Crossing the Deep (12 page)

“Prop your foot on my leg so it stays off the concrete. Don’t want it any worse than it is.”

“Okay.” Being that close to him was more intimate than anything she’d ever done before. She prayed that he couldn’t feel her heart pounding through her chest and had to laugh at herself. Shouldn’t a sixteen-year-old know how to deal with this?

“It’ll be fine, Rachel. Tomorrow night we’ll be in a nice, warm bed.”

“Together?” she asked before she thought, then wished she could take it back.

“Only if you want.” His cool breath tickled her hair.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know you didn’t.” He laughed. “I know you wouldn’t do anything like that, just like I hope you know that I’d never do anything intentional to hurt you. Just rest. Tomorrow will come soon enough.”

He held her close, and after a few minutes, she stopped shivering. Sleep started to overtake her. Before she gave in, she felt his lips against her hair. How could she let him go tomorrow?

Chapter Ten

Sunday
morning:
Two
days
before…

Asher didn’t sleep much that night. He just held on to Rachel, not wanting to let her go or wake her. Knowing he needed to rest, he forced his eyes closed on several occasions. Even though he was exhausted, sleep didn’t come easily.

When he did sleep, he dreamed. They weren’t the dreams he expected to have being lost in the woods. These were nightmares about home.

In one of them, he was coming home from school. It was snowing, and school had been dismissed early due to the declining road conditions. Unlike the rest of his classmates, no one came to pick him up. Being as he was eight and the principal needed to get home to his family, he let Asher walk the two blocks home alone.

In the dream, Asher slid up the ice-covered steps, holding on to the iron rails so he wouldn’t fall. His house was a two-story fixer-upper, which had never been fixed up. The siding had more green and brown spots than white, and the screen door had a huge dent in it from one of his mom’s rages.

Asher put the key into the doorknob of the faded red door and was surprised to find it unlocked. He opened it and walked in. “Mom!”

No answer. It didn’t surprise him knowing his mom. After checking all of the downstairs rooms, he got a drink from the kitchen and went back into the living room. He rearranged a few magazines on the couch, so he could sit down, and flipped on the television. Nothing interested him on the three channels they got, so he shut it off and headed upstairs. Maybe his mom had passed out in her room again.

The air was stale, thick. A feeling came over him the farther he got up the rickety stairs. Something wasn’t right.

Her bedroom door sat wide open, and her bed wasn’t made. Nothing shocking about that; her bed was never made unless she expected a male “friend”. Something on his left caught his eye — the closet doors weren’t completely shut.

His mom had let it be known from the time he was very little that under no circumstances could he ever go into her closet. The forceful swings of the flyswatter beat that into him by age three. But his mom was missing, so he swallowed his fear and opened the accordion doors the rest of the way.

Distant eyes met him. Distant eyes and a pool of blood.

“Mama!” he screamed, reaching for a pulse. There wasn’t one. “I’ll call for help,” he said squeezing her bare shoulder. Like she could hear him.

He ran to the phone on her nightstand and started dialing 9-1-1. Before anyone could answer, a large hand slammed the receiver out of his hand and disconnected the call. Asher was thrown against the wall and then slid down to the bed.

“Thought your mom told you to never come in here,” Jason said, towering over him.

Jason, his aunt’s new boyfriend.

Jason, who didn’t even live with them.

Jason, who should have never been in the house.

Jason’s large six-foot-three-inch frame grabbed for him, and Asher retaliated by pulling out a handful of his salt-and-pepper hair. Jason screamed and threw him against the headboard, causing him to roll off the other side of the bed.

“Leave me alone!” Asher yelled, picking up the dusty rose lamp beside his mom’s bed and breaking it across Jason’s face. Blood splattered over the older man’s graying beard, and he fell motionless on top of the dark pink, floral comforter.

Asher woke up with sweat pouring down his forehead despite the freezing temperature. At first, he had no idea where he was. His first instinct was to look around for Jason — to finish him off if need be. What he saw was blackness, and what he felt was a girl snuggled up next to him.

