Chapter Eight – Thea
Chapter Eight
Thea
I was tired, it was dark outside, but staying at the cabin after what had happened was out of the question. I had to move and hope the woman who’d attacked me had left and wasn’t lurking in the woods, ready to follow me. I stepped outside and took a few minutes to study my surroundings. I pointed the flashlight in all directions, and squinted my eyes, trying to catch the slightest movement. It was quiet.
That didn’t make me feel any better. I felt like I wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe I’d never been alone, and that woman had followed me all day. Maybe all this time, I’d been watched. I’d talked to myself, sung to myself, and I had bathed in the stream, almost naked. The thought that someone might’ve heard and seen all that made my skin crawl. Like I was covered in ants.
I couldn’t think about that. I couldn’t think about anything. I started walking, my sole goal for the moment being to put distance between myself and the cabin. I saw the tree under which I’d found shelter when the woman came after me. I stopped and looked up at it.
“Hey,” I said.
Okay, so I was going insane, because the tree looked different. Like it had straightened up. Some of its branches were still bent, but they weren’t forming the cage they’d formed before. My eyes were playing tricks on me. It was the only decent explanation. I was exhausted, I couldn’t see well in the dark, and I was on edge. But this was the tree. I was certain of it. There was something about it that made it different from all the other trees.
“Hey,” I said again, as if it hadn’t felt weird the first time. I was talking to a tree!
Its leaves rustled, but there was no wind. Strange. Everything about tonight was strange.
“Thank you for protecting me. I’m sorry I...” I let out a sigh and raised my gloved hand before me. I’d put my gloves on after lacing up my boots. “I’m sorry I freaked out.” I flexed my fingers and considered taking my glove off but thought better of it. I reached out and rested my hand against the trunk of the tree. I wasn’t ready to feel the rough bark directly on my skin. “Thank you.”
As I leaned my weight slightly on the tree, I glanced at the path ahead. I thought about what the woman had said. That I wasn’t worthy. What was I doing out here? What was I trying to prove? To myself and others... I should’ve gone back. She wanted me to go back, or next time, she was going to plunge her knife right into my throat. She’d promised as much.
In the dark, I wasn’t sure in which direction to go. All I knew was that I couldn’t spend the night anywhere near the cabin where it had all happened.
“What do you think?” I addressed the tree, knowing full well it couldn’t understand me and wasn’t going to respond. “Do you think I should go back? Home sweet home... How I miss it! I just want to be in my bed right now and forget all about today. But I can’t. So much depends on me. I have to do what I said I’d do. I’d said ‘yes’, and I can’t back down now.” The branches swayed and the leaves murmured. I looked up at the tree’s canopy. “I don’t want to do this,” I said, feeling like I’d just gone into confession mode. “I don’t want to marry Soren Sinclair, and I don’t want to hike through the woods for three days. But I made a promise.” An image of Matthew from when we were kids flashed through my mind, and I bit my lip hard. “I’m scared,” I added in a lower voice. It was barely a whisper. It felt like the leaves and vines were whispering back. “I’m scared, but I have no choice. I made a promise.”
I tapped on the trunk three times, for good luck, then started walking.
I was slower at night, but I tried to be patient with myself. I had to be careful where I put my foot. I had to wait for dawn to come to inspect my wounds. I had a small first aid kit in my backpack. There was pain in my left side, and I could feel blood crusting over my forearm. I tried to keep my mind off it. I didn’t like blood. It made me queasy. The thought that I’d have to clean my wounds and patch them up made me feel a little sick to my stomach. But I knew I’d have to do it, or there was a risk of infection. And I was terrified of infection more than I was terrified of blood.
To pass the time, I started singing again, but in a very low voice. I didn’t want to attract any wild animals. Surely, they were more active at night. It helped me stay awake and alert, because I felt like I was swaying a bit, and every time I saw a bigger rock, or a protruding root, I wanted to sit down just for a minute. I fought the urge to stop. I knew if I did, I was in serious danger of falling asleep, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t have the energy to take my sleeping bag out again and find a decent spot, and I couldn’t allow myself to doze off leaning against some tree, or I’d be perfect prey for insects and other stuff. Ants, ticks, flies, mosquitoes – they frightened me.
I kept walking, kept pushing, until light started filtering through the thick canopy. I walked for ten more minutes, then I had to give up and allow myself to rest. I emerged into a small clearing and saw a log that was right in the middle of it and looked comfortable enough. I plopped down on it, dropped my backpack, and hung my head in my hands. I closed my eyes just for a second.
The second turned into a minute, and the minute turned to...
I didn’t notice when I dozed off.