Page 68 of Last Light

“Not a big deal, is it?” He looks genuinely curious. “Or do you have a real rough time of it? Cheryl would hurt somethin’ awful.”

“I don’t normally have a rough time. Just some cramps on the first day or two. But still. I’ve gone all these months without it, and it decides to come back now? While we’re on this endless road trip? It couldn’t have waited another couple of weeks?”

He slants me a strange look, but his voice is mild as he says, “At least you got that stuff we found in the drugstore.”

I perk up a bit as I remember the pack of tampons in my bag, realizing how much worse it could be. “That’s true. And we’ve got plenty of ibuprofen, so that should help the cramps. Good thing we thought ahead. And I guess we know I’m not pregnant.”

Travis makes a soft huff.

I glance back at the sleeping bag. “What a mess. Sorry about that. Should have realized what was happening earlier.”

“You were asleep.” He pulls the sleeping bag off the mattress. “It’ll wash.”

***

WE STAY ON THE TRAILwe’ve been following for most of the day. It’s going through the woods, and the mountains are sometimes steep, but it’s better than being in danger on the roads.

We talk even less than usual. Travis seems to be in a reflective mood, and I’m not feeling good at all. My cramps are worse than I remember, maybe because it’s been so long since I’ve had my period. I’m not very hungry at lunchtime, but Travis bullies me into eating half a protein bar. He eats the rest and some of the jerky.

In the middle of the afternoon, the trail we’ve been following runs smack into a river.

It’s a real river. Not a creek or a stream.

“Gotta be the Kentucky River,” Travis says as he puts the Jeep in park and we both stare at the wide expanse of moving water. “I’m an idiot. Not sure why I didn’t realize it’d still be here and we’d have to get across it.”

“I didn’t think about it either. We’ve been looking at a road map, so we were focusing on the roads.” I look back and forth along the length of it. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to cross right here.”

“Nope. Gonna have to find a bridge.”

“That means a road.”

“I know.” He looks grim, matching how I’m feeling myself.

I don’t have any delusions about magically finding a spot we can cross this river. There might be fordable spots, but there’s no guarantee they’ll be anywhere close to where we are.

Both Travis and I are from mountains a lot like these. We know what it takes for a river to claw a place for itself out of rock over millions of years. There’s no gentle bank to this river. It’s surrounded on both sides by nearly vertical drops. Even if we could get through the water, there’s no way our vehicle is going to scale those slopes.

“Right or left?” Travis asks, glancing over at me.

I shrug. “Right? That’s the way it looks like the trail goes. But what the hell do I know?”

“You know ’bout as much as me.” He turns to the right and drives parallel to the river. There’s not really a trail. Just packed dirt and some freedom from the encroaching half-dead trees.

We drive for thirty minutes, and I’m starting to despair that we’ll never see anything but trees and sky and the muddy water of the river.

Then I catch a glimpse of something in the distance.

“Look!” I point. “Is that an old bridge?”

“Don’t know. It’s somethin’.”

He speeds up until we see that it is indeed an old bridge.

We also see at the same time that it’s totally impassable now.

“Thing must be a hundred years old,” Travis mutters, his face reflecting my disappointment. “Must’ve been a road passin’ through here at some point, but it’s mostly grown over now.”

He gestures behind us, and I see the dirt and gravel he’s talking about. There was a road.

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