Chapter 6 Cara
SIX
CARA
Follow your own path and respect everyone else’s. Hike your own hike, people. #HYOH
The campsite had been right next to a hiking trail, but Cara didn’t want to run into the campers.
She kept moving through the trees, bushwhacking through brush, clambering around rocks, and crunching along the forest floor while moving steadily downhill.
She had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but after what seemed like hours, she eventually found a different trail.
At least, she assumed it was a different trail.
A boulder with a camel’s hump looked familiar, but then, so did a couple others.
She was so turned around it was hard to say where she was.
Thinking civilization might be somewhere below her, she decided to head uphill.
Walking was so much easier on an established path that even hiking up a switchback was a relief—until she heard voices. Before she could think what to do, a pair of male hikers appeared from above. Headed straight toward her.
Despite her normal-person disguise, Cara’s brain fogged with panic.
It was too late to hide, and running into the bushes was something only an escaped prisoner would do, so she crouched and pretended she was looking at a spiny plant with a yellowish berry that looked plump and semi-edible.
Her hunger was no act. Everything was starting to look like food.
“Looks like a gooseberry,” she pronounced as they neared, as if she had any fucking idea. As if she was just another chatty hiker. “But I can’t be sure because I don’t have my guidebook.”
The two men stopped just uphill and looked at her with expressions she couldn’t quite read.
“Nothing worse than losing something important,” said the stockier one, who had a sandy beard and hair.
The other man pointed to a bush within arm’s reach. “I’m not sure what your plant is, but these are wax currants.” He was handsome and fortyish, like his friend, but taller, leaner, and tanner. Dark curls crept out from underneath his San Francisco 49ers baseball cap.
Both of them were grubby and unwashed, loaded down with full backpacks. They looked like they’d been in the backcountry long enough to have missed the news that an escaped convict was on the loose in the area.
Cara plucked a small red berry from the bush and popped it into her mouth. It was surprisingly tasteless. “How did I miss these?”
“Probably distracted by—”
“I’m Sanjay,” the darker-haired, friendlier hiker said. “He’s Devin.”
Devin scrunched his face but nodded.
Cara uttered the first name that came to mind. “Karoline. With a K.”
“Nice to meet you, Karoline with a K. I have some trail mix left if you’d like it.” Sanjay reached into the side pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a cloudy, quarter-full baggie.
Cara tried not to stare at it. “I couldn’t take your food.”
“We’re packing out after four nights up here,” Devin said, confirming her assumption. “We would have stayed one more, but that smoke in the west seems like it’s getting closer fast so we’re going to clear out.”
“Help yourself,” Sanjay said. “It’s not far to the trailhead.”
“In that case, thank you.”
She accepted the bag and its half-handful of crumbled nuts, dried fruit, and chocolate chips, willing herself not to dump the whole thing into her mouth. She could gobble it down as soon as the two men walked on.
But neither of them made any move to go.
“You might want to think about getting a move on, yourself,” Devin said. “How long have you been up here?”
Cara didn’t know how much to say, or not to. “Just a few hours. My friends are down by the river.”
“We did some fishing in a little lake. Where is there a river?”
“That way, I think,” Cara pointed in what she thought was the right direction.
Sanjay’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Look, Karoline—is everything OK?”
“Sure,” she chirped, too brightly. “Why?”
Devin looked like he wanted to comment but fiddled with the chin strap of his wide-brimmed hat instead.
“I mean, I was turned around for a little while there,” she continued, rushing on to fill the silence. “This little saddle between hills is a bit confusing, but I know where I am now.”
She really needed to get her story together, not just for these two, but anyone else she might encounter.
“Then what happened to your eye?” Sanjay asked with what seemed like genuine concern.
Cara touched her face. It was even more puffy and swollen than it had been that morning, and she could only imagine how it looked. How she looked. “Oh! I slipped while crossing a river last night and the current dragged me a little ways. I know it looks awful but really, it doesn’t hurt.”
It stung and throbbed.
The two men looked at each other, some kind of silent communication passing between them, before Devin said, “I’m glad you’re OK, but none of this explains why you’re wearing my shirt and sweatpants.”
Shit! Shit! Shit!
“I was looking for them everywhere when we packed up our campsite,” he added.
It had occurred to Cara that she could cross paths with the people whose clothing she’d taken—which was why she’d avoided the first trail. She also knew she needed to be on the lookout for a couple—but hadn’t considered that the couple sharing a sleeping bag might be a same-sex couple.
#Clueless.
“I’m so, so embarrassed,” she stammered, embellishing her story as quickly as she could, knowing it was held together by the thinnest of threads.
“My clothes got wet and were basically ruined and I . . . I didn’t have anything to change into or .
. . I would never have done it if it wasn’t absolutely necessary .
. . The truth is, I got separated from my friends and the clothes I was wearing got wet and covered in cockleburs.
I was so uncomfortable that when I spotted your tent, I couldn’t help myself.
I’m not a thief, I swear. Which reminds me . . .”
She reached into her pocket, pulled out the money she’d found, and tried to give it back.
Sanjay put his hand up, refusing. “Sounds like you need it.”
“I really can’t take it,” she said in a small voice.
“You already did,” Devin pointed out.
Sanjay gave his partner a sharp look. “Keep the money, Karoline.”
It was humiliating enough to be caught wearing Devin’s clothes. The fact that they were smelly, stained, and had money in the pockets somehow made it worse.
“I’ll repay you as soon as I can, I promise,” she told them. “If I had my cell, I’d get your contact info right now.”
“Our phones are back at the car, too,” Sanjay said.
“I told you we should have brought a SAT phone for emergencies,” Devin said.
An agree-to-disagree moment passed between them, nonverbal communication that suddenly made her heart ache for Karl and everything she thought she knew about their relationship.
What she would have given to grouse at him over gas tank levels, their different definitions of the ideal lazy Sunday, or his pet peeve, heavy appetizers for dinner in lieu of entrées because of the portion-size-to-cost ratio.
If only she could tell him she now knew that any food at all was the best deal ever.
“Your friends have to be frantic,” Devin said, his tone warmer, but still without the kindness that seemed to come so easily for his partner.
“I know they are,” she said.
She hated lying to them but had no choice. Did they even believe her?
“You’re hiking out with us,” Sanjay pronounced.
Devin was clearly not as convinced. “I’m not sure our phones even had service at the trailhead.”
“If they don’t work, we’ll take you to the nearest town so you can get in contact with someone who can let your friends know you’re safe. Plus, we can’t let you hike back toward the fire.”
Influencer Cara would have asked them a dozen questions to decide whether she could trust them, and still not trusted them at all. Escapee Cara fell in step between them, with Devin leading the way and Sanjay bringing up the rear.
As they hiked, a butterfly fluttered toward Cara and landed on her shoulder.
Adorkable, she’d always said when Karl called out the name of any flying creature he found interesting or beautiful.
Apparently, she’d paid enough attention to his nerdy hobby to recognize this particular insect as a Gray Hairstreak butterfly, whose orange markings—like backward peering eyes on the wings—were an adaptation against predators.
It had to be a sign.