Chapter 18
Betty
Today was the day; it had to be. The percentage left on my phone battery had dipped into the teens. This was my last chance to get away and find a signal. I hoped, at the very least, to find enough signal to send a text to Nash.
The day was cloudless, and the shed was nearly pristine.
I’d improved my little spa area with various items from the shelves.
Old flower pots, turned upside down, now held some of Gray’s candles, and I plugged in more fairy lights to the solar power.
It felt almost magical. If only I could share it on social media.
I glanced down at my work boots, surprised by how worn they already looked after just a few weeks of wearing them. Gray must have gone through hundreds of boots in his life with all he’d done.
All the exercise was showing on my body too.
My arm muscles were more defined than ever, and my legs could squat to pick up heavy objects like nobody’s business.
Every night ended with sore muscles, but it made it easy to fall asleep the minute my head hit the pillow.
That was on purpose. I exhausted myself like this to keep anxious thoughts at bay. Mostly, it was working.
I lifted my coat from the hook by the door. “Heading to the shed,” I called over my shoulder. “See you at lunch?”
Gray was leaving through the other door to tend to the greenhouse. “See you later,” he said.
Apparently, there was a leak in a section of the aquaponics, which would keep him occupied until at least lunch, if not mid-afternoon. It was the perfect incident and granted me about four hours to go to the cliff and return.
There was a secret go-pack ready in the shed, filled with climbing rope, a solo belay device—so I could control my ascent and descent without, you know, dying—carabiners, an old first aid kit, a helmet, and bear spray that I’d tested on a rat the other day.
It still worked.
I also found a plethora of random pocket knives and selected a few of the sharpest.
Most of the gear was old and beat up, but after working the hinges and polishing them with a rag, I found it usable.
I didn’t expect needing to climb too high; I was an experienced climber and had no qualms about height or challenging angles.
My only fear was how secluded we were. If I experienced a fall, getting help would be tricky, especially if Gray couldn’t find me.
But, fingers crossed, we’d be just fine. I hadn’t made a mistake in years.
As I rounded the shed door, I peeked through a crack in the siding, watching the hill for the icicles on the greenhouse to rattle. This would show me that Gray had gone inside and shut the door. He was a firm door shutter; it was a handy habit in this moment.
When I saw the icicles shake and glimmer in the dawning sunlight, I snatched up my pack and exited the shed as quickly as possible.
I slid along the length of the building until I rounded the corner.
The fence around the property greeted me, and I hopped it with ease, my feet landing with a crunch in the snow on the other side.
Behind me, I heard a familiar chattering sound. Larry had spotted me from his tree, and when I glanced back, I saw him bounding after me in curious spurts.
“Are you coming with me?” I asked.
Larry tilted his head, then hurried even closer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Can you show me a good place to cross the river?”
Larry’s whiskers twitched back and forth as he trotted to my side.
He’d been quite the character all week, proving endlessly useful in my bid to free the shed of vermin.
He’d even met the cats through the window.
Mr. Beans wasn’t impressed, but Villainy seemed to enjoy him, sitting on the sill and pawing at the glass.
Larry was getting plump from the steady supply of delicacies I was providing. He and I had reached a mutual understanding: he agreed not to jump out of the racks or leave dead animals in my bathtub, and I agreed not to judge his protein preferences. After all, protein was paramount.
We also did a lot of talking. It was nice to have someone to commiserate with about Gray, who seemed hellbent on remaining infuriatingly steady and stalwart. The man never seemed to falter.
Gray’s determination to do things for me and his unsettling talent to be sweet just when I needed it only fueled my annoyance.
I desperately wanted to hate him, but he was making it difficult.
He teased me, but delicately, and it was something I actually liked about him.
I think he knew it, too. Gray was far too adept at the concept of a witty barb, always having the perfect retort ready to counter my snarky comments.
He was a gorgeous, resilient asshole.
It made sense that he was so unfazed by my bitchy attitude. You’d have to be one tough bastard to survive out here. Everything in the woods demanded effort and patience.
