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TWO
LANA
“Holy hot damn, this hill never ends!”
I let loose another loud, guttural groan that echoed through the sparse pine trees. “Did I ask for a fuckingstairmaster!?” My legs burned and my back ached. I loved hiking, but this was testing my patience with the national park.
Though I could feel the frustration course through every one of my veins, I knew I needed this. I needed the outside, the fresh air, the natural quiet away from the city. Well, as quiet as it could get with my enraged ramblings that echoed off the mountainside.
I knew I needed to get out of the city, away from the endless lights, the constant noise of busy work, and rebuild myself with new purpose. It may not be some long walk to find myself, but at least a weekend of hiking once in a while.
Since that shocking night some eight months ago, I started going hiking to get out of the Los Angeles smog and endless traffic. Some days I would leave work early and head to nearby hills. This time I planned my paid time off for this hiking trip, meticulously planning each detail of this trip to make it to a nearby summit. My first solo overnight camping trip, all to myself.
Yosemite National Park was a gold mine of natural wonders and glorious expanse. No phone signal, no worries about calls from random people, nothing except me and the wilderness.
The trails thinned higher in the mountains, away from tourists trying to escape the city for a day. I kept going further, farther, and aimed to camp somewhere where I could watch the stars in peace for the night before heading to the summit the following day before turning around and heading home.
My feet hurt, my legs hurt, my ass hurt, my lungs hurt, even myfingershurt from holding my walking sticks, which I mostly dragged behind myself, anyway.
The views were worth it. I could look out over this grand expanse of land and see mountains in the distance as gray fog slowly descended over the hillsides. It was so, very worth it.
I moved onward with the determination of an enraged snail. My feet hurt, my skin hurt, and the sunscreen I had slathered on earlier was wearing off.
Once I got to my campsite, I planned to pull out my cooking kit and whip up a delicious mini sauté. No cup of ramen for me this time! I was going to camp in delicious style. There was something so peaceful and calming about cooking in the wilderness with nothing but the sounds of nature and the sizzle of food.
After all that time with Marsh I had learned that maybe, just maybe, life in the city was not for me.
Maybe I was better off alone.
Or maybe I just needed a good pity fuck.
The hairs on my forearms and the back of my neck crept upward in the sudden silence.
Something was watching me. There was exciting watching… then there was this. Even the birds and insects had gone quiet. They left me with only the sound of a soft breeze in the pines.
I hear the soft snap of a twig behind me. It’s a weekday. There is no one out here for miles. It’s supposed to be just me and... I turn and lock eyes with the largest mountain lion I had ever seen. The look of death in its stare.
With panic swelling in my veins, all concepts of wildlife safety fled my thoughts. My scream came bubbling forth from my lips.
“Holy shit!” I scream, fumbling forward and slipping on rocks under my boots.
My hands smacked the dirt beneath me, debris sticking to my palms. I had to run. I did not want to die out here being eaten by an enormous cat. There was a life to live!
Fuck, I have not even had good sex yet!
As I stood, trying to lunge forward, I froze. The barrel of a rifle pointing straight at me.
I would die by the mountain lion behind me or the hunter ahead of me.
