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ONE
THE FALL
It was finally over.
Shaking and whimpering, she could hear their voices, merciless and gutting in their indifference, sprinkled with bursts of laughter as they departed from the ridge. They climbed down hastily, probably to catch the thinning remainders of daylight before heading into the woods.
The chill of the evening air rattled her aching body. Even summer nights were cold on Wildfire Ridge, although snow melted every spring and didn’t fall until late September. Slowly rolling onto her side, she hugged her knees as tears started falling again. Silent tears, of humiliation and defeat, of unspeakable shame. In the distance, the waning bouts of laughter felt like slaps across her tear-stained face.
She was alone.
No one had heard her screams. No one could help her.
The words they had said still resonated in her mind. The names they called her. The unspeakable things they did to her. All she wanted to think of was home, her mother’s loving arms and healing touch. Feeling safe again. Hiding what had happened to her from her father because she couldn’t imagine looking him in the eye if he ever found out. Only her mom would understand. She would keep her secret safe.
But home was far away, a three-hour mountain hike in the dark, by herself, coming down from the peak on rocky terrain and through thick woods, then fifteen miles or so on the road from the southwestern versant of Mount Chester to the small California town that bore its name. Might as well have been a hundred miles. The thought of crossing the woods in the dark gripped her heart with merciless, frozen fingers. Every forest sound she used to find soothing when the sun was shining, now spoke menacing whispers in rustling leaves and evergreen cones.
The night was falling hard on Wildfire Ridge, the last hues of orange, crimson, and red that had earned the peak its name fading quickly with the setting sun. The deep, menacing red vanished last, a blood-smeared reminder of the day that had ended, an unspoken threat of the day to come.
Still dizzy and growing weaker with each passing minute, she tried to sit up. Her body, aching and bleeding, put up a fight, and her willpower was quickly defeated. Setting her throbbing head down on the coarse moss-covered boulder, she resigned herself to face the cold darkness alone on the mountain.
The sound of a snapped twig sent her heart racing, thumping against her rib cage. Was it a bear?
“Hello.”
The voice, a low, throaty whisper, startled her back to a state of disoriented alertness. The night chill had seeded icicles in her blood. Numb, shaky, and frozen, she found the strength to sit up.
Maybe there was hope. Soon she’d be home again, warm and safe. Confusion engulfed her brain like a persistent fog, clinging to every corner of her mind, fueling her fears. With a fleeting thought, she realized she’d been drugged. She had to have been, or she would’ve been on her way home already. Seeing the dark silhouette against the moonlight, she desperately wanted to run but knew she couldn’t.
What was the stranger doing there? It was too late in the day for anyone to wander on Wildfire Ridge just by accident.
Her breath caught in her chest, and she took the hand offered, noticing in passing the warmth of the skin that touched hers. She stood and struggled for a bit to find her footing, then let go of the stranger’s hand. Dizziness made the mountain crest spin and dance against the star-filled August sky. Out of balance, she grabbed a thick hemlock branch and steadied herself.
Her eyes followed the stranger’s cold, analytical gaze, failing to understand why she saw hatred in those eyes, hoping she was reading it wrong. Her clothes were a mess, torn and bloodied. With trembling fingers, she tried to cover herself as best she could, fresh tears of shame burning her eyes and blurring everything around her.
“Will you help me?” she whimpered.
A short cackle tore through the silence of the mountain night. “Help you? Dear girl, what happened to you today was entirely your doing and nothing short of what you deserve. You’re nothing but a cocktease.”
The words dropped onto her like tombstones, heavy, menacing, deadly.
Fear gripped her chest, paralyzing her. Her chin trembled, threatening sobs she didn’t welcome. “Please… I’m not… I haven’t done anything—”
The blow came unexpectedly, shattering her breath. Jenna heard it splitting the air before she felt it burning her face, bursting her lip, sending stars in a whirlwind dance inside her brain.
This wasn’t happening. It had to be a nightmare. Something that couldn’t exist in the light of day, only in the deep, troubled shadows of Wildfire Ridge. Yet the metallic taste of blood on her lips proved differently.
Afraid of another blow, Jenna took a step back, then another. With each step, she tried to put more distance between her and the assailant, but that distance was narrowing down instead. Slipping on a pebble, she lost her footing for a moment. She yelped, then continued feeling her way, stepping backward without looking, unable to take her eyes off the threatening, vengeful gaze inching closer to her.
Her faltering steps loosened a few pebbles and sent them over the edge of the cliff, rattling and bouncing against sharp rock edges until she couldn’t hear them anymore. She was closer to the abyss than she’d realized. Afraid she’d fall, she stopped, willing herself to move away from the edge of the cliff and fight her way back to safety if she had to.
The stranger smiled and took one more step, eyes glinting like ice picks against the weak rays of the crescent moon.
She screamed as she fell, grasping desperately as the merciless hand pushed her firmly over the edge of the ridge. Then the scream stopped abruptly, inviting the silence of the night to take over once the echoes died.
TWO
RENEWAL
