“Just peachy!” I shouted back, struggling to untangle myself from the vines that had ensnared my legs like a trap. “You know, this is exactly what I signed up for.”
“Need a hand?” he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Only if you plan on pulling me out without getting stuck yourself!” I retorted, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
“Alright, alright, let me see what I can do.” He stepped forward, crouching down as he reached for me, careful to avoid getting caught in the vines himself.
“Just be careful,” I warned, a flash of concern crossing my mind. “These things are like living creatures.”
“I’m not afraid of a little greenery,” he said, and with a swift tug, he pulled me free.
I stumbled forward, regaining my balance as I turned to face him.
“See? Easy peasy,” he said, brushing off his hands as if nothing had happened.
“Yeah, if by ‘easy peasy’ you mean nearly face-planting into a bush, then sure,” I replied, shaking my head. “You’re a real pro at this.”
“Just wait until we find the river,” he said, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. “That’ll really be something to see.”
“I’m sure it’ll be breathtaking,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Especially if we end up as bear bait on the way there.”
“Optimism isn’t your strong suit, is it?” he quipped, nudging me with his elbow as he stepped ahead again.
“Optimism doesn’t come naturally when you’re navigating through a jungle of doom,” I shot back, feeling my irritation simmer beneath the surface. “But I guess I should thank you for the guided tour.”
“Anytime, Amelia. Just think of this as character building.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes again.
“Character building? More like a crash course in how to getlost and potentially die,” I said, glancing around at the impenetrable thicket. “What’s next? An obstacle course of angry wildlife?”
“Now that sounds fun.” he replied with mock enthusiasm. “Let’s add some fire-breathing dragons while we’re at it.”
“Perfect. I’ll bring the marshmallows,” I said dryly, pushing through another thick patch of vines that seemed to reach out and grab at my clothes.
Caiden rolled his eyes and shook his head as we continued to push through the tangled underbrush, our banter a temporary reprieve from the reality of our situation.
We pressed on until the underbrush relented and the woods yawned open, exposing a clearing bruised with sunlight and trailing mist.
Here, the wilderness felt less like a deathtrap and more like a sick joke. An endless stage for our misery.
Caiden stopped at the clearing’s edge, scanning the tree line with a narrowed gaze. I caught up, shoving past a curtain of wet leaves, my shoes squelching their disapproval.
He pointed to the right. “See that? Looks like a trail.”
It looked like nothing. A faint rut in the grass, half-swallowed by new growth and the detritus of storms. I wanted to tell him this was pointless, that wilderness didn’t yield to willpower.
But I was too exhausted to argue, so I just followed him, each step a silent dare to the universe to try harder.
We moved in a daze, careful not to make the pain of hunger and thirst the center of conversation, though it gnawed at us with every step.
I began to fixate on the brutality of it: the ache in my temples, the gritty burn in my throat, the way every tree looked like the last, and how the world had shrunk to the space between my back and Caiden’s.
I hated how much I needed him out here. I hated that I couldn’t even hate him fully, not anymore, not after he’d dragged me from the river, hauled me through panic attacks, and caught me when I nearly flung myself to a rocky death.
ButI still despised him, and I could sense that he despised me too despite our briefness of bickering and teasing earlier.
Dusk arrived with no fanfare, only the gradual suffocation of light as the sky bruised itself from blue to black.
We finally broke free from the grasp of the thick brush, stumbling into a clearing where the ground sloped downward in a shallow bowl.
