wasn't shouting, because I was afraid of waking something up, which was ridiculous.
Stop watching all those zombie shows. You'll rot your brain.
I had laughed when my mom made that joke, and she wasn't even trying to be funny.

“Chloe!”

After three heartbeats came the reply. “Emma?”

“Here!”

“Help me!”

I spun in a circle, attempting to triangulate the sound. “Where are you?”

“I don't know. I tripped.” It sounded like she was trying very hard not to panic. Her voice was rough with pain. “My ankle hurts bad. I can't walk!”

“Okay!” I yelled. “We'll find you!” She couldn't be that far away. “Oscar and I are here! Just keep making sounds or something.”

More quiet crying, but I still couldn't tell the direction.

“Chloe? You have to be louder so we can find you!” Oscar called. “Can you sing or something?”

“Sing?” I turned around, but he was just a faceless outline behind me. It was a good idea. A weird idea. “What song?”

“Doesn't matter.”

It was quiet. Then . . .

Ring around the rosie

A pocketful of posies

We moved forward slowly, and Oscar held on to my shoulder. Chloe's voice was clear, and it grew louder, an eerie echo piercing the darkness.

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

Well, that's appropriate,
I thought as I stepped through a pale stand of aspens, then immediately caught my foot on a clump of uneven ground and went sideways. Off balance, I pitched forward a few steps as the terrain sloped away underneath my boots, dipping down to a small ravine. This must be where she tripped. If I had been running, I would have. We must be close. I grabbed an aspen trunk to steady myself.

“Chloe?”

A dark shape huddled on the ground about ten yards away, slowly rocking back and forth. She stopped, turned her head up. “He left me.”

“Who?”
Did she mean Isaac?

“He left me,” she mumbled again, more to herself. “He left me.”

Oscar crouched down. “Where does it hurt?”

“My ankle.” Chloe exhaled a rippled breath when Oscar put his hand on her leg.

“What about here?”

“No. Just the ankle.”

“Did you hear a pop?”

At the sound of the word “pop” something fizzed and buzzed in my ears, causing my vision to narrow into a pinprick and my mouth to fill with saliva. I pressed my fingertips to my eyes and flared my nostrils.
Don't faint now.

“I don't think so.” He undid the laces and eased her boot off. Chloe sucked in a whimper when Oscar found the bad spot.

After a minute he said, “I don't think anything is broken. Just a bad sprain.”

“I've rolled my ankle before. I've sprained it before,” Chloe said. “But this is way worse. I can't even put weight on it.”

“I know,” Oscar nodded. “It's a really bad sprain. A third degree, I bet.”

“How many degrees are there?”

“Three.”

“So it's the worst.”

“Yeah.”

“Great,” Chloe said through gritted teeth.

Oscar put her boot back on carefully, keeping the laces loose. “I can't believe he left you.”

“I can.” I couldn't help myself. “That's what cowards do,” I added.
Period. Exclamation point.

“Emma,” Oscar began. “We don't know if—”

“Know what?” I was suddenly enraged. “We don't know that he's exactly the type of person who would save his own ass first?”
What kind of person leaves a helpless person behind? A gutless, worthless coward, that's who.
I bit down on my lip.
What kind of person lets her little sister die?

The same kind.

Me.

“Lucy . . .” Something bright and hazy washed over my face, a roar building in my ears. Suddenly I couldn't see a thing.

A second later I felt Oscar grab my shoulder. “Emma!”
He shook me, rougher than I thought necessary. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I'm right here.” I blinked, but the words didn't sound right. It sounded like
fight her
. I was sitting in the leaves, something damp soaking through my pants. I must have fallen down.

“Who's Lucy?”

“What?” I looked up. Oscar's pale face in the dark woods stood out, his eyes bright with worry.

“Are you all right? I can't have you spacing out on me! You need to focus.”

“I am.” I rubbed my eyes. The smoke had found us again. “I'm here. I'm fine.”

“Okay,” Oscar said. “You carry the supplies. I'll carry Chloe.”

Oscar shed his supplies, and we helped her up. With three packs and the first aid kit I was loaded down like a mule, and I staggered sideways until I got the weight distributed. Now we would be traveling at a snail's pace, and if the wind picked up, there would be no way to outrun it.

Oscar squatted down, and Chloe leaned over his shoulders. “One, two, three.” With a grunt they were up, Oscar looking much steadier with the extra weight than I did. “All right, lead us out, Emma.”

I did, swaying and tripping forward in the dark as fast as I could, calling out hazards as I found them, and listening to the sound of the world as it burned down behind us.

I ran (more like trotted), my hands out in front of me like a blind person. But my hearing rose to the next level. The sound of crunching leaves, Oscar's heavy breaths behind me, Chloe's painful gasps.

My throat was raw, tongue swollen so it was hard to swallow. How much farther could we go? We'd been running all night. A branch jabbed my side, making me jump sideways, only to have something else poke me in the shin.

“Ow!” I stopped suddenly, leaned over, forgetting that I had three packs on me, and almost landed on my face. I turned sideways at the last second, landing heavily on my shoulder, and wound up on my back, stuck like a turtle in its overturned shell. I stared up at the hole in the canopy of trees. Bright three-quarter moon rising with wispy clouds passing across. Too bright to see stars. Or maybe the clouds were really smoke.

“Emma?” Oscar was suddenly standing over me, with Chloe's face peeking over his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” I said, and turned my head to check. “I just fell.” I slipped my arms out of the backpacks and rolled onto my hands and knees. “I'm just tired,” I admitted. “And thirsty.”

