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Bracing against the pain, I kick my ankle again. Still nothing.
This is crazy.
I haven’t spoken to Caleb yet.
Thatis the glaring regret flashing across my brain as I try to keep myself away from that water. We hadn’t made up since our fight. He’d been avoiding me, I’d been trying to give him space. I figured we’d have time to talk after David went back to New York.
That I have all the time I might need.
And now this.
“I refuse to die because it’s raining!” I cry. But I have to turn my chin as water sloshes into my hair and ears.
Apparently, mother nature doesn’t much care for my denials.
I’m unable to move, and with nothing to hold on to, and my foot still trapped, my calm abandons me.
The realization that I could actually die here finally takes hold. Horror sets in. And I start to scream.
Caleb
She wasn’t there.
Standing out the front of the house, I feel the rain pound over my shoulders, and run down my face… My breath comes in shallow, panicked gasps as I stare out into the woods, hoping to catch a glimpse of blonde hair or the outline of a female shape.
She hadn’t been at the garage or her place. I hadn’t seen her along the forest track, or the walking path among the trees. I’d turned the house upside down and she wasn’t there.
Running out of ideas, I cup my hands around my mouth and yell into the woods.
“Lizzie!”
I call, again.
“Lizzie!”
Nothing.
A gust of wind blows and it’s so powerful I’m nearly knocked off my feet. Calling is useless. No one can hear their own thoughts over the wind.
Taking my emergency duffel from the back of the truck, I have no choice but to head into the woods myself. She might be there. She might not. Heck, she could still be at Gatlinburg airport, deciding to wait out the rain with an uncharged phone.
But I don’t care. I’m not about to take that risk.
If she is in East River and I haven’t found her yet, the only logical place for Lizzie to be is stuck out in the wild. Right or wrong, I’m not about to sit at home and hope for the best.
I shoulder the bag, slam my chattering teeth together, ignore the raw skin beneath my wet clothes, and march into the trees.
I stomp through the underbrush, ignore warrens and nests. My care is overshadowed by my fears for Lizzie. I call her name, even against the wind. But I never hear a response.
“Lizzie, come on! Answer me!”
Sputtering in the rain, I shake out my hair to clear my vision.
My boots squelch and I tug myself free of a snagging branch.
“Lizzie!”
For what feels like an eternity, I walk the length of the forest track, heading further out with each passing cycle.
