Chapter 7 Louise
LOUISE
My gaze swept the small crowd. Most were hunched over their GPS units, pressing buttons with gloved fingers, the soft glow of their screens flickering like fireflies in the dark. I quietly slipped into the shadows of the tree line, my boots crunching over frozen pine needles and frost-laced leaves.
Out of sight, I fished the headlamp from my backpack—a clearance-bin special I’d bought with my coveralls—and secured it to my forehead. A breath hung in the air as I cast a glance over my shoulder. No one noticed me. I clicked the lamp on.
The beam cut a narrow cone of light through the falling snow, flakes drifting lazily through the air.
I pulled out the map, stared at the color-coded grid like it was written in Latin, then stuffed it back into my pocket.
Next came the GPS unit—bulky, awkward, and definitely not a touchscreen.
I tapped, then jabbed, then pressed buttons until it beeped angrily before going completely black.
I shrugged. Just as well. The device was slightly less useful to me than the map.
I checked my phone. Still had reception, thank God. I pulled off my backpack and fumbled with the zipper. Broken, definitely broken. I shoved my phone in the side pocket, the broken GPS unit in the other, and shrugged it on again.
Peeking out from behind a tree, I watched the last of the search teams disappear down their assigned paths. No one headed my way. I figured that meant I was at least not going the wrong way.
I adjusted my headlamp and drew a long breath, the cold searing my throat. Then I stepped into the trees.
The chatter and footfalls behind me faded quickly, swallowed by the woods.
Wind rattled the bare branches overhead, and the occasional snap of ice-laden twigs made my heart stutter.
I walked slowly, carefully, the beam of my headlamp guiding the way like a spotlight through a stage of endless night.
Snow flurries swirled through the light—soft, white, silent—and then vanished into the black.
I kept walking.
Minutes blurred. The air grew colder. My muscles ached with the slow, burning throb of fatigue. My thighs screamed with each incline. I cursed myself for canceling my gym membership—who knew the treadmill would’ve come in handy after all.
Somewhere deeper in the woods, a branch cracked. Loud. Too loud. I stopped and spun around. My light cut through the darkness but caught nothing but mist and trees.
As time passed, my thoughts wandered.
I thought of Margie and the newscaster, both beautiful women who seemed to have it all together. Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect toned bodies. Trendy matching outfits that made my JanSport look like it belonged in the freebie box at the thrift store.
Truth was, I enjoyed bargain-hunting. I appreciated finding the beauty in things that people discarded or overlooked, and had made a career out of capturing beauty in unexpected places.
I imagined Margie and the newscaster spent a lot of time admiring their own beauty. Can’t blame them.
Scowling, I reached back and pulled a PayDay from my pack.
I ripped into it and devoured the sugary, caramel stick, which had become routine when I was stressed.
And because of that, I was carrying an extra twenty pounds on my small, curvy frame, weight that seemed hell-bent on staying, no matter how many times I tried to lose them.
Kara had been “cool” like Margie and the newscaster, but in a different way. Kara had an energy around her that seemed to draw people in. I admired that.
A knot tightened my throat as I thought of her, picturing her in my house, teaching me to cook. Attempting to, anyway. Hidden behind all her sharp edges, Kara was a sweet girl. Just out of practice.
I stuffed the empty PayDay wrapper in my pocket.
Silence closed in around me, broken only by the wind whispering through the trees. For the first time, I truly felt how alone I was.
Despite the cold, sweat gathered at my scalp, nerves prickling beneath my skin. I kept checking my phone—still had reception.
Just as Aaron had warned, the terrain shifted.
The forest thinned, replaced by jagged gray rock and frozen earth.
My boots crunched against the ground as I pushed on, the path steeper now, less forgiving.
The wind stung my eyes and I wiped them with the back of my glove, scratching my cheek on the Velcro.
But I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t.
Something was pulling me forward all of the sudden. A weird sense of urgency, of knowing I was going in the right direction.
I could feel her.
The beam from my headlamp bounced with each step, a strobe light against the oaks and pines I was maneuvering through. Ahead, I spotted a larger opening in the trees, and a cluster of boulders centered among soaring pines. Massive, jagged rocks speared up from the earth.
I stopped. Something shifted in the air. The atmosphere changed, heavy and charged, as though I’d crossed some invisible threshold.
Go back, whispered a voice in my head.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
The wind fell silent. An unnatural stillness settled over everything.
Then—
The smell hit me.
Rot.
Death.
I climbed onto a boulder that was ice-cold to the touch, my entire body shaking as my gaze followed the beam from my headlamp.
That’s when I saw her.
Her naked body looked like a rag doll, her arms and legs bent at odd angles around the peaks of the rocks she’d been thrown onto.
Her head was twisted awkwardly, her neck obviously broken.
Her blond hair was fanned out like a spiderweb spun from her head, slashed across gray skin.
Her mouth was gaping open. The skin and muscle had been chewed from her limbs, and one foot was completely gone, bone and all. It was the left foot.
Her once sparkling blue eyes were now simply two empty black holes, pecked out by the birds.
I’d found her.
I’d found Kara Meyers.