“I know.” Oscar helped Chloe slide down off his back. “Me too.”

“I'm sorry,” Chloe sniffed, sitting in a lump on the ground. “Me and my stupid ankle.”

“It's not your fault,” I said. “It could have happened to anyone.” It still could, I thought.

Oscar leaned back against a tree trunk, catching his breath. “Do you still smell any smoke?”

I sniffed. “No, but I can't tell anymore.” I put my face against my sleeve. “My clothes reek, though.”

“What do we do now?” Chloe wanted to know. “I hate that I'm slowing you guys down.”

“You're not,” Oscar reassured her; he didn't say what we were all thinking.
If Isaac were with us, we'd be able to move much faster.
“We can't move very quickly in this dark anyway. There's no trail and it's too dangerous. We don't even know where we're going.”

“I wish we could see the stars.” My tongue was still swollen in my mouth, my ears radiating heat, my chest constricted, and sharp stabs punctured my back with every breath. I took a swig from my canteen, trying to swallow the
sensation away. “We could at least find the North Star and use it as a compass.”

I rotated around, looking for a breeze, something to give me a clue what direction I should take. “I don't know where we should go. For all I know we've been running in circles.”

“Well, we should try to keep moving,” Oscar replied, but he didn't budge from his resting spot. “We need to keep going.” From the heavy sound of his words I knew he must be exhausted.

“For how long?”

“Until morning, I guess.”

It would be hours before dawn. There was no way we could run or even walk all night, especially while carrying someone. “No,” I said. “We don't have enough water to keep going, not at this pace.”

“Then what should we do?” Chloe's voice was strained, ashamed to be the burden.

“We should find a place we can rest,” I said.

“But what about the fire?” Oscar pushed off from the tree.

“Then we'll have to run again,” I said. “We can take turns keeping watch, but we really need to rest. If we keep going all night, we won't have the strength to get away if it comes. We need to find a place that won't burn.”

“You mean like a lake?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Anything near water. Or something high up, like a cliff.”

Oscar agreed. “We should try to find a hill or ridge. Maybe we'll be able to see.”

“All right,” I said, heaving the packs back on. “Higher ground or water.”

Oscar braced himself under Chloe's weight. “We'll rest more,” I told him. “We can definitely do this if we take our time.” I trudged forward; even I didn't believe that lie. I just hoped Oscar and Chloe would.

*  *  *

When the ground slanted up under my feet, I wanted to run, but by this point I was almost too tired to care. The terrain was definitely more rocky, more dirt and grit and pebbles, fewer trees and shrubs. I looked ahead, feeling something looming in front of me, but still unable to see much. “I think there's a hill up here!”

After a minute Oscar huffed up behind me. “Thank God” was all he managed to get out before sinking to the ground. Chloe hopped off his back. “Sorry.” She winced. She looked at me. “How steep is it?”

“I don't know. I can't really see.” And just like that, the clouds or smoke passed away from the moon, illuminating the granite ridge in front of us. It was high, at least fifty yards up, sparsely dotted with trees, and I quickly scanned the cliff face, looking for a way up. “There.” I pointed to the far end. “Maybe we can get up over there.”

Chloe didn't look so sure. “I can't make Oscar carry me up that.”

“He won't.”

“What do you mean?”

“We'll both carry you,” I said, deciding the plan.

“But what about all the gear?” Oscar panted from his spot on the ground. “We can't do it all at once.”

“I'll carry the packs up first,” I said, “and see if I can find a decent trail. Then I'll come back down and we'll help Chloe up.”

“I don't like that idea,” he said. “You shouldn't do this by yourself.”

“I'm not,” I replied, looking down at him. “You've been doing most of the work all night. I can do this.” I grabbed all three packs to make my point. “I can definitely do this.”

“It's too dark,” Oscar argued. “You could trip and fall.”

“The moon is pretty bright,” I said. “I'll be able to see better than I did in the woods.” I strapped one pack to my front, the heaviest on my back, and carried the lightest one (mine) over my shoulder like a purse. If I needed to, I could drop it. I turned my head to the cliff, sniffing the breeze.
Smoke?
I needed to be fast. “Okay, I'll be back soon.”

“Hurry,” said Chloe, “but don't hurry. You know what I mean?”

“I do,” I said, adjusting the weight. “I know exactly what you mean.” I squeezed the straps tightly in my fists, willing myself a burst of energy, and started in a quick walk to the looming wall ahead.
I can do this. I have to do this.

At first it wasn't bad. By the time I reached the rise, I had
caught my breath, and the beginning of the slope was a fairly gradual incline. After a few minutes, however, the ground rose dramatically, causing me to switch to hand over foot. The pack strapped to my chest scraped against the rocks, and something inside it prodded dully against my stomach. Whatever trail there had been had quickly disintegrated. I peeked up after a few minutes, looking for the top of the ridge, but I couldn't see it. My head pounded; I was thirsty, but there was no way to reach my canteen now. Instead, I pressed the side of my face against the cliff, taking another breath before I reached my hand up, my knuckles scraping against rock. I should have worn gloves.
Did I even bring gloves?
I tested my handhold before I stepped up. So far so good. I wanted to look to see if I could see the fire, but at the same time I was terrified I might. So I kept climbing.

Hand, hand, check. Foot, foot, rest
. I was almost at vertical now, and I wondered how we would get Chloe up. I would have to find a different route. This way would be impossible.