Chapter 34
Maggie faced Erik, the rock still gripped in her hand.
Her pack was unbuckled—she could slip it off, run—but Erik looked faster, fitter. He would catch her. And anyway, where would she run?
“You don’t trust me,” Erik said, face pinched, jaw tight.
Blood bloomed to the surface of her skin, hot enough to make her body pulse with it.
“What have they told you?”
She kept her mouth shut.
He looked agitated as he waited for her answer, thumb scratching at his chin. Suddenly, Erik glanced over his shoulder.
Maggie tensed, alert.
The sound of movement echoed from behind Erik. She held her breath, listening.
There it was again, the tread of boots over earth. Then she thought she heard a female voice.
Maggie began to shout. “Helena! Liz! Joni!”
Erik’s eyes widened.
Blood pulsed in her ears as she waited. Then, from the silence, her own name reverberated off the dense trees. “Maggie? Maggie?”
“I’m here!” Maggie cried, stumbling toward the familiar voices.
Relief coursed through her as she saw Helena emerge, running toward her, yelling her name.
Liz and Joni were only paces behind, packs bouncing on their shoulders, faces flushed. She spotted a fourth person—Vilhelm?—before she was swallowed by her friends’ embraces.
She held on tight in a clash of packs, arms, elbows. A rush of pure, warm relief flooded through her body, almost buckling her knees.
“We lost you! My God, are you okay?” Helena said, holding her tight.
“I’m so sorry!” Liz kept saying, the four of them still in a clumsy knot of limbs. “You weren’t behind us! We didn’t realize! I’m sorry!”
When they pulled apart—Maggie wiping tears from her face—she saw Vilhelm standing with his dog at his heel.
“Vilhelm’s been helping us search,” Joni explained.
Maggie swallowed. “Oh. Thank you.” Then she turned, scanning the silver trunks of the birches, her gaze moving over logs and dense bushes. But the tree line was empty, Erik gone, melted back into the forest as if she’d imagined him.
“What is it?” Helena asked, noticing her expression.
“Erik . . . Did you see him?”
Her friends looked at one another, shook their heads.
“He was right here.”
They turned, as did Vilhelm, peering deep into the forest.
“When I was lost, he was in the woods, just standing there”—she lowered her voice—“watching me.”
“What the hell?” Helena hissed. “Did he try anything? Are you okay, Mags?”
Maggie looked down, noticing the rock still gripped in her fist. She opened her fingers and let it slip to the forest floor. “I’m fine . . . but it was just . . . odd . . . the way he looked at me. He called me Karin.”
Vilhelm was staring at her.
“Erik said he was leading me toward the coast—but this feels like the wrong direction.” She turned to Vilhelm. “Is it?”
Slowly, Vilhelm turned and pointed in the opposite direction. “The coast is that way.”
Something cold moved through her stomach. “Where was Erik taking me?”
Her friends looked at one another.
“A shortcut, perhaps?” Vilhelm suggested, although his voice lacked conviction.
Maggie glanced about, as if she expected him to be half-hidden among the trees. She lowered her voice as she addressed Vilhelm: “At the lodge, it seemed like the locals are wary of Erik. Why?”
Vilhelm adjusted the peak of his cap minutely before responding. His voice was low, quiet. “Erik was hiking the Svelle trail with Karin when she disappeared. He was the last person to see her alive.”
Maggie blinked, taking in the information. “What happened?”
Vilhelm shook his head slowly, as if to suggest he was at a loss. “There was an argument, I understand. Erik says he walked off. Left Karin.”
“Do you think he hurt her?” Maggie asked.
“No one knows for sure,” Vilhelm said. “There are no witnesses in the wilderness.”
—
“Let’s get out of these woods,” Joni decreed.
Maggie nodded. She needed to see sky, breathe in fresh air.
“How far is it to the sea?” Liz asked Vilhelm.
“The forest thins in another kilometer, and the coast is only over that next ridge,” he answered. “But there’s bad weather coming in soon. You’ll be exposed on the coast.”
The sea—that’s what Maggie craved. Wide-open space, somewhere to wash herself clean. The light was lowering and she didn’t want to camp in the woods overnight. “I want to keep going,” Maggie said decisively. “I need to get out of these woods.”
The others nodded their agreement.
“In the morning, maybe then we think about turning back?” Maggie suggested.
“Reaching the beach—that’s enough for me,” Helena said. “I’m crippled by these blisters.”
Joni said, “I don’t think I’ve the energy to make it up Blafjell.”
“It was a pipe dream,” Liz admitted. “I shouldn’t have pushed us so hard. We don’t need to climb a mountain. I just wanted us to be together. I’m sorry. We walk to the beach. Camp there. Then turn back in the morning and head for the lodge.”
Maggie’s shoulders softened with relief.
“Are you sure?” Vilhelm said. “I’m returning to the river now. I could show you the way back?”
“We’re fine,” Liz said. “But thank you for all your help.”
He looked uncertain about letting them hike on, but their minds were made up. Vilhelm dug around in his pack and pulled out a small bar of chocolate, still wrapped, and handed it to Maggie. “To keep up your strength,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, surprised by the warmth of the gesture.
Vilhelm called Runa to heel, and man and dog departed, disappearing into the gloom of the forest.
The four of them walked on, Maggie snapping the chocolate bar into quarters and sharing it out. “Mmm, this tastes incredible,” she said, letting the chocolate melt on her tongue.
“A definite upgrade from a gutted fish,” Helena added.
Maggie’s heart rate had begun to settle now that the trees had thinned. Early evening light filtered through the sparse branches. A deep weariness spread through her limbs, and although she was exhausted, she was thankful that she was here, safe, with her friends.
Eventually the earthy trail turned drier, rock replacing roots.
As they walked, Liz came to her side and quietly slipped her arm through Maggie’s. “I’m sorry we let you down in the woods. That I let you down.”
“You didn’t. I’m not your responsibility.
” She’d allowed the others to carry her along on this trip, Helena paying for her flight, sending her the right gear, reorganizing her backpack; and the same with Liz, who’d planned the route, checked the weather, sent her the list of things to bring.
But Maggie was the one who had to walk across this wilderness and out the other side. No one could do that for her.
She looked up at the blushing evening light, the tips of mountains visible in the distance. It was wildly beautiful, but she’d also seen how dangerous it could be. She needed to start taking responsibility. Taking it seriously.
They all did.
“We look out for one another from now on,” Maggie said.
Liz held her gaze. Nodded.
Joni, who’d struck out ahead, suddenly stopped. She turned, shouting, “Guys! Quick! You’ve got to see this!”