Rachel.

Asher lay as still as he could, trying to steady his erratic breathing. Nothing in that dream had happened that way in real life. He
had
come home from school on a snow day to find his mom gone, but she hadn’t been dead in a closet. He had checked. In fact, he still had no idea what had happened to her. She had just vanished. After that, he lived with his Aunt Carol or foster care.

And Jason hadn’t been in his mom’s room that day, but he always had some sort of cameo in his nightmares. Even lost in the woods, Asher couldn’t get away from him.

After lying there for a while and listening to the rain pounding on the roof, his breathing returned to normal. He realized that he was safe. Well, as safe as he could be.

It surprised him that his jolt hadn’t woken Rachel up. Her foot continued to rest on his leg.

Rachel intrigued him. She obviously believed in a good, loving God, but he bet she’d never gone through what he had. She couldn’t have… no one could have. His mother had thought he was a burden. He didn’t know his father. All he had now was an aunt who cared about him (but not much), and her on-again boyfriend who cared too much. Asher figured if it wasn’t for Rachel being missing, no one would even bother to come looking for him.

If anyone
was
looking for them…

He’d never admit it to her, but he had started questioning if anyone actually was coming, or if Sid had even made it down the mountain. They hadn’t seen hide or hair of anyone, and that seemed out of character for a national park with a reputation for being full of tourists.

Asher listened to the never-ending pouring rain hitting the roof of their little shelter. When the sun rose, he would have to leave her there in the graveyard alone, a thought that made his already upset stomach churn more. Planning his route, he decided his best chance would be to go back the direction they had gone before, away from Harrison’s Trail, and hoped it led to Deep Creek Trail or any trail for that matter.

He didn’t know what he would do if it led on another wild goose chase. The food dwindled down to two bags of chips. He could fill the empty water bottles with rain, but they could only live on water for so long.

Rachel’s foot worried him, too. With the way it looked already, there was no way they could make it another night. Even through his jeans, he could feel how cold it was on his leg. He wished more than anything he could fix it for her.

At the first hint of light, the fog crept in, covering the tombstones. It was eerie being in a cemetery full of fog so thick he couldn’t even see the gate at the far end. He remembered a question Mrs. King had asked in sophomore year. “Could rain and fog happen at the same time?” Mrs. King had said yes. She had been right.

“Come on, can’t we just get a little break?” he muttered with a sigh.

“What did you say?” Rachel rubbed her sleepy eyes.

“Nothing.” His heart broke knowing in a few minutes he’d be away from her.

“What time is it?”

“Time to get up, I imagine.” He helped her up, not that he was happy about it, and stretched his arm. It had gone to sleep sometime during the night with Rachel lying on it, not that he minded. Having her close to him was well worth the temporary discomfort.

“Oh wow. It’s really foggy.”

“That it is.” He opened the pack and got out the chips for breakfast. It was the last they had. He offered her the choice: sour cream and onion or barbecue. She picked barbecue.

He had already munched on a few when he saw her head bent and eyes closed. She was praying again. He’d heard of people praying over their food but hadn’t ever seen anyone do it as much as she did. Unsure of what to do, he thought it respectful to not chew and let her have her prayer time. He could at least give her that.

When she finished, she started eating without a word. He followed suit. It was too quiet with just the sound of the pouring rain on the roof and their crunching chips. “If there was another way…”

“I know,” She cut in, not looking at him.

“It’s not like I want to.”

“I know.”

He sighed, rolled his chip bag up, and laid it down on the floor. His appetite was gone. “I’ll bring help back. I promise.”

A forced smile pulled her lips. “I’ll be fine. God will be here.”

He nodded, wishing he could believe it like she did. “How’s your foot feeling?”

“I don’t imagine it’s changed much,” she said, pulling the not-so-dry-from-the-rain sock down. Asher flinched when he saw it. If he thought it looked bad yesterday, it looked ten times worse now. It had swollen so much that it was difficult to tell where her foot ended and her toes began. Her toes were discoloring more than her ankle, especially the first two, which were turning a nasty color of black.

