Page 1 of Searching for Bristol
CHAPTERONE
Bristol Wingham wanted to kick her own ass.
She’d known better than to go hiking by herself. But Mike had pissed her off so badly, there was no way she could’ve stomached one more night in his presence. She’d told him time and time again that she wasn’t interested in being anything more than a friend, and she thought she’d finally gotten through to him.
And okay, she was kind of desperate for friends. Which was why, when he’d suggested this trip, she’d agreed in the first place.
But as soon as they’d arrived in the quaint town of Fallport, he’d once again begun pressuring her, trying to talk her into dating.
Mike was good-looking enough. Used to women falling all over him, in fact. His brown hair, chocolate-brown eyes, and muscular physique were enough to woo plenty of women, but Bristol had stopped being impressed by physical attributes a long time ago. And at twenty-nine, Mike should’ve been well past the time in his life when he saw all women as conquests. But apparently, he wasn’t.
Sighing, Bristol closed her eyes. She should’ve known something was up when he’d belatedly informed her that Drake Long and Carol Page would be coming on the trip. Drake was twenty-five and Carol a young twenty-three. The last week had been spent listening to the other woman giggling and fawning all over her boyfriend…and Mike.
The plan before leaving had been to go on one last hike, to a picturesque camping area along the Falling Water Trail. It was an intermediate hike that linked up to the famous Appalachian Trail at some point, but they weren’t going to be on it that long. The overlook where the campground was located was around eight miles from the trailhead.
But after only four miles, Mike had suggested they stop and camp right off the trail. Bristol had been confused…until he’d asked her to join in on a sexual interlude that he, Carol, and Drake had obviously already planned.
She’d been appalled—and had told Mike for the three-thousandth time that she wasn’t interested in being more than friends, and shecertainlywasn’t having sex with the other couple either.
Mike had shrugged and said it was her loss. Then he’d calmly turned his back and began setting up camp…with one tent.
There was no way Bristol was going to sit around and listen to the threesome having sex for the rest of the afternoon and evening, so she’d turned on her heel and continued down the trail. Her plan was to camp at the overlook as they’d intended…well, as she’dthoughtthey’d intended.
She’d meet up with her ex-friend in the morning, get back to Kingsport, and never talk to any of them again.
Except she hadn’t made it to the campground. She’d gone off the trail to pee, heard some rustling in the woods and decided to investigate. She wasn’t exactly expecting to see Bigfoot or anything, but she would’ve loved to have seen some sort of wildlife, and she knew better than to go too far off trail.
But she hadn’t expected the ground beneath her to suddenly give way.
She didn’t remember much of what happened after that. Bristol assumed she’d hit her head in the fall and was knocked unconscious. Her head hurt—bad. She was nauseous and had a splitting headache. But that wasn’t the worst of her injuries.
Somehow in the fall, she’d hurt the shin on her right leg so badly, the first time she’d attempted to stand, she’d passed out from the pain.
The next time she woke—after throwing up from the pain in her head and leg—she’d been much more careful about moving.
Looking up, she saw she was at the bottom of a very steep rock face. It was about twenty-five feet to the top, and she could see the clear trail her body took as she’d tumbled downward, aided by loose soil. Her fall had been broken by bushes at the bottom, otherwise she might not be alive at the moment…or at least would be in a lot worse shape than she was.
Her pack was still on her back, which was good, but she couldn’t walk. All she could do was drag herself along the ground in an attempt to find a way to get to the top of the small cliff she’d fallen from and back to the trail. Someone wouldhaveto come by at some point…she hoped.
But it had now been three nights, and Bristol was getting scared. She’d yelled for what seemed like hours, but either no one was on the trail, or she was too far away from it to be heard. She’d hoped Mike and the others would notify someone that she was missing when they got back to the car and didn’t find her, but it was obvious they hadn’t.
They probably thought she’d hitchhiked back to town or something. But how did they think she was going to get home? Levitate?
Then again, maybe she was being too harsh. It was possible a search team was on the case but just hadn’t found her yet.
Deep down though, after three nights, Bristol had a feeling Mike and his friends had left without a second thought as to what had happened to her.
The idea was disheartening and scary.
She’d crawled along the ground the first day, staying near the bottom of the cliff but away from the sharp rocks, and it had been extremely slow going. The agony in her leg kept her from doing much more than scooting on her butt. Every dip and movement of her leg sent sharp pains shooting upward, and after just a couple hours, Bristol had decided it was better to stay put and hope someone found her, rather than risk making whatever was wrong with her leg worse by moving.
She’d done her best to create a splint for her shin, but since she had no idea what she was doing, Bristol didn’t know if she was helping or hurting the injury. The nausea she’d experienced when waking up at the bottom of the cliff had stuck with her, whether from her head injury or the pain from her leg, she didn’t know. She’d tried to stay hydrated and had forced herself to eat some of the granola and protein bars she’d brought with her, but they tasted like chalk and it was all she could do to keep the food down.
She’d also managed to get her tent out of her pack, but hadn’t been able to properly set it up, since she couldn’t stand. But having some sort of shelter was better than none, and she was grateful that she had it. Going to the bathroom had been an adventure, and she felt absolutely filthy.
Looking up at the sun shining through the treetops around her, Bristol wanted to cry, but she forced herself to take a deep breath instead. She was alive; she had to stay positive. But she had a feeling she couldn’t stay at her makeshift camp much longer. If no one was looking for her, she had to do what she could to save herself.
She’d never been the kind of person to sit around feeling sorry for herself. Her parents hadn’t raised her to be a quitter, and she wasn’t about to start now.
