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“They’re not deer,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Come on, we need to get away from here before the mom comes back.”
A loud, low grunt sounded from behind us.
Amos whipped around, his arm shoving me behind him and his steps forcing me backward.
Coming up the hill with her head lowered and nostrils flaring, an enormous moose crashed through the underbrush toward her calf. She was gigantic.Huge. Her legs were so long, she could easily step on the hood of an average-sized sedan, and her sides heaved with anger directed straight at us. She let out a braying sound, her throat vibrating as she stretched it toward us.
Fear leaped into my throat and pounded through my veins.
“Go,” Amos said, not bothering to be quiet. “Go, June. Up the hill.”
I backed away as fast as I dared, and Amos followed, his eyes trained on the cow as she grunted again, darting toward us. Amos grabbed my arm and forced me to a run. A feral kind of bray followed our motion, and in that moment, I was absolutely certain my death certificate would read, “Moose mauling.”
Amos tugged me hard to the right, off the trail and toward a thicket of trees.
Branches cracked and plants rustled as the moose chased after us. I looked over my shoulder and wished I hadn’t. Her long legs carried her so fast, she’d be on us in seconds.
“Up here,” Amos said suddenly, taking hold of my waist and pulling us to a halt. “Up the tree. Ready? One, two…” He lifted me off the ground and then vaulted me into the air and straight up to a thick branch jutting out from a cottonwood tree. He pulled himself up behind me, and as my hands scrabbled for purchase on the tree, knowing we weren’t nearly high enough to escape the tall animal, Amos reached up and did the world’s most impressive, one-armed pull-up and folded his body over the next highest branch. He reached down and latched onto my wrists. Then he heaved.
My feet left the branch and I kicked against the trunk to give him some leverage. Blowing out a breath, he finished pulling me up the tree and managed to drape me across the same branch, facing the opposite way.
The moose crashed into the trunk.
I screamed, hanging onto the branch as the whole tree shook. She was only maybe a foot below my dangling sandals. I looked up between the pale green leaves to see if we had anywhere else we could go. It was an older tree, thick around the base and full along the top. Maybe three feet above my head, a “Y” in the trunk cradled a decent-sized space like a banana chair.
Amos must have chosen the tree for that reason because as the moose grunted, shaking its head and swaying side to side, he lifted himself onto our branch and curled his feet underneath him, planted firmly on the bark. I shrieked as the branch dipped low and shook under his weight.
“Hang on,” he said, his voice strained. He angled his body with his back rested against the trunk and his feet dug into the junction where the branch grew out from the main body. Then, he held out his arms to me. “Come on, we can make it up to that trunk collar.”
Still hanging with my feet dangling and my hands balancing my weight so I didn’t teeter back or forward, I stared at the space between us. “How?” I asked, breathless. I felt like I couldn’t suck in a good breath. My chest heaved, but the air wasn’t going down.
His eyes danced over me. “June, hurry. Come on, just reach for me. I won’t drop you.”
The moose brayed, charging for the tree again. When it made impact, I swore my heart stopped from the fear. Our branch bounced with me on it, dipping me down close to the moose and back up again, and I heard a broken scream escape my throat as I turned and straddled the branch, wrapping my limbs around it like an octopus securing its prey.
“Scoot forward,” Amos said, reaching his hands for me.
I pressed my cheek against the branch, fighting for air and seeing little spots dance in my vision. “I ca-I ca—” I stuttered.
“June,” Amos snapped, his voice stern and frightening in its intensity. “Come here. Now.”
My breath wheezed as I sucked in, but his tone broke through my paralyzing fear. I inched forward, pulling my stomach across the branch and wincing as it scraped my flesh. I only had to move two feet before Amos’ long arms could reach me, and then he pulled me to him, fitting me between his knees as he crouched on the branch with balance like a tightrope walker.
“Step on my knee and I’ll lift you to that juncture up there. Do you see it?”
I think I’m hyperventilating,I thought with another jolt of fear.I can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe?
“Matthews,” he barked. My chest sucking in harshly, ribs concaving with each labored breath, I nodded.
He put his hands under my arms, holding me steady. Weirdly, my vision had gone wavy and thick, like I had been dunked under water. With heavy limbs, I balanced one foot on the branch, bracing my hands on the trunk, and then lifted my foot to his knee. He wrapped his hands around my ankle. “Ready?”
I looked up to the juncture, prepping myself to grab for it. I nodded.
He heaved, and I stepped hard, and then I went weightless for one terrifying second before my left knee crashed onto the surface. I pulled myself forward to the safety of the curve. Amos followed almost immediately after and scooped me up, fitting his back against the trunk again and settling me between his legs with my back to his belly.
Stars prickled at the edges of my vision. I fought for air and my lungs made a terrifying sound like a clogged vacuum hose. “Wha-wha—” I struggled to ask.
“You’re having an asthma attack,” Amos said. And just like that, he was Dr. Brady. He sat us upright, pushed my arms out to the side, and laid his hand on my chest from behind. “You have to calm down. We’re safe here, so you need to relax so you can breathe.”
