Chapter Four
Jasper
Iwas getting a better understanding of why I was single with every minute I spent with Wren. Clearly spending too much time with my all-male SAR team, had my skills for talking to women a little rusty.
I shook the thought off and studied the map again. This wasn’t about finding a date. I was here to support my cousin, even if what she wanted was to send me out into the wilderness with a woman who hated me.
“There is a scenic lookout as our next stop, so we’re headed uphill.”
“Interesting, I figured it was all downhill from here,” she deadpanned.
That was a good one, I had to give her that. Angry Wren was a little scary but also funny, intentionally or unintentionally. Verbally sparring with her might actually be fun if I’d had a decent night’s sleep.
I didn’t think she agreed.
Despite finally giving me the map, she shouldered her way past me and started in the direction of the lookout.
A breeze blew over us that had a distinct chill compared to when we’d set out.
Of course, like any good search and rescue professional, I kept all the proper cold weather gear safely in my pack in case of emergencies. Unfortunately, that pack hadn’t gotten off the airplane with me, so as far as supplies went I had the underwear on my ass, and not much else.
Next time, I’ll just drive to Colorado.
By the time we reached the scenic lookout, we had run into zero other guests and a fog had rolled into the valley that was obscuring the view of, well, everything. The leaves were dancing steadily in the trees and it had that damp feeling in the air like it was going to rain.
Wren paused at the edge of the lookout, looking up at the sky instead of at the obstructed view. “I don’t like the look of those clouds.”
“We should backtrack to that cabin. It isn’t perfect for shelter, but we can be there in fifteen minutes walking downhill. Then wait out this storm with a roof over our heads.”
“That place wasn’t a shelter, it was a death trap,” she argued. “We should just take the most direct route down the mountain and back to Kara’s place. This storm could be nothing or it could get ugly. Either way, sheltering in place when the shelter is shit makes no sense.”
“It makes no sense right now because we’re dry. Once this rain hits you’ll be happy to have any roof over your head even if it’s covered in moss.”
“No, I won’t, because we won’t be at the cabin. Give me the map.” I held the two pieces together between us. “There, see, getting to the cabin had us veering off to the east. If we take a direct route back we can be there in no time.” She punctuated her point by jabbing her finger on the map.
I craned my neck to see the map from her angle. “Rain will have us going downhill in mud. We should stay put. Can’t risk a broken ankle out here.” I jabbed the map this time, indicating the potentially steep portion of the hike back.
“How do you ever even leave your house with that kind of logic, you—”
A flash of lightning, followed closely by a crack of thunder, cut off whatever she was about to say.
The patter of raindrops hitting the canopy sounded a half a second before it hit my skin.
The map in my hands, lovingly printed on delicate wedding-appropriate paper, all but disintegrated in my hand.
Fuck.
We were on high ground, the exact last place you want to be if there is lightning.
If we’d just agreed on a plan, we would have been in a safer place right now.
I grabbed Wren’s hand, expecting her to protest, but she didn’t. She squeezed my hand tight and together we darted through the sudden downpour.
We didn’t have a clear destination in mind, at least I didn’t.
We just needed to be lower and away from the tallest trees.
A cold wind whipped at us as we ran, but neither of us slowed.
Wren’s boot slipped on a patch of mud and I tightened my grip on her hand, keeping her standing so we could keep moving.
“There,” she called, pointing towards a depression in the ground off to our left.
It could have been from an old pit house or farmstead, or just erosion, but that didn’t matter. It was exactly what we needed.
We veered towards the low point in the land. There were a few trees growing in the depression but they were younger and shorter than the towering timber. If lightning struck, it would go for the tall trees and the high points, leaving us safe in the dip in the ground.
Safe and soaking wet.
No tall trees meant no natural shelter from the rain.
I dropped my pack on the ground and started going through it.
If I’d had my full gear bag, I could set up the camping equivalent of a five-star hotel.
Unfortunately, that bag was on a plane going who knew where.
I pulled out my raincoat and put it on, then dug through all the side pockets on the bag, finding one survival blanket folded up small.
That was it.
Great.
“You have anything we can use to stay dry?” I asked over my shoulder where Wren was digging through her pack too.
“This was supposed to be a leisurely hike,” she huffed as she dug. “I’ve got spare socks and a raincoat.” She put on the raincoat then set her bag to the side.
The coat was bright red and she looked like a sad soggy tomato.
“Here, we can share this to stay sort of dry.” I spread out the survival blanket on a log. We sat on the edge then pulled the rest over us like a half-assed shelter.
It wasn’t much but it would have to do.
We had both been too stubborn to work together and now we were paying for it.