Page 89 of A Light in the Dark
I had more than enough bruises without adding to my collection.
Muttering curses every step of the way, I began implementing the next step of my plan, which involved making asmuch distance as possible before foraging for berries that wouldn’t try to kill me, setting up a shelter, and starting a fire to keep warm. With a little luck, I’d be able to fish with my stick, but I wouldn’t hold my breath on that.
Spear fishing took a lot of practice, something I lacked. While desperation often proved to be the mother of invention, I wanted a full belly, warmth, and shelter in case the weather soured.
In Stonecreek, the weather liked souring.
I kept a wary eye on the sky, ready to run for higher ground in case rain fell and the waters swelled. I comforted myself with thoughts of home and the inevitability of finding civilization eventually through following the river. Sure, I might reach the ocean first, but oceans had beaches, and where there were beaches, there were people. If Ididmake it to a city-state with a beach, I’d have a lot of explaining to do, but a few phone calls could handle that.
Kidnapping victims weren’t typically charged for illegal border crossings, and there had been witnesses. I could only hope the witnesses hadn’t come to any harm—and that the dispatcher who’d been on the phone with me wasn’t in on my disappearance.
Puzzled, I pulled my phone back out of my pocket, narrowing my eyes at the realization one of the bastards had grabbed it and put it where it belonged without my awareness of it. The broken screen remained dark, taunting me.
I upgraded from muttering curses to snarling them, returned my busted phone to my pocket, and resumed my search for civilization, hoping I would find a road before I ran out of strength and ended up another fatal kidnapping statistic.
TWENTY-SEVEN
What are you doing here?
The sky darkenedand rumbled in the distance, and as I valued my life, I went to work finding a place I could hole up and stay mostly dry a safe distance from the river. Aware that the waters would cease being clear and potable within a few hours, I drank as much as I could, hoping it would be enough to sustain me until the sediment settled.
I’d still run risk of illness, but unless I could find a spring somewhere, which would involve leaving the general safety of the river’s shores, I was out of luck. A little good fortune would have been nice, but I recognized the truth.
My kidnappers had likely dumped me somewhere remote to help cover their tracks.
I scurried about the forest gathering suitable wood and broad leaves to make a shelter, using whippy saplings to weave my stronger sticks together. I made use of one of the outcroppings of rock a safe distance above the water as my shelter. A hole in the stone would drip water near me, butthe evidence of weathering in form of a rain-worn channel offered some hope I’d stay mostly dry. Best of all, thanks to the hole, I could start a fire in the shelter to keep warm while the smoke funneled upwards.
Assuming, of course, I could gather enough deadfall before the rains started in earnest.
I succeeded at my mission, gathering enough to last a day or two. While thunder rumbled and lightning flashed overhead, I spun a stick between my hands while using dried grass and weeds as tinder. It took a while, but I created smoke, and shortly thereafter, with a few well-timed blows, the smoke became fire. Feeding the baby flames twigs and more tinder tested my patience, but when the first of my actual pieces of wood ignited, I held some hope I might survive until I found civilization.
As hoped for, the rain did drain out, the covering I’d made for the entry kept the water outside, and the fire did an excellent job of warming me.
Unfortunately, the storm lingered, leaving me with a few choices, none of which appealed. I could head down to the river, hope I could find a calmer pool of water with fish and attempt to spear my supper, forage for berries and plants, a dangerous enough proposition I opted against it at first consideration, or resume my hike in search of civilization before I starved to death.
At least gathering water would be easy. All I needed was to take one of the extra leaves, catch the rain, and drink.
Making use of a few excess sticks, I fashioned a stand so one of the better leaves could serve as a rain catch while I took my sharpened stick to the river. As expected, the water levels had risen, there wasn’t a still pool of water in sight,and if there were fish, they hid in the murky depths. After a brief exploration, where I gathered more wood and hoped it would dry out enough to add to my fire, I discovered a patch of berries, an equal mix of toxic and edible.
However much I loved strangleberry, I left those alone and stuck to the edible ones, taking care to spit out any pits and eating as much as I could tolerate before heading back to my shelter.
To hopefully extend my wood, I added one piece of damp wood at a time, hoping the dry logs would eventually ignite the wet ones. To my relief, it worked, although the hiss and pop of the wood did a good job of forcing me to retreat to the far side of my cubby. Thanks to the tight confines, I dried quickly and warmed with minimal shivering.
Until the storm broke, there was little else I could do beyond wait, revisit the berry patch until the plants had nothing left to give, and hope for the best.
Two days later,the rain, lightning, and thunder finally let up, leaving the river a swollen mess in its wake. My choice to pick the high ground had done me good, and I expected it would be several days until the water level dropped enough to make use of the rocky shore as a walkway. Until then, I’d have to pick my way through the forest, stopping along the way to eat every viable berry I could.
Even then, I recognized I lost weight. I struggled to handle even walking, and I had a severe time limit to find help beforemy kidnappers accomplished their goals, albeit in a long, drawn out fashion rather than the immediate demise they’d planned for me. Anger kept me going, and it smoldered deep within, burning away at me while driving me ever forwards.
Had I been paying more attention to my surroundings and less to my fury, the incessant bite of hunger cramping my stomach, and my exhaustion, I wouldn’t have tripped over the wolf. The wolf yipped, I shrieked and fell on my face, and we tangled in a mess of arms and legs. Somehow, I dodged the wolf ripping off my face or otherwise scolding me with their teeth. It took me a shamefully long time to realize a mundane wolf would have been quite happy to devour me for lunch, leaving me with a rather patient shapeshifter.
Too tired to even cry, I stared at the animal, who stared back, tilting its gray head this way and that. I should have introduced myself, but breathing consumed the little strength I had left.
All I wanted was something to eat, a bath, and a nap, and not necessarily in that order.
I wondered if the wolf would serve as a pillow. After a little rest, I could figure out how to explain some assholes had shoved toxic berries down my throat with the expectation of me drowning shortly thereafter.
Footsteps crunched on leaves and sticks behind me, and I thought about turning, but I decided I lacked the energy to bother. Waiting sucked, but it was my first and my last option. Everything else required doingsomething.
