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“Not last night, I don’t like how deep my sleep is when I take them.”
“That’s the point of them, Lara. You need a full night’s rest. When was the last time you slept for a full 8 hours?”
I chuckle quietly, “My birthday, I drank my weight in alcohol and slept like a babe.”
“Not a healthy coping mechanism. Take the meds, Lara. You need them.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take the meds, Mom.” I concede with sarcasm, knowing full well that I won’t and Claire laughs.
“Thank you. Now, get some rest. We can discuss this more next week.”
“Thanks, Claire.” I click the end button and look at the time before tossing my phone onto the bed.
Four AM. Perfect time for an early morning run.
After an uneventful but paranoia-filled run, I shower and change into hiking clothes. Grabbing my bag, I hurry out the door and lock up behind me.
The peaceful scenery is filled with the cheerful chirping of birds as I deviate from the narrow path and enter the thick brush. The tranquility of nature washing away the residual anxieties of my dream.
Walking deeper into the forest, I make sure to tie ribbons on the trunks and branches of trees, tugging on them to ensure they don’t disappear again. It doesn’t take long before I notice the soil turning sandy and pause to gather samples. Following Henry’s list of flora and photographs, I find plants that resemble the ones in the images, carefully uprooting them and storing them in my bag. Once I’m satisfied that we have a good sample size for our tests, I trace the trail of ribbons and begin the hike back.
Around the halfway point, I find yet again that the markers I tied on the trees are no longer there. A frustrated huff escapes my throat as I check my compass, surveying my surroundings for any movement. Unease once again sinks into my gut, bringing forth the anxieties from this morning, but I push forward.
The forest thickens and I pause to glance at my compass. It is still showing the correct direction as I scan the unfamiliar area before scaling over a knee-high plant and continuing forward. Every seven steps I glance down to my compass to make sure I haven’t suddenly ventured off course.
As I pass a large oak tree, something snaps nearby and my head jerks in the direction of the sound.
Please be a deer.
With the sun high in the sky casting shadows along the dense underbrush, and they dance around as the wind blows through the canopy. My heart pounds in my chest and I shiver as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
On high alert, I take a few more steps toward the tree, gripping my bear spray tightly in my clammy, sweat slicked palm. The forest is quiet now. The birds have stopped chirping happily, crickets are silent and the rest wildlife has either disappeared or holds a bated breath.
The incessant buzzing of the forest has become so absent that the rise and fall of my chest seems to echo in the space surrounding me, with my heartbeat pounding in my ears like a war drum.
A crunch sounds out behind me and I whirl around, my heart beating frantically in my chest. The bear spray slips from my grasp and clatters onto the ground as my gaze falls upon the older man from the bar, his appearance disheveled and worn. His ripped jeans are discolored at the seams, and his dirty black shirt hangs loosely on his frame. His leathery skin bears the marks of numerous scars that I hadn’t noticed the other night, all in varying stages of fading. He meets my gaze with a cold, empty stare, and a malevolent grin slowly spreads across his lips.
“You look lost, little lady,” his gravelly voice echoes the still air, sending a shiver down my spine. Panic wells up inside me as I realize the bear spray lies on the ground, out of my immediate reach.
Fuck.
Glaring into his dark, emotionless eyes, my pulse quickens. Memories of a scared eight-year-old girl running from a cottage flood my mind and I quickly shut them out. I have no time for wallowing in my past, if I do, I’m dead. Assessing our surroundings, I search for any possible escape routes or anything I could use to beat him.
He’s standing a few feet away but with his long legs, he will quickly catch up. My escape hinges on his lack of cardio or my ability to outmaneuver him through the bushes and underbrush. Diving for my bear spray isn’t an option with his size, if he gets a hold of me regardless of my training, there’s a good chance I’m done for. The bear spray will hit me too at close range, not to mention that I’m downwind from him.
First, I take a cautionary step back as he mirrors the movement forward and sneers, “You made it too easy, coming out here again alone.”
Sweat beads down my neck and spine and I suppress a shiver of dread.
I need to buy time.
I need to think.
“So, you were the one following me? Did you remove my markers?”
He ignores my question, looking at me with smug anticipation. “He’s going to be real pleased with me when I bring you to him.” Leathery man smirks and his crooked, discolored teeth make me cringe.
I frown, angling my foot behind me, “Who is ‘He’?”
