Chapter 29
Tegan
I walked for a bit, searching for a way out of this hell, but I only ended up more lost. I’m sure they teach you to stay put in Girl Scouts, but I didn’t exactly have the sort of upbringing that included extracurriculars.
The thought only occurs to me once I’ve wandered much too far to find my way back.
The road is gone. I saw it making a sharp turn shortly after setting out, and I thought I could save some time by cutting through the woods. This was probably the biggest mistake I could have made, as I haven’t seen the road since.
It’s not even that cold out, yet my body trembles. Is it the fear? Is it the cooling sweat coating my skin as I jog through the woods? I don’t know. But I just keep willing my legs to work despite their aching tiredness as I head toward the sound of water.
When I was a little girl and things happened to me with men, I’d run out the screen door at the back of our house and head toward the sound of rushing water.
I’d chase the sound until I got to the bent chain-link fence, which I’d climb to get to the mound of dirt above the drainage pipe.
Water jetted from the big black void and flowed into the river beneath it.
I’d plop down in that cold, damp dirt and just stare at the liquid rushing from that pipe.
It was easy to imagine being a drop of that water.
The dark, cavernous place it came from was the hell I’d just escaped.
I imagined the freedom as I melded with the river and drifted away. Far away.
I guess I’ve drifted.
A little farther than I wanted, it seems.
But like that scared little kid, I’m running toward the only thing that feels safe. The water.
My stomach growls, and I remember what it feels like to be truly hungry. My dry lips aren’t faring much better. I’d kill for water right now, and I say this as a staunch soda aficionado. But I need to get to the water, not so much to drink it as to see it. Hear it. I have to calm down.
I stumble to a stop as my eyes snag on something that doesn’t seem right.
A dark shadow stands within the darkness.
I don’t know how long I’ve been in these shitty woods, but I think I’m hallucinating now.
Dehydration will do that. But once the shadow opens its mouth and I see big, pointy teeth, I realize it’s a fucking bear.
It stands on its back legs and sniffs the air after it lets out a warning roar.
I’m sure I look like an excellent choice for a meal. Fat and weakened. Beyond irritable.
I try to remember what instructions Animal Planet gave regarding this situation. I’m supposed to play dead, right? Or is that only when it attacks you? Maybe I’m supposed to seem big and scary. I’ve certainly got the big part down, and thank you, Stacks, for reminding me.
“Go away!” I whisper-shout as I wave my hands above my head.
The bear sniffs the air again.
“Go on, bear!” I whisper-shout again. “Get!”
Instead of retreating, the massive beast drops to all fours and takes a step toward me.
This time, I raise my chest and step toward the bear. “Get the fuck out of here, bear! You don’t know what the fuck I have been through in the last eight hours, and you don’t want to fucking find out!”
The bear licks his lips, flicks his ears, and turns tail to run.
The risk of being eaten really invigorated my legs, because I take off running again.
In the opposite direction of the bear, obviously.
Branches whip against my legs and cut through my pants.
And like every embarrassing character in a horror movie, I forget how legs work.
The toe of my shoe catches on a root snaking across the ground, and I go face first into the bushes.
My wrists ache as I land on them with all my weight. I love this for me.
I drag myself to my knees, thankful that my pride seems to be the most damaged part of me.
After forcing myself to my feet, I take a weak step forward.
I’m thirsty. I’m hungry. And somehow, I’m even more miserable by the time I break into a clearing and discover the source of the sound I’ve been chasing.
My eyes ride up the cascading waterfall.
When I was younger, I never saw the water from this angle.
I was always standing above, looking down.
Now I look up at the magnificent, raw power of Mother Nature, and it’s as terrifying as it is exciting.
Despite the absolute shit situation I’m in right now, with the serious risk of dying out here, I can’t help but see things from a different perspective.
I imagine how much power there is at the top.
How much better it would feel up there, with all the risk behind me and all the reward flowing into the lake beneath.
I want more than what I am. I want to be a stronger version of that sad little girl who used to be up there. There has to be more for me. But I’m uneducated and underqualified, so what more can there be?
I walk over to the bank’s edge and peer into the basin.
The water ripples away, heading to what might be another small fall down the lake.
Thank god it’s nighttime, because I would hate to see what might be floating in this water as I cup my hand beneath the surface and drag some to my mouth.
I don’t swallow, afraid I’ll end up on the news when giardia rips my bowels from my body.
I just let the water sit between my cheeks, wetting my dry mouth.
It’s cool and comforting, but it does nothing to soothe my parched throat.
Parting my lips, I release the water, then pull up another cool mouthful. I sit on the rocks beside the lake and rest my weary legs. I let the water run from my mouth, down my chin, beneath my shirt. What does it matter? There’s no one here to see me.
My eyes scan the vast wilderness around me. For the first time in a long time, I feel hopeless. I’m the fat, anxious city girl who saw a drainage pipe as her salvation. Now? I don’t know what salvation I can hope for.
There’s no way Alec will find me.
How could he?
I’m in the middle of nowhere.