Page 39 of Dark Roads
“No. Stay.”
I slid the dirt bike into the sheltered area under the base of a tree, covered it with garbage bags, then with branches—however many I could hack off the nearby trees. I didn’t know when I would be able to come back. I marked one of the tree limbs with Wolf’s bandanna.
I trudged through snowdrifts that felt like quicksand, sucking at my boots, holding me in place until I wrenched myself free. I carried Wolf on my shoulders with the blanket over him. His head was tucked into the fur of my hood. Blinding snow blew into my eyes. My fingers grew numb inside my gloves. I breathed hard as I climbed up a hill, sliding down onto my knees, then stumbling back to my feet. Wind pummeled the center of my back, swept through breaks in the forest, and came at me from the side. I wanted to make it to the lower camp, where I could try the radio again, but the trail had disappeared. I stopped and spun around. There had to besomethingthatwould help me navigate. I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me. The world had turned white.
I tripped over a buried log, and Wolf slipped from my shoulders, landing in a drift and nearly sinking out of my reach. His fur was clumped with snow. I lifted him into my arms and staggered a few more feet. I couldn’t do it. The snow was coming too fast. We had to hide in a tree well. Once the storm ended, I’d recognize the lay of the land again.
My eyelashes were clumped with ice. My face stung. I found a pocket of space below a big fir tree, cut down branches, and placed them around us, weaving them together to form walls and a roof. For a marker, I ripped the bottom off my shirt and tied it to the tree. There were two outdoor emergency blankets in my backpack. I unfolded the thin silver material and used one to line the roof. More branches went underneath to keep our bodies off the cold ground. Near the entrance to our snow cave, I built a fire with tinder and broken branches that I found along the trunk of the tree. I wrapped my second emergency blanket around us.
We huddled together through the night. I tried the VHF radio over and over, but only got static in return. The fire died and I ran out of dry wood. The wind had not let up. The world grew silent as the snow built up around the shelter and cocooned us. I couldn’t stop shivering.
I took my journal out of my backpack and tucked it into my inside pocket. If someone found my body, they would know who I was. They would know about Vaughn. It was getting harder to stay awake. My eyelids kept drifting closed. The VHF radio was clutched in my hand.
Wolf pawed at me and licked my face.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.” I prayed Wolf would survive. My body could keep him warm for a while. He hadthick fur, but he was fighting that infection, and he hadn’t eaten in days. He pressed against my chest, his cheek alongside mine, breathing puffs of warmth into my neck. I wasn’t cold anymore. I had no sensation in my feet or hands. Tired. So tired.
I dreamed of being at the lake with Amber. The scent of her skin. Coconut. Her hair, cherry-red fire, floating across her beautiful lips. We’d had one perfect kiss. I’d had it all in that moment. Long summer days. Swimming with Jonny. My body felt warm now. I was basking in the sun, my face lifting, soaking up the rays. I could hear our dirt bikes whizzing around the track. Louder and louder. Drowning out everything. The hum through my body like electricity.
We used to go so fast. No one could beat us.
PART TWO
CHAPTER 15
Beth
SEPTEMBER 2018
Beth pushed open the door, carefully balancing the cardboard tray of coffees, and cursed as someone bumped into her. The last thing she needed was a stain on her white blouse. She only had two good suits, rotated them religiously, and sponged them clean in her tiny bathroom.
More office workers jostled her on their way in for their Skinny Vanilla Lattes or Matcha Green Tea Frappuccinos. You couldn’t turn a block in Vancouver without tripping over a coffee shop.
She let go of the door and smiled apologetically as it swung into a hipster, then she wove in and out of the crowded sidewalk, passing businesspeople, yogis, tourists with cameras. She glanced at her watch. Five minutes to get to the office. She picked up her pace, enjoying the click of her heels on concrete. Some days she still felt like she was playacting at being a grown-up.
Her cell chirped in her purse. She frowned. She would have to pause to answer it, which would delay her, but what if it was one of the lawyers? Someone with a last-minute craving for a gluten-free muffin. No. They would be too busy prepping for the meeting. She kept walking.
The phone chirped again. Stopped. Then chirped again. Only one person was that persistent. Beth tucked herself against a building, set the tray of coffees on a ledge, and pulled out herphone. Amber’s photo flashed across the screen. Beth swiped to answer.
“Hey, what’s going on? I’m working.”
“I thought you were interning.”
“Same thing.” She was mostly fetching coffees and sitting in on meetings, but that didn’t sound nearly as impressive. Every morning Beth walked past the lawyers in their big offices and told herself she’d belong there too one day. Okay, a lot more days. Three years and she’d have her undergraduate degree. Then she could apply to law school. She just had to stay the course.
“Are you going to church Sunday?”
“Unfortunately.”
“How do you stand it?” Beth knew Amber was talking about the obligatory parental lunch after the service. Neither Amber nor Beth were particularly God-fearing, but even church wasn’t as boring as passing food back and forth over a table while their mom and dad made small talk about the sermon, weather, and how the tomatoes were doing this year. Beth and Amber used to flip coins over who got to have the fake illness or last-minute shift at work.
“Since you abandoned me, I don’t have a choice.” Beth said the words lightly, but she meant it. She missed her little sister, even if she understood why she left.
“Sorry.” Amber sighed. “I know I stuck you with it.”
Beth glanced at her watch. She would have to walk and talk. She picked up the tray, tensing her fingers underneath to hold it level, and moved down the street.
“Is everything okay?”
