Stranded

Chapter Twenty-three

Abby sat straight up in the dark and tried to focus.

Next to her, the fire subtly crackled, barely producing enough light to see.

She could make out the dark forms of the nearby trees and the black star-studded sky, but little else.

She wasn’t sure what woke her, but something had shaken her to the core, causing her heart to race.

She pushed herself to a stand, took a few soft steps away from the flames, and squinted into the vast night.

“Hello?” Her breath was a white cloud, and she hugged herself from the intense chill. Her nose and ears were numb, her hands the same. She’d fallen asleep outside the shelter. Whit would say she needed to warm up and fast.

Seeing and hearing nothing suspicious, she walked back to the fire and, after giving the embers a thorough rousing stir, added more wood.

She warmed herself in the growing heat and considered joining Whit in the makeshift abode.

It would be warmer inside, with the heat reflecting off the fire wall Whit had built, and of course, with Whit herself.

Perhaps she could snuggle into her again and perhaps Whit would wrap her arms around her as she’d done before, making her feel not only noticeably warmer, but also tremendously safer.

The chill left Abby at just the thought alone, and she smiled, already feeling better. But then she heard something. A loud clang. She froze for a split second, feeling completely exposed and frightened, but then kicked into gear and rushed into the shelter to wake Whit.

“Whit! Whit, get up! Someone is here!”

Whit grumbled awake and, upon registering Abby’s words, sat up and crawled from the dwelling.

Abby followed and they both stood motionless in front of the fire, breathing heavily.

“Where?” Whit said.

Abby pointed. “I heard a noise. It came from over there where you hung the pot of food.”

Whit pulled out her phone and tried to switch on her flashlight. “It’s dead.” She looked at Abby. “You stay here. I’m going to go take a look.”

“But you can’t even see.”

“Just stay back, okay? It’s probably just an animal, going after the fish.”

“What if it’s a bear?”

“It would be making a lot more noise.”

Abby let her go and remained by the fire. She heard Whit’s footfalls for a while, until she got too far away, then she heard nothing at all. And just as she was beginning to panic, she heard footfalls again and Whit reappeared, grimacing.

“Well?” Abby asked.

“Whatever it was stole our pot.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Positive. Took the vine and everything.”

“So we’re out of food again?” Now the panic really did set in, churning her gut.

“Yep.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We’ll scavenge and try to fish, just like before. But try not to worry, we can survive a while without food. It’s water we mainly have to worry about. Let’s go back to bed.”

“I don’t think I can. I’m too…on edge.”

Whit caressed her hand. “It was probably an animal.”

“An animal? Wouldn’t that have made a lot more noise than just a single clang?” She shook her head. “I’m not buying it, Whit.”

“Come on.” She gently tugged her, trying to get her back into the shelter. “Let’s talk about it away from the cold.”

Abby reluctantly followed but Whit halted at the entryway.

“What?” Abby asked.

Whit moved aside to show her. Abby leaned forward to observe something hanging from one of the branches on the dwelling. “What the hell is that?”

Whit held it in her palm and angled it toward the firelight.

“Oh, God,” Abby said, as she studied the figure. “That looks like a person. A stick figure.”

“I think that’s what it’s supposed to be.”

“What does it mean?”

“Well,” Whit said. “Considering the fact that it looks like a person and it’s hanging by a noose, I’d say it’s another threat. Especially since it was put on our shelter.”

“But how could he have put it there? I didn’t even hear him,” Abby said as shivers overtook her. “Oh, my God, Whit. He was so close. We were so…vulnerable.”

“He’s trying to scare us.”

“He’s succeeding.” She turned to face the fire. “I’m scared to death, Whit. This is some straight up Blair Witch shit and there’s no way I can sleep now.”

“Me neither.” Whit yanked the stick figure off the branch and tossed it into the fire, along with more wood. “Guess we better settle in by the fire.” She sat lotus-style and seemed to be watching the human-like figure as it burned.

Abby approached slowly, still deeply uneasy. Holding herself, both from the chill and the anxiousness she felt, she stared into the dark shapes of the forest, anticipating when Boyd would make his next move.

“What if it’s not Boyd?” she asked.

“I’ve considered that too, but honestly, who else would it be?”

“I don’t know. Another stranger?”

“Who just happened to stumble upon us to stalk us?”

Abby dropped down next to her. “This is just getting crazier by the second and it doesn’t seem to fit Boyd’s MO.”

“What does, Abby? Remember you hardly knew the man.”

“I know, but I think I got a good feel for him. He—wasn’t like this.”

“He stole all our food. Don’t forget that.”

It still didn’t make sense to her, but there was little more she could say.

Whit was right, he did steal from them. And most likely lied about things he’d told her.

Maybe it really was Boyd. He was the only one they’d encountered and he did kind of sneak up on them at first, claiming he’d only just then seen the smoke from their fire.

