Friday, June 3, 2003
Rose stopped beneath the shade of a large oak tree, pulling out a bottle of water and sipping from it. The weather was growing rapidly warmer, even in the mountains, and she knew that the time had come to return to civilization.
She didn’t really want to return yet, but she didn’t have much choice. She was almost out of food, and had been lucky to make what she had stretch this far. She knew that she’d lost more weight, both from the strenuous exercise and the lack of food, but she hadn’t really felt it necessary to go back to the world of people before. She had come across houses and small towns in her wanderings, but had avoided them. Now, she had no choice. She had to either go back or starve.
Replacing the cap on the bottle of water, she stepped into the sunlight, shading her eyes as she considered which way to go. She wasn’t quite sure where she was, but she could see the buildings of a town in the valley below. In her desire to avoid people, she had strayed from the well-kept trails, forging ahead through the less-traveled parts of the mountains. She wasn’t sure where the nearest trail was, or which way would lead her to the town, or any town, for that matter—she had no real preference—but she had grown adept at fighting her way through the chaparral, or walking along steep cliffs, narrow ridges, and animal trails.
Distances in the mountains could be deceptive, with nearby objects seeming infinitely far away, and distant objects seeming near. Especially, she thought, when I haven’t had enough to eat in several days. The problem was compounded by the changing landscape—the earthquake had rearranged the terrain sufficiently in some places to make it nearly impassable, and aftershocks still rocked the land on a regular basis, making travel hazardous at times. Rose had learned to watch and listen closely for signs of falling rocks and crumbling cliffs, having come close to falling victim to them more than once now.
Yes, it was definitely time to go back, but getting there could be a problem. The shortest way was not necessarily the best, especially with cliffs and rock falls between her and her destination. Still, she had to find a way into the mountain valley, and there must be a way to get there—after all, she’d found trash at her last campsite, evidence that someone had been there. And she doubted they’d flown. There wasn’t any place to land out here.
Besides, she reasoned, I made my way here on foot, and even if I can’t get to the valley below, I can always backtrack to one of the roads I crossed. She still had a couple of packets of trail mix, so she wouldn’t starve in the time it took her to find her way back to civilization, and roads were a sure sign that people were nearby.
Tucking the bottle into the pocket of the jacket she wore tied around her waist, Rose started walking. The closest town was certainly the one in the valley below, and there was most likely a way to get to it—even if it did mean climbing up and down a few steep hills. She could do it. She was stronger than she had been before, and she was determined to survive, whatever it took.
*****
Several hours later, the town seemed no closer than it had been that morning, but she had come across a sign declaring that wilderness permits were required beyond that point—something she had never even considered. Still, all that would happen if she were caught was that she would be sent back to town, which was where she was trying to go anyway. She had started along the part of the trail that headed toward the road, though she had seen no people, nor any sign that anyone had been there recently. It should have struck her as odd that such a trail would be unpopulated on a pleasant summer day, even on a weekday, but in her haste to get to the road, it never occurred to her to question it.
Rose realized her bad judgment when she came to the reason for the lack of people on the trail—the earthquake had wiped out a section of trail, breaking part of it off to land in the canyon below and sending boulders to cover the part remaining. Still, she was so close to the road—she had heard a vehicle passing as she contemplated her situation—that she had to try to cross the section of trail, as narrow and dangerous as it was.
It was a mistake. Even as she gingerly stepped onto the narrow width of trail remaining, she felt the ground shudder in another aftershock. In that moment, the small boulder disturbed by her feet was jarred loose, providing just the impact needed to finish cracking off the remaining passage.
It crumbled, and even as Rose tried to leap back to safety, the loose rocks tripped her