Page 23 of Bones

“Damn,” I whispered before jolting at a loud noise behind me.

A close noise.

I was about to dodge around the moose, but then he moved. Not away from the narrow path I wanted to take, just his head. He jerked it to the side like he was using his antlers to gesture to the other route.

I’m losing my mind.

I took another shuffling step forward, then jumped back when he slammed his heavy hoof down. He jerked his head the same way again.

Coincidence or not, he made it clear he wouldn’t flee from me, so I had no choice but to change my course instead. I took off in the direction his antlers pointed, throwing caution to the moose.

And then I immediately wiped out on slick mud, slamming my face into a protruding root.

“Stupid moose,” I muttered as tears spilled down my cheeks.

My arms shook as I pushed myself from the ground, and it didn’t improve once I was on my wobbly legs. I had to keep going. First at as fast of a run as I could muster. Then at a steady jog. When that became too strenuous, I slowed to a normal walk before a sluggish one.

I wonder if I can find a spot to rest?

Or would that result in a tortoise-and-the-hare situation, just with a lot more dire of an ending?

I continued forward as long as I could, hoping for the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. I would settle for another clearing.

But neither came. It was nothing but darkness, making me realize it wasn’t as bad as when I’d woken up in the woods after my accident…

It was so much worse.

This was a mistake.

I thought about Ryan’s plan and the vision I’d seen.

Never mind.

Dying in the woods is preferable.

When I found a dry spot, I sat and leaned against a thick tree to rest. The cold air against my flushed skin felt wonderful at first, but since my thin dress offered little protection, it quickly shifted from refreshing to feeling like I was an icicle. I didn’t want to think about the bugs and who knew what else that were likely inching closer. If I had any luck, my shivering would keep them off me.

My blinks became slower until my heavy lids refused to open, but I didn’t sleep. I stayed alert.

And that was how I heard it in the distance.

Rustling.

Loudrustling from something heavier than a cute chipmunk.

Ryan?

The moose?

Something else?

Of those options, I hoped it was the moose, but I wasn’t about to sit around to find out.

It took effort, but I eventually got to my feet. Not for the first time, I wished I’d grabbed my coat. Or changed from my dress and cute flats into something functional.

Like running shoes and a sweatsuit with full-body mesh bug protection.

I took off in a run, going the opposite direction of the noise’s source—or where I guessed it to be—before eventually slowingagain so I could hear over my pounding heart, embarrassingly dramatic pants, and the blood rushing in my ear.

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