Crossing the Deep

Crossing the Deep

by Kelly Martin

Published by Astraea Press

www.astraeapress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

CROSSING THE DEEP

Copyright © 2012 KELLY MARTIN

ISBN 978-1-62135-084-2

Cover Art Designed by AM DESIGN STUDIOS

To God: without Him none of this would have happened.

To my daughters: I love you! Thank you for being so excited and so patient.

To my Mama, my husband, my sisters, and my in-laws: Thank you for encouraging me.

To Kathy for reading every draft of this book and for being there through each step of this wild ride.

And to my Daddy: I wish you could have been here to see this. You would have been proud.

Prologue

He bent down to the ground, lungs burning from exhaustion and terror. This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything they’d gone through.

With shaking fingers, Asher moved the ginger hair stuck to the girl’s face. Losing her was not an option — not this girl he had grown to care about despite his best efforts to avoid it. Her lifeless body screamed at him for help, which he tried but failed to give. He had done everything he knew to do, and it wasn’t good enough.

Asher fell back on the ground, not taking his eyes away from her. There had to be something he could do. He couldn’t let her die out here. He loved her too much.

Chapter One

Early
Friday Morning: Four days before…

Asher Jenkins shouldn’t have been in the church van. He was neither religious nor a church member, two qualities everyone else on the trip shared. Asher knew all too well there were worse places he could be, much worse places, and that realization put him in the seat next to his best friend, Sid.

Sid’s brother, Pastor David, drove the van filled with eight teenagers and two other chaperones, heading from small Grant, Georgia to a weekend of hiking and fellowship in the mountains of East Tennessee.

It had been a long ride, giving Asher plenty of time to think. When that happened, his mind wandered to unpleasant things he’d rather forget. He leaned against the window, felt the cool glass on his forehead, and wondered what he’d gotten himself into.

“Are we there yet?”

“Seriously?” David Andrews laughed from the driver’s seat of the dark gray, fifteen-seat van. “Are we two?”

“Sid is,” Asher smiled, glancing at his friend.

“Et tu, Asher?” Sid said with mock horror, causing Asher’s smile to broaden. He leaned over the seat and yelled at David. “Hey brother, if you’re tired, I can always drive for you. Just sayin’.”

“One, if I needed a break, I’d let Susan drive,” he said, motioning to the forty-something, bottle blonde riding in the shotgun seat. Asher had only met her right before the trip, and her voluptuous physical appearance reminded him of a certain larger than life country singer, in a good way.

“And two,” David went on, “you just got your license last week. No way are you driving this brand new van, rental or not. Mrs. Reba would kill me.”

“Mrs. Reba will never know.”

“She will if you wreck it, and I have to grovel before the church treasurer, begging for mercy,” David said with a hint of laughter in his voice.

David had an easy-going personality, one that drew you in. He was a very likeable person, a fact that he used to his advantage when talking about God and salvation. Asher appreciated the fact that David never pushed either on him. All in all, he liked David. The youth pastor never gave him a reason not to like him. In fact, Asher had spent more time at David’s house hanging out with Sid than his own. His aunt didn’t mind him being gone so much. She seemed to prefer it.

“Party pooper,” Sid moaned and propped his knees up on the seat in front of him. They sat in the second row of seats on the right side of the van. A narrow aisle separated each side.

The Andrews brothers were close even if they were eight years apart. David’s hair had an Old World look to it: a slight pompadour-style poof in the front. Sid’s was brown, a few shades lighter than Asher’s. But unlike Asher’s, which fell a little over his ears and needed a trim, Sid’s was a curly mess. Older brother David was an all-American looking guy, and Sid… well Sid wasn’t.

Sidney’s eyes were the same color as Asher’s — sky blue. Unlike Asher, though, Sid wore much needed, black-rimmed glasses. Sid wasn’t a nerd in any way, shape, or form. But he hadn’t been blessed in the looks or sight department like his brother or Asher had been.

One thing Sid and David did have in common was their trip attire. Everyone in the van looked about the same. Sure, their clothes varied in color, but they all had big, bulky coats and hiking boots.

Asher was the exception. His decision to go on the trip was very last minute, and he didn’t have time to shop or plan. What he had came from David. Asher’s black leather jacket didn’t scream “hiking trip”, and his black boots weren’t of the hiking quality. At least he had a long sleeved shirt on, even if it was just a regular white one and not a warm, sweater type. He knew he stuck out like a sore thumb, and he tried not to care.

With his head against the window and his eyes closed, Asher blissfully heard Sid click off the overhead light and settle back down in his seat. Maybe he’d go to sleep for a little while. Asher sure hoped so. He loved Sid like a brother, but that boy could talk a person’s ear off. The topic of conversation all through the night had been Sid’s messy break-up with fellow traveler, Carly Jones, a few days before.

Hearing his friend’s breathing ease, Asher peeked under his eyelashes. Sure enough, Sid slept, his head lulled to the side. Now that Sid had turned off the dim but annoying light, Asher could see that only one or two others were awake. For a van full of teenagers, it was quiet. Of course, it was just 6:00 a.m.

David manned the wheel, and Asher hoped he was wide awake and full of caffeine. In addition to the youth pastor, he saw a light coming from some sort of electronic device; a computer tablet or e-reader, a row back on the other side of the van. Curious, he rose up a bit to see over his seat. Whatever it was gave off enough light to see that it was a girl. He thought her name was Rachel.

