Chapter Thirteen
Sommer
Bobbing along with their glowing red lights, half of their team looking to the right, half to the left, they had only one job: to figure out if the kids were wandering near the trail.
It was a good trail, one Sommer liked.
Wide and clean, there were no trees to step over; some service group had come through and made sure all the roots were flush with the path.
The incline was a challenge on a day hike.
Adrenaline had run through her system for the first hour.
But Sommer knew that with an adrenaline spike came the unintended crash.
It would be better for Sommer’s already taxed system to ease the sense of immediate threat to the children.
She did that by focusing on her task at hand and winging out the magical manifestation thoughts that Abbie liked to talk about.
For Sommer, she threw out thoughts of yummy food, nice warm drinks, cozy blankets, and loving hugs, and then she called the children to put themselves in front of searchers’ eyes.
It didn’t have to be her team, but some team.
On the way home, when she was in private, Sommer would ask Abhie about that strategy.
Was Sommer a woo-woo person?
She wasn’t against it.
For fun, she might sprinkle some salt over her threshold under the next full moon. After all, she hung bells at her front door, stirred her pots clockwise, and had a collection of rocks that she’d picked up on trails and brought home because she thought they felt friendly.
Now that she lived in a storybook witch’s cottage in the woods, maybe she’d embrace a little intentionality and symbolism to manifest a bit of good magic in her life.
All the way up, the rhythmic trudge of feet and the whisper of wind through the evergreens had been the only sound.
Wendy had called their assignment a “hasty,” and maybe in daylight that meant a certain speed. At night, they had moved slowly. And they needed to, since they were searching for children who might have curled up in the leaves to sleep. Their team’s eyes needed enough time to focus in the shadows.
They were diligent hour after hour, stopping when Wendy stopped to sit, snack, and rehydrate.
Throughout the night, no hand went up in the air.
Wendy had said that a service club had been up that trail a week ago and cleaned along the route. She said that any piece of wrapper or bottle might be a clue that the children had been through that area.
But they found nothing.
It felt wrong.
All the walking, all the looking, all the silent prayers that the good angels nudge the kids onto the path so they’d be seen and cared for … it felt empty.
At least when someone came into the emergency department, there were tasks to do. Good outcome or bad, she would have done her work to the best of her ability.
Sommer felt like she’d given it her best effort, and nothing came of it. Not a damned thing. People who did search and rescue had to have a certain kind of mindset that allowed them to effort without reward.
The summit came at the moment the sky shifted to its first colors of the new day.
They were farther into the field than any child could have reached even if they had started hours in advance.
But Wendy had addressed that as the team was leaving the base: “It’s better to finish the trail and be sure.
When people were frightened, they can move fast and go far without registering the effort. ”
Wendy said she’d found an elderly subject who walked with canes, twenty miles from their care facility, and that children had lost their lives because they had moved beyond the established search parameter.
So now, when they had enough volunteers, the management team liked to take things to the max possibility.
“Okay, this is the end of our grid. We’ll sit here and rest up before the hike down.
I suggest a meal instead of a snack. I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but I’m going to go down my checklist. This is a good time to eat and drink, wander off, find a tree to squat under, and have a pee.
I have toilet paper if you forgot yours.
In the dim light, I wouldn’t snatch up the handy leaves because we’re in poison ivy territory and no one needs that kind of discomfort. ”
A tired titter went up among the women as they pulled off their packs and dropped to the ground to rest.
“How is everyone doing?” Wendy asked. “If you have any hot spots on your feet, or if you have blisters, I’d like you to go ahead and take care of that.
And I’m going to say it now so I’m sure you heard it before you’re even more tired—ticks are out.
You want to be extra careful with your tick checks when you get off the mountain.
Half an hour, then we’ll head down.” Then Wendy dropped down to sit with her back resting against her pack.
Those thirty minutes were agitating to Sommer.
She didn’t like the idea that the kids were out in the woods alone and scared. Those images made her want to press on.
But Sommer got it. If they didn’t stop and take care of themselves, their team might become accident-prone or mistake the trail and head into the woods, becoming part of the problem like the flip-flop dudes.
Sommer looked over at Abbie and Marna to get their take, but both had curled up over their bags and were catching a cat nap. It was probably a good idea, but Sommer would settle for taking off her boots and socks and letting her feet breathe for a bit in the cool morning air.
The search leader was on the radio, telling the managers their location, the number of people she had with her, and her plan for resting and searching along the way back.
