Page 75 of Wild Child
I stumbled over a rock as we neared the edge of the meadow. Devin grabbed my shoulder with a little hiss, then yanked me the rest of the way to the ground. My breath rushed out of me, but movement out of the corner of my eye sealed my lips shut before I could protest. On our stomachs, Devin pointed to the northeast, not far from where we'd first made camp.
"Steve," he mouthed.
My stomach twisted with a cold fist of dread. We held our breaths to listen. At first, I heard nothing. Then a voice, which definitely belonged to Steve. And another voice.
Kimball.
With a deep sigh, I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead onto a rock in disbelief. No. Way. Somehow, they'd made their way back to our original campsite at the exact same time as us?
Devin had gone on full alert, his hands pressed into the ground as he occasionally rose up to see them, then lowered back down.
"They're thirty yards away," he murmured. "Not aware of us as far as I can tell. No signs of a new camp, but I can't be sure. They may have just arrived."
"Do they have our bags?" I whispered.
He hesitated, peered up again, then nodded. "Steve has your bag on his back. He's taking it off. Not sure about mine yet. No sign of any of the other guys, but I'd bet they split off from each other."
"I hope their shoes are melted and their feet are burned raw from the fire," I muttered.
Dev snorted.
We'd just been loudly tromping through the trees, talking about me visiting him. A promise that our life after this would be filled with each other. Now that was all thrown back into question again. The frustration set me on edge.
"What do you suggest?" I asked.
"We lay low. They're probably here to backtrack and get to their truck, just like us."
Their figures were distant enough we couldn't see all the details, but at least I could see that they hadn't moved. Steve seemed to lounge against a tree. Kimball, sitting on a stump or something.
"So why aren't they going already?"
He shrugged. "Not sure. Maybe a break."
"Can we tail them? Follow them down the mountain? If they have my bag, we can get my keys that way."
Devin's mind moved behind his glassy eyes, and I wondered if he shared my thoughts. My pack had the radio, my phone, the truck keys, water, food—if they hadn't eaten it all—and a permanent escape. Without that bag, we could still be another day or two from eating, depending on how long it took us to travel the road back.
We could skirt around them and get down the mountain first, but then what? If they had the truck keys and we had to walk, they'd eventually pass us on the road. Unless we walked in the trees and avoided the road, but that would only prolong our time out here. Now, they even blocked our water access.
In other words, we needed that pack.
Devin stared, gaze tapered into slashes. His fingers had curled around a clump of weeds and tightened in thought. I pushed off the ground to peer over the top of the grass. Two figures shifted along the far tree line, seemingly oblivious to our presence. Steve stood against a tree, my pack at his feet. Kimball regarded something in his hands. A radio, perhaps? Who would they speak to out here? I doubted they kept in contact with the other scrawny cronies.
I lowered back down. Just the sight of them made me want to throw up.
"Dev? We have to get that pack."
His hand released the grip around the grass. He turned to me, blinking out of deep thoughts, and said, "I have a plan."
* * *
Ten minutes later, my heart hammered in my throat. I crouched behind a chokecherry bush, then hustled behind another. I stepped carefully and swung a wide path behind Steve and Kimball. They spoke quietly and only intermittently, mere flashes of grubby color amongst the foliage.
Silently, I stalked through the forest on my hands and knees, close enough to see them, but far enough they wouldn’t hear me. Based on their loud voices and lack of attention, they likely hadn't noticed anything. Heat rose from the ground, dampening the air from the dissipating morning dew. Not a hint of wind stirred to provide sound cover. My breath landed like bombs.
When I thought I’d found the right spot Devin told me to take, I paused. Their voices were still audible, though muffled. After a few seconds to ensure no one else crept up on me, I ducked down to crawl toward Kimball and Steve. Rocks poked the sensitive skin on my thighs, bruising muscles and skin as I hurried over them. Dirt coated my palms and stirred my nostrils with a dry scent. I dodged grasses and bushes as best I could to avoid jostling them and inched along in an excruciating crawl.
What felt like an eternity later, I stared at Steve’s back from no less than fifteen feet away.