“Well that looks… painful?” He gently rolled it over in his hands. “Does it hurt?”

“Not as much as it did yesterday.” She paused. “That’s probably not a good sign, is it?”

He had to think if
that
didn’t hurt much, then she was right. “I’m not a doctor, but I do know that we need to get you to a hospital as fast as we can.”

“How long is this rain gonna last?” She stared toward the cemetery.

“No idea. Leave it to David Andrews to schedule a hike during a monsoon.” He wrapped her foot and pulled her sock over her foot. The material stretched almost beyond its capabilities.

“To be fair, he didn’t intend for us to be on this mountain for three days.” She sounded sad, and he knew why. After all this time, she still blamed herself for all of this. He didn’t like it either, but he couldn’t change it now. They had to play with the hand they were dealt, even if that hand stunk.

“Well, I’m not going to let us be stuck for another night. I’d better go while I can.” He took one of the water bottles to the edge of the gazebo and held it out into the rain.

“Brilliant,” she said, grinning.

“Yep, I’m a regular rocket scientist.” He brought the rainwater-filled bottle over and handed it to her.

“Oh no. You need this more than I do,” she protested.

“I can get some more,” he said with a raised brow, leaning his head toward the rain. “Drink.”

She accepted the water and drained the bottle. He hadn’t realized just how thirsty she had been. “See, God provides,” she said, catching her breath.

“Please, don’t start this morning. It’s too early.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“I don’t see a church around here.” He scanned the old graveyard to make his point.

“Don’t need a building to make a church.”

He started to argue with her about that, but she beat him to it. “But I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

“For now.”

He glared at her then decided to let it go. If Rachel wanted his salvation to be her little pet project, fine. Anything to keep her motivated to get off the mountain.

She handed the bottle back to him, and he filled it up again with rainwater, along with their second empty bottle. “I’ll take one and you keep one. Fill it up as much as you need. Don’t be all superhero and go walking around though. Stay put as much as you can and prop up your ankle.”

“Yes, Mother,” she groaned.

He reached for the bag but thought better of it. Rachel needed it to rest her foot on more than he needed the extra weight on his back. “Take it easy,” he went on, mothering or not. “If you hear yelling, yell back, but don’t leave this place on your own. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

“You can’t go without this,” she said, trying to move her foot off the backpack.

“It would just add extra weight and slow me down. Keep it.”

“You can’t just… Here,” she said, unzipping her coat, “take this. It has a hood on it and will protect you better in the rain than yours.”

“I can’t take that either,” he said, taking her hands to get her to stop. Her pleading eyes caught his. He couldn’t look away.

“Yes, you can. You give me your leather one and take mine. Don’t argue with me.” He opened his mouth to talk her out of it, but she put her finger to his lips to hush him. The surprise made his breath catch.

Her finger chilled his lips but warmed his chest. He had no idea if she wanted him to kiss her, but he knew that was all he could think about. It felt like a magnet drawing him in, and he leaned over toward her. It was warm with her, and he knew that the second he left, he would be cold again. Not just on the outside either.

Rachel’s finger lingered on his lips as he lowered them to hers. He had enough sense left to hesitate before kissing her to give her time to stop him. When she shut her eyes instead, he closed the gap between them. Her lips were freezing and a little chapped from the wind and lack of water. Despite that, they felt perfect to him.

Her inexperience was evident in the rigid way she sat, and he wondered for a second if he should break it off. As if reading his mind, she slid her body closer and put her arms around his neck. When she parted her lips slightly, Asher took the opportunity to show her the finer points of kissing.

He wanted to put his hands in her hair and pull her in as close to him as he could. The way her body reacted, he knew she would let him. But he didn’t think it would be real, not to her anyway. She was tired, scared. Under normal circumstances, she would never have kissed him and definitely not on a first date if he could call being stranded in the woods a date.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way he could take advantage of her. Not Rachel.