Sommer pulled her water tube around and drank deeply, asking herself whether, if she got the call again, she would go.
It was an instant yes. Of course she would. But she’d set the expectations differently in her mind.
With the rest time almost up, she roused her friends to go pee. “Hey, we’re about to head back down the mountain. We didn’t talk about what came next, but we can’t drive home after this. We need to find someplace nearby and get some sleep.”
“No argument from me,” Marna said as she flipped onto all fours into cat-camel and groaned deeply.
“Same.” Abbie reached out so Sommer would help heft her up. “I’ll be glad for a shower and sheets. Sleep sounds so good.”
Marna pointed toward the sky and stilled.
A moment later, Sommer heard it too, distant baying. She turned to Wendy. “Is that a dog team? Do you think they found something?”
“They have a K9 team searching between our trail and Chittering Trail. Sound like they're almost to the ridgeline.” She turned toward the sound. “No, that just sounds like trail sounds. The dogs get a lot more excited as they move toward a scent. We’re downwind so we won’t interfere in their search.
Management has to figure all that out when they’re tasking teams.”
As they pulled their packs on, Abbie said, turning to Sommer, “You know, I was thinking about the opera singing hound. You were saying you want to go on vacation.”
“That’s a leap. But, yes, I’d love to go to the Bahamas if I had the dinero.” Sommer jumped to get her pack into position, then reached for her hip belt.
“What if you had some free money come in?”
Marna dragged her second strap over her shoulder and looked down as she attached the sternal strap. “No such thing as free.”
“Okay, there would be effort involved. You remember that video I put up of the butterfly landing on my cat’s nose? It went mega viral, and like I told you, I got six thousand.”
“Wait.” Marna reached out and grabbed Abbie’s arm. “Six thousand likes or six thousand dollars?”
“Dollars.” Abbie grinned.
“What did you do with it?” Sommer asked, picturing herself on a chaise longue sipping an umbrella drink and wondering what Abbie had in mind to make that happen.
“Retirement account.” Abbie turned back to Sommer. “This is exactly the thing that could go viral. I could video you singing.”
“You are not putting my face in some video you want shared around,” Sommer said, instantly popping the picture of her day under the Caribbean sun and coming back to reality.
“We can put you in a dress, barefoot, hair in soft curls covering most of your face. All we see is your nose and mouth. Pretty lipstick.”
“After this, Abbie will move to Hollywood to direct a feature film,” Marna said.
Abbie wrinkled her nose at Marna, then turned back to Sommer.
“I film you singing the song. I layer in the dog singing along from what you captured with your doorbell camera. Then, as you sing, you walk over to your phone or whatever and look through the doorbell camera, and there we have a guy and a dog. Better if it’s a cute guy. ”
“It was late at night, and he was standing in the shadow of the trees.”
“But a silhouette? A nice one?”
“As silhouettes go, it was fantastic.” Sommer deadpanned.
“You need a name for the account,” Marna said.
“Not about me or opera,” Sommer said. “That would turn people off.”
“Agreed,” Abbie said. “Something about the guy. Something with a hook. What would you name the guy?”
“Graves,” Marna said.
“Oooh, I like that,” Abbie said.
“Graves and the Goth-hound,” Sommer said.
“Done.” Abbie brushed her hands together. “Those names will make for good hashtags. And yours?”
“My what?”
“I have to put some name on the account, something like Bleak Night. Maybe with a K: Bleak Knights.”
“Mourning Notes,” Marna said, “With an ou for grief.”
“I like Mourning Notes better,” Abbie said.
“I don’t really care,” Sommer said. “Do whatever. But the howling thing didn’t go on very long.”
“Videos are very short—thirty seconds. If you have longer, that’s good because we can make several videos.”
“It might get nothing,” Sommer said, as Wendy started down the trail.
“Fine, so we wasted an hour,” Abbie countered. “Or it might just get a couple million views like Miss Priss did when she was sitting with the flowers and the butterfly landed.”
They let the other teammates file past.
“Nowadays, people wouldn’t believe that happened. They’d think it was AI,” Marna said.
“I hate not knowing what is real and what isn’t. It’s too much damned work,” Abbie held out her pack to Marna, who held it in place while Abbie wiggled into the straps.
“What do you think?” Abbie asked Sommer. “Should we try?”
“Sure. Why not? I’m not actually expecting a vacation out of the effort, but I don’t see how it would hurt to try.”