We neared the river, Larry bounding ahead to leap onto the rocks.
He plunged his paw into the water as if to grab for something, but came up empty.
This section of the river had large boulders that offered good crossing points, but required me to jump a decent distance between each.
I’d scouted it a few times and practiced long jumps in the shed whenever I could.
Fortunately, my glutes were in the best shape of my life right now.
The hop to the first boulder was easy. I regained my balance and jumped again before overthinking it.
Thankfully, if I did fall in, I wasn’t too far from the cabin.
I could drag myself back with my tail between my legs and give up.
If fate dunked me, then I’d resign myself to the woods and become a full-blown forest crone with fifteen children in tow.
Four boulders down and two to go. The last few were straightforward. Larry, ever nimble, bounded ahead one boulder, then two, before looking back as if to encourage me. I leapt twice, and finally, my boots landed with a squelch on the damp bank on the other side.
I made it.
The dense woods ahead still allowed enough morning light to filter through, guiding my way. From what I could tell, it seemed the forest would open up again on the other side of this deer trail, just before the cliffside, which I hoped was only a twenty-minute walk away.
It was not.
I estimated that at least forty minutes passed before we reached the other side of the small patch of trees.
The distance was out of proportion to the city.
I was out of my element. The field, which looked so insignificant from the cabin, now stretched out for what appeared to be a mile or more between me and the cliff face.
I let out a sigh but kept moving through the frosty grass.
The sun glinted off the still stubborn mounds of melting snow.
There were a few bare spots scattered about where deer trails converged before branching off again like a spider’s web.
I followed one that headed in my desired direction, which made the journey through the matted dead grass less daunting.
Larry wove from side to side as he made his way down the trail, pausing now and then to pull out a stick or rock.
The sun climbed higher and higher in the sky.
I didn’t have a clock like I did back at the cabin, but it still seemed a while before noon.
Once I reached the top of the cliff, I could turn on my phone and check the time.
I wasn’t sure how long the rest of the trip took, but as I fell into the shadow of the mountain, the sun was dangerously high.
Shit.
If Gray found me gone, he’d implode. He’d have no idea where I was or what had happened to me. I should have left a note.
As I reached the bottom of the cliff and gazed up, I started thinking of a million things he might deduce about my absence. Maybe he’d think the rats came back to exact revenge for their blue tarp-do-minium, or perhaps he’d suspect the mafia found me and snuck me away.
He must be an experienced tracker, right? He was a hunter, and they had to be. I hadn’t considered that. What if he was already behind me, closing in?
I looked back across the field. Nothing but the occasional gust of wind and some clouds gathering on the horizon. The weather didn’t seem threatening. The clouds were too thin for any real precipitation, but it definitely felt colder than before.
I set my pack down on the icy snow at the cliff’s base, having eyed a good route to the summit. The climb appeared to have distinct ledges, which would break up the ascent and make it the safest path.
The most challenging part was this first section, an overhang.
I took out my climbing rope, cams to anchor me if I slipped, and harness, securing them to my belt before putting it on.
I hoisted the backpack back onto my shoulders and let out a breath.
Larry found a suitable evergreen and settled among the branches, picking apart a pinecone.
“Okay, Larry. Here goes nothing,” I murmured.
Reaching out an arm, I found my first handhold and began my ascent.
With considerable effort, sweat beading on my brow, I overcame the crux and reached the first ledge.
The second ledge was higher but more vertical than the first, which was a relief.
The final ledge was the easiest, resembling a challenging vertical hike more than a climb.
I left all the anchor cams in the rock face to simplify my descent.
Securing the rope to a small, weather-beaten bush, I left on my belt and hiked a few more feet to the summit.
I dropped my pack, took a deep breath, and gazed out at the vast landscape, awestruck by the solitude and wilderness around me.
The sun was high overhead. It was at least noon, if not later.
I’d underestimated the time it took to scale the cliff, too, and unfortunately, that probably meant Gray would inevitably find out I was gone.