“Yes.”
Crew hums, the sound amused yet thoughtful. “You’re not wrong.”
“That’s not reassuring,” I mutter.
“I wasn’t trying to reassure you,” he counters.
“Wonderful,” I half chuckle, giving a little shake to my head. “Love that for me.”
Nothing follows. Not words anyway. From one moment to the next, though, the air around us changes. The familiar earthy smells of the forest morph into something sharper, some more aggressive to the senses. Acrid and bitter—like burnt eggs and regret.
“Oh.” I almost gag, slapping a hand over my mouth. “I smell it.”
“Yeah,” Crew grunts. “We’re close.”
My stomach churns sourly, threatening to upheave the two glasses of wine I had earlier in the evening. “You do know sulfur fumes can kill you, right?”
Crew nods. “I do.”
“And yet?—”
“And yet,” he parrots, “it’s either this or…”
There is noor.Burying Lance or throwing his remains into the nearest body of water doesn’t provide a permanent solution. At least, not one free of consequences. No, this is the only way, and he knows it.
“So,” I say after several silent moments. The silence feels too dangerous. “Do you…do this a lot?”
Crew glances over at me, an eyebrow arched high in question. “Carry bodies through the woods?”
“Yes, but also no. I meant more helping park ranger’s daughters clean up their…messes?”
“No.” He shakes his head, earning him a snort on my part.
“Good, because that really would’ve raised some ethical questions.”
“Your dad didn’t give me details if that’s what you’re worried about,” he follows up, returning his attention to the nonexistent path in front of us.
“I didn’t expect him to. Then again, I didn’t really know what to expect. He didn’t tell me he was sending you, or anyone else for that matter.”
“He just said you were scared,” Crew continues. “And that you needed someone who wouldn’t panic.”
I swallow. “How am I doing on that front?”
“Well, you’re still walking, right?”
“I have strong legs.”
“And a sense of humor,” he chuckles. “That helps.”
The words hit harder than I expect. I open my mouth to deflect, to joke again, but nothing comes out except a tight bob of my head. “I don’t feel brave,” I admit quietly.
“I didn’t say you were… But you’re here,” he follows up quickly. “And that counts for something.”
We walk the rest of the way in silence, the smell growing stronger by the second. The ground underfoot turns rocky and uneven as the trees thin ahead, opening into a clearing where steam curls up from fissures in the earth, pale and ghostlike in the moonlight.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but the sulfur pits are infinitely worse up close. The smell burns the back of my throat, my eyes watering like a tsunami eating up the coast as the air around us grows infinitely heavier.
Suffocatingly so.