“He tried to kill us,” she said softly, thinking aloud.

“He did.”

An image of the bear rocking against the door to the cabin filled her mind. It still horrified her to imagine what would’ve happened had he made it inside. Boyd had done that. Had wanted them to die in an awful, gruesome manner. “How could I have misjudged someone so drastically?”

“It happens sometimes,” Whit said. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

More unsettling feelings fluttered in her chest as memories from the past surfaced. “Seems to be happening to me a lot.”

Whit glanced at her. “It does?”

Abby nodded, wishing she could get lost in the hypnotic dance of the flames.

Whit didn’t say anything more. She seemed to know that whatever she was referring to was something deep and most likely painful.

She was respecting her privacy and Abby appreciated it.

But it didn’t make the memories any less agonizing.

She wasn’t sure what would, but she knew she’d do anything to make the fluttering anxiousness dissipate.

“I met her five years ago,” she started, almost in a daze. “I thought she was the most charming, most captivating person I’d ever met.”

“What was her name?” Whit asked.

“Daphne. Daph for short. God,” she breathed. “She was beautiful, funny, witty. And dynamite in bed. I thought I’d met the woman of my dreams.” She stared into the fire. “But, as I soon learned, nobody’s that perfect. Dream women do not exist.”

“What did she do?”

Abby let out a laugh. “What didn’t she do? She was extremely self-centered, and I had no clue. I mean, she lied to me about love, Whit. Why lie about love? I’ll tell you why. To take advantage of you, that’s why. And to take everything they can from you.”

Anger welled up inside her, killing the fluttering in an instant. Now her chest burned and her throat ached like acid had risen to eat away at it.

“She stole from you?” Whit asked.

Abby nodded again, brushing a stray tear from her eye.

She refused to cry over Daphne. Refused to cry over her again.

“She did,” she said. “And she lied to me and to my family both. Tried to take from them too with some fraudulent business deal. But luckily my mother caught on to her before it was too late.”

“That’s good.”

“Ha. Yes. Good for them. But for me, not so much. Because I didn’t believe my own mother. I didn’t believe what she said about Daphne. So, unfortunately, I was duped. And duped badly.”

Whit reached over and covered her hand. “I’m so sorry, Abby.”

“Don’t you want to know how much I lost?”

“Only if you want to tell me.”

“Thousands,” she said.

Whit squeezed her hand.

“I’m sorry,” Abby said. “I still can’t bring myself to verbalize the total amount out loud.”

“I understand. You don’t have to.”

Abby met her gaze. “Don’t I need to in order to fully heal?”

“Maybe. But you shouldn’t force anything.”

“You’re so kind, Whit.” She squeezed her hand in return. “So decent.”

“Decent,” Whit said and chuckled.

“What’s wrong with decent?”

“Nothing. It just doesn’t sound very exciting.”

“I’ve been with exciting. Trust me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

” She looked back to the dancing flames.

“Sometimes you just long for decent. And kind.” Her gaze returned to Whit, who was watching her closely, warming her just like the heat from the fire with her smoldering eyes. “You understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes. Question is…do you?”

Abby focused on Whit’s luscious-looking lips and leaned in to kiss her, taste her, savor her.

But just as their mouths were about to connect, Abby felt an icy tingle on her cheek.

First one, then another. And another. She looked up to where it seemed to be coming from, and saw lazy white snowflakes drifting down from the sky.

“It’s snowing,” she said, truly moved by the wondrous sight.

Whit blinked up at the night as flakes landed on her dark lashes. Abby smoothed them away with her thumbs and Whit caught her by the wrist as the downfall increased. “We need a good shelter, Abby. One better than this. It’s going to get cold.”

That panic feeling came rushing back, making Abby nauseous. “We should go, shouldn’t we?”

“As soon as dawn breaks.” She checked her watch. “In a couple of hours.”

“We’ll have to move quickly,” Abby said, already dreading the pain that would cause.

But Whit shook her head. “No, we go slow and steady. Just like we’ve been doing. Rushing will only cause problems. We need to remain calm, think positive, and just do the best we can.”

“But—”

“Shh.” She touched her lips. “No worrying. Just doing.” She gripped her hand. “Come on, let’s wait out the rest of the night in the shelter, away from the snow.”

“I hope it slows soon. Otherwise, we’ll be trekking through several inches of snow come dawn.”

“I have a feeling it’ll just be a light dusting,” she said, gently urging her inside.

“How do you know?”

“I live here, remember? And you’re not supposed to worry.”

“I’m not sure I know how to stop.” She sat on the pile of pine needles and waited while Whit crawled in behind her and pulled the door into place. Then Whit surprised her by embracing her, holding her tight.

“I’ll take your mind off everything.”

Abby’s pulse jumped to her throat. “How—will you do that?”

“By telling you a story.”

Abby relaxed into her. “I could use a good story.”

Whit rested her head on top of Abby’s. “I thought you might.”