****

Rachel Harker’s mind wasn’t on sleep. It was on the hike, and how she had gotten talked into going. She had known about the hiking trip ever since Pastor David mentioned it two months earlier during youth service. At the time, she didn’t want to go. Even though the Smokies were only an eight-hour drive away from home, she hadn’t been in years. Returning to the mountain at some point in time had been a dream of hers, but it didn’t feel right without her father.

Her mom had been the one to talk her into going, and deep down, Rachel knew she needed it. She needed a vacation away from home, but found the farther the van got from Georgia, the more guilt she felt. The guilt kept her awake, idly flipping through the books on her e-reader, not paying attention to any of them.

At around 6:00 a.m., Rachel could see the first glimpse of mountains silhouetted against the beginnings of an early morning sunrise. The dull pink and radiant oranges forming in the sky around the peaks stood out in stark contrast to the dark mountains. A few red wisps, the color of Rachel’s curly long hair, began to filter through the skyline.

Rachel closed her eyes and tried to remember the last time she had seen that type of sunrise. It had been nine years since her family had gone on vacation in Gatlinburg, the small town right under the mountain. Before dawn on their last morning there, her dad woke her up to watch the sunrise from their hotel room balcony.

To her seven-year-old eyes, it was magical. Her sixteen-year-old eyes saw beauty in it as well but not like before; not like she had witnessed with her father.

Rachel shook her head, trying to get those once-happy, now painful memories out of her mind. To her right her best friend, Carly, snored away; a fact Rachel knew would mortify the brunette beauty. She had no doubt that someone would make the mistake of aggravating Carly about her loud sleeping, and that person would probably be her ex — Sid.

Bored, Rachel flipped through her books again, trying to find something worth reading. As she scanned, she had a sense that someone was watching her. She glanced up just in time to catch a glimpse of Sid’s friend, Asher, turning back around.

****

“Almost there,” David announced to the insomniac few like himself.

“So, that means we can come back to the land of the living, right?” The familiar echo of Sid’s voice bellowed, letting Asher know that his precious quiet had ended.

“I’m just happy that you aren’t snoring anymore.” Asher grinned, looking out the window at the mountains.

“The rumors of my snoring have been greatly exaggerated,” Sid said as he turned on the overhead light, causing Asher to flinch and fight the urge to smack him.

“Yes, to answer your question, brother, you can turn on the light. Although, your fellow travelers might want to bless you out — and not in the most Christian of ways —for blinding them at this most unpleasant hour.”

“Can I volunteer?” Asher asked, only half kidding.

Sid shook his head at Asher and said to his brother in the driver’s seat, “They’ll get over it.” He stretched his arms over his head and adjusted his staple, never-left-behind red cap. Asher didn’t think he’d ever seen him without it and probably never would. The biker dude on that fifties-based show his grandma used to watch had his leather jacket. Sid had his ugly red cap. It was the way of the world.

“Wouldn’t be so sure of that,” David chuckled as others woke up in not great moods and began throwing things at Sid.

****

Fall in the Great Smoky Mountains brought millions of people to the otherwise rustic region to drive up the mountain, hike the trails, visit Cades Cove, go to the famous theme park, or just do some Christmas shopping in the cities of Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. They were drawn to the mountains for the splendor of the colorful leaves adorning and then falling off the trees. Around October, the trees turned from deep green to bright yellow, burnt orange, and brilliant red hues. It wasn’t surprising that most people visited the mountains during early fall, which was precisely why David hadn’t planned their trip for October. “Too many people,” he said.

The Grant Gospel Church Youth Group arrived in the city at the foot of the mountain two weeks before Thanksgiving.

“So this is the famous Gatlinburg?” Carly Jones stretched from her seat beside Rachel.

“Sure is.” Rachel smiled at her friend, happy to have her awake and semi-coherent.

Carly sat up and pulled her long brown hair into a high ponytail. She leaned across Rachel and peeked out of the window at the rural scenery. Even though Gatlinburg was a city, it had the quaintness of a small town. Two streets ran parallel through the city, and it was an easy walk from one end to the other. The city sold hillbilly chic and used images of the bears that roamed the mountains as mascots. They were plastered everywhere.

“Interesting,” Carly mused as they passed one of the many hillbilly mini golf courses.

“Your enthusiasm is contagious.” Rachel laughed. A bit of sarcasm tipped her voice.

“Oh, I’m enthusiastic about the hike. I think that will be fun. But not so much spending two days away from home with Sidney.”

“You’ll live,” Rachel said, turning off her e-reader and placing it in her lap.

“I guess.” Carly shrugged, crossing her arms with a sigh. “I suppose this trip won’t kill me.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Of course,” came a voice two seats ahead, “you could always be killed by a bear. I hear they are known for preying on the sweeter among us.”

“Sid, save it for someone who cares,” Carly moaned, rolling her eyes at the guy who had once meant the world to her. Rachel had nothing personal against Sid. He sinned like all of them, but Sid’s sin had hurt her best friend, and that in turn hurt Rachel. She prayed that Sid got in a hiking group that didn’t contain her or Carly, so she wouldn’t have to hear them arguing all day.

“Children,” David called from the front seat. “No one is dying on this trip, got it?” he emphasized, keeping his eyes on the narrowing road leading through the city. “No one is getting killed by a bear or a coyote or a snake…”

“Sid should know all about snakes,” Carly spat.

“And no one is bickering,” David stressed. “Got it? We are here to have fun, not to audition for a soap opera. We are going to show the people of the Smokies what good, upstanding teenagers come from Georgia, and we are going to live as Christianly examples in all areas of our trip. Does everyone understand that?”