Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Kincaid chuckles. “Yes. I promise.”
So with that, we all get our packs on, knowing we’re going to be heading back down instead of up.
It’s funny, being away from Madrona has helped my head clear for the first time. Not counting my bizarre sexual plant hallucinations in the forest, since I still don’t know what the fuck that was about. I decide to wrap up that moment with a little bow and shove it back in my head, where it can collect dust along with other memories I don’t want to look at ever again.
At least the hike back down goes faster than the one going up. I try to focus on the positives about returning to the lodge early, and the only one I can come up with is the fact that it’s much easier for me to sneak into Kincaid’s boat in the middle of the night instead of a tent. And that’s enough of a perk for me. Having sex with Kincaid is the only thing that feels normal these days, like he’s the only thing keeping me remotely sane.
But when we finally reach the ATVs, the weather has started to change. It’s much cooler, with a wet ocean breeze, and the clouds are stiflingly low, threatening us with rain.
Of course since we’re back early, there isn’t an extra ATV for us.
“There’s not enough room for everyone,” Kincaid says, rubbing his jaw in thought.
“I can ride in the trailer!” Munawar offers.
“Still not enough room,” Hernandez says. “We have two ATVs and three groups, so one group will have to stay behind while the other drops people off and comes back for you.”
“I have the rifle,” Kincaid says. “And I’m the only one licensed to have one. I’ll stay behind.”
And I’m not going back to the lodge alone. “I’ll stay, too,” I speak up, and I don’t give a fuck if that seems weird. I purposely avoid Lauren’s stare, but then she says, “I’ll stay too.”
“Me too,” say Munawar and Rav.
Patrick, who was with us on the way up, shrugs and says he’ll also stay.
“Now, to find out which one of you can drive an ATV,” Hernandez says, clapping his hands together.
Surprisingly Natasha raises her hand. “My parents have a dairy farm outside Chicago. I can do it.”
So Natasha gets behind the wheel, looking very comfortable, and Hernandez gets behind the other as the rest of the students pile in. They wave and drive off, leaving us in their dust.
I swallow hard. “Now what?” I say, looking at Kincaid for guidance.
“We can sit here and twiddle our thumbs, or we can get moving,” he says. “I say we get moving. I’m sure we’ll be halfway down by the time they return for us. Beats waiting.”
We start walking down the logging road. The rain seems to hold off and the wind dies down to nothing. But in its place rises the mist, condensing on everything, leaving the atmosphere cold, dank, and spooky. The forest rises up from other side of the road, but you can only see a few yards through the trees and the tops become covered in fog.
None of us say much at first, the air filling with a thick, eerie silence punctuated only by the crunching of our shoes on the dirt, and the soft clang of the bear bells. The fog seems to bring the mosquitoes, and I try to wave them away as they whine in my ears.
But as I’m doing so, something in the misty woods catches my eye.
There’s something there, something dark lurking, sliding between the trunks.
“Hey guys,” I say, raising my voice. “I might be seeing things, but is there something to our right? Look between the trees.”
Kincaid instinctively reaches back to touch his rifle as everyone looks where I’m staring.
“I don’t know, it’s hard to tell when we’re moving too,” Rav says. “Maybe we should st—?”
“No,” Kincaid cuts him off, taking the rifle off his shoulder. “No, we keep walking. We keep talking. Loudly.”
“Okay great!” Munawar says. “Because I think there’s something to our left.”
Our heads swivel to the other side of the road. I squint to see what looks like moving bushes until something rises up out of it, a black shape.
“What is that?” Lauren whispers. “Is that a bear?”
“Maybe it’s a wolf,” I say, looking back to the other side now. Whatever it is closest to me on the right, it’s staying just out of view, a murky dark shape amongst all the blackberry bushes that rustle as it brushes past. If the fog would clear a little, we would get a better look, but none of us want to venture closer.
“No, I think it’s a bear,” Kincaid says. “Two adult bears on either side of us.”
“Grizzlies?” Patrick asks in a shaky voice.
“Black bears,” Kincaid says. “Which normally stay away, as you know. They don’t want to bother us, we don’t want to bother them. They could be curious, escorting us out of their territory. That’s why they’re not coming closer.”