Prologue #2
What feels like days later, and just when my hope is nearly gone, the tunnel opens up and daylight floods the exit.
Mountain peaks and snow-covered trees come into view.
Blessed tears of joy stream down my cheeks and turn into tiny ice crystals the moment they hit the ground.
The words I heard in my head come back as a reminder while I stare at nothing but a vast wilderness sprawling further than my eyes can see.
“Keep going. The path ahead of you will challenge your will to survive, Sadie. There will be times you’ll pray for death. But know that you are meant for a greater purpose.”
With nothing more than the clothes on my back, the boots on my feet, and the reminder that faith has gotten me this far, I choose to walk the path laid before me.
I don’t know where it leads or whether I have enough strength left to reach the end, but standing still means giving up, and I refuse to do that.
One step at a time, I choose to believe that this is not the end for me.
The sun has risen and set 18 times since I escaped the caves, making my way down the mountains and surviving off cattail shoots near the edges of lakes and various berries I’ve found along the way.
I stuck to the huckleberries, thimbleberries, and nagoonberries that I was familiar with from the times my family and I would forage during our hikes.
The temperatures have been dropping to the point where my coat is no longer keeping me warm, and I’m losing the feeling in my fingertips.
As the clouds above my head darken, I know it’s time to seek shelter, though the thought of spending another night alone in the cold makes my already-heavy legs feel even heavier.
“Are you Sadie?” a man asks as he walks up to me with a pack on his back. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, with olive-colored skin, hair as black as coal, and eyes the color of Caribbean waters.
Despite his beauty, I take a step back and prepare to run.
“Wait,” he says in a way that instantly stops me from bolting.
It’s commanding, but not urgent. He holds his hands up in a placating gesture that I’m sure is meant to calm me.
Surprisingly, it works, as does the soothing and gentle tone of his voice.
For some reason, I feel at peace in his presence, but don’t have the courage to tell him my name.
“Who wants to know?” I squeak out.
He chuckles. “My name is Uri. Sadie, you’ve been missing for almost three weeks. It’s quite a surprise to find you out here in the middle of nowhere. You’ve been written off as either a runaway or presumed to be dead. To think that you survived all this time.”
“Well, you’re out here,” I say, still keeping my distance even though every part of me wants to step closer to him. “That means nowhere can’t be far from somewhere.”
“That’s true,” he replies with a soft chuckle.
His voice sounds an awful lot like the one in my head that has been urging me not to give up, to pick myself up off the snow-covered ground, or to curl up under exposed tree roots when a storm came through.
Three times I prayed to die, and each time a whispered word gave me strength to go one more day.
Have I gone from imagining a voice to giving it a face?
Uri holds out his hand to me. “Let’s get you to safety, Sadie. Let’s get you home.”
With trembling fingers, I hesitantly wrap my fingers around his.
Instantly, warmth infuses me and thaws every part of my body from my ears to my toes.
Hope fills my chest, so sudden and overwhelming that for one precious second, I almost forget how tired I am.
Yet, when I use the last bit of energy left and take another step, my knees buckle underneath me.
“I don’t have the strength to go any further,” I tell him as my eyes close of their own accord.
He lifts me from the ground and whispers in my ear. “Don’t worry, Sadie. I have enough strength to carry you.”
When I wake up, I’m lying in a bed with wires and tubes coming from my body and the sound of a machine beeping to the rhythm of my heartbeat.
“Good morning, little one,” a woman with graying hair and kind eyes says as she stands in the doorway with a mug in her hand.
Next to her is an older man that emanates the sweet “grandpa” vibe without him having to say a word.
“You’ve been asleep for two days. My name is Sarah, and my husband’s name is Abel. You’re fortunate to be alive.”
“Where’s Uri?” I ask in a hushed voice.
“Oh, is that his name? He never said who he was. Just told us who you were and warned us to keep quiet about it. Then he disappeared. There one second, then gone the next! Craziest thing I’ve ever witnessed, let me tell you!
He did say that we can trust Officer Petrov, so she’s who we called. Are you hungry?”
My stomach rumbles and answers for me.
Sarah steps into the room and offers me the mug. “It’s homemade chicken bone broth, and it should be easy enough on the stomach. We’ll get you something more substantial when you can handle it.”
I sit up and take the offering with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Sweetie. You’ve been through a lot.
Everyone in these parts thought you were dead.
At least that’s what the news was saying.
The other story circulating is that you ran away.
To survive alone under such conditions at such a young age is a testament to your strength and will to live.
When your friend found you and brought you to us, you were hypothermic and on death’s door. ”
“I wasn’t alone,” I whisper into the cup.
Sarah pats my leg and smiles. “We never are.” There’s a slight scrunch to her nose when she stands up.
“Once you’re done with the broth, why don’t we get you cleaned up beyond where the doctors injected the IVs?
I have some of my granddaughter’s clothes from when she comes to visit. They should fit you perfectly.”
Appreciation for her kindness settles deep in my bones. After weeks of fear and cold, being cared for by someone without wanting anything in return almost hurts. “Thank you. I’d like to call my parents if that’s okay.”
“We’ll let Officer Petrov handle all of that. There are two FBI agents waiting for you, and they would like to talk to you first. They’re the ones who got you the medical attention you needed.”
All I can do is manage a nod because I don’t have the strength to argue. I’m alive, and it won’t be long before I’m reunited with my family. If three weeks in the wilderness didn’t kill me, then a few more hours won’t hurt.
Sarah disconnects the IV lines, admitting to me that she used to be a nurse.
Then she draws me a desperately needed bath.
By the time I get out of the Victorian sunken tub—a tub I filled up two more times before the water stayed clear—Officer Katrina Petrov and the two agents are waiting patiently for me in the living room.
Clean and clothed in something that doesn’t need to be burned, I force a smile as I take a seat at the kitchen table. Abel Graham sets a bowl of split pea and ham soup in front of me before taking his leave while Sarah pats my hand and stays with me for moral support.
“My name is Officer Katrina Petrov with the Eureka Police Department. I’m here to let you know that you are safe, Sadie.
Your whereabouts are being kept tightly under wraps.
We thought it best to have a woman present in case you needed to talk about anything that you may not want to say to a man.
However, the two gentlemen with me are agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and they’ll be the ones who handle your case. ”