Prologue
Memorial Day Weekend, 2005
“This is it!” Beth broke the foreboding silence, quickening her pace on the trail at the front of the group.
The four of us had hiked without a word for the last several hours, the weight of leaving Courtney behind hanging over us like a death cloud, leaving no room for conversation.
Beth pointed ahead. “I remember that log with the mushrooms on it being on the path at the start of our hike.”
“That’s what you said yesterday,” Emma said, her curly blond ponytail swaying from the breeze as she took an athletic stride over the log a few feet in front of me. Despite her knee injury, I was having trouble keeping up with her.
Beth’s steps shifted from a walk to a near run.
“What if you’re wrong?” Emma called after her.
We all knew the answer, even though none of us spoke it.Then we’ll stay lost out here. Without food. And no way to call for help.
My stomach growled. It had been twenty-four hours since I finished my last protein bar. I was so hungry it hurt. That morning, I’d woken to the sound of Emma puking beside my tent after she ate what she thought were salmonberries but were apparently something else. This morning, Emma had hiked the first few miles hunched over, stopping to throw up two more times, leaving the rest of us too scared to try anyof the berries we saw along the path. But if we were stuck out here much longer, we were going to have to risk it until we figured out which ones were edible.
I spotted a squirrel scampering up a moss-covered tree and envisioned myself throwing a rock at its head before it disappeared around the other side of the trunk. I then imagined roasting its tiny body over a fire and immediately pushed the thought away, surprising myself as much by my urge to kill as my desire to eat meat when I had prided myself on being a vegetarian for the last two years.
The only plus side to my hunger pangs was the distraction they provided from the painful blister on my heel that had burst a few miles back.
I stepped over the log Beth had sped past but had no memory of seeing it at the start of our trip. However, it felt like a lifetime ago with everything that had happened since then, so I kept the thought to myself.
I thought of Courtney, the only one of us not making it out of the woods. How could I be so selfish, worrying about my next meal? I imagined Courtney’s body, lying dead on the damp forest floor, her cold, decaying carcass ravaged by wolves before being picked apart by scavengers. Vomit rose to the back of my throat.
I started at a grunt behind me. I spun around, heart racing as I envisioned the massive cougar I’d encountered yesterday when all I’d had to defend myself was the engraved pocketknife Courtney had given me at the start of the trip—thankfully, the wild beast moved on to something else.
I spotted Gigi on her hands and knees on the dirt path, her long dirty-blond bangs half covering the painful grimace on her face. “I can’t go any farther! What the hell were we thinking? We’re going to be lost out here forever.” She broke into a sob as she lowered her head toward the path. “My blisters are killing me.”
For as long as I’d known her, Gigi had never done well with pain. Looking at her, I was filled with frustration. My heels were raw, too, but her growing panic wasn’t doing anything to help us.
“Here, let me help you.” Begrudgingly, I dropped beside Gigi and draped her lanky arm over my shoulder before pulling her to her feet.
“Need more help?” Emma asked.
I shook my head, practically dragging Gigi along the path as she winced in pain with each step.
“Just a little farther,” I told her, hoping it was the truth.
“It better be,” Emma said. “If Beth led us the wrong wayagain, I’m going to lose my shit.”
“I see the van!” Beth cried.
“Thank God,” Gigi muttered.
I let go of Gigi and hurried after Emma, slowing when I emerged from the tree-lined path onto the gravel parking lot. Straight ahead was Beth’s minivan, parked in the same spot we’d left it and still the only car in the remote trailhead parking area. My lungs deflated with relief. I hunched forward, keeping my eyes fixed on the white vehicle while resting my palms on my knees.
I straightened, my relief muddled with guilt when it struck me that we would be driving out of here with one less person.
Emma turned to me as Gigi hobbled out of the woods. “Check your signal.”
I slid my backpack strap off my aching shoulder, unzipped the front pocket, and turned on my phone as we continued toward the van. It seemed like an eternity as I waited for the screen to light up.
“No service,” I said, lifting my phone in the air.
“Let’s go.” Beth opened the driver’s door. “We’ll drive until we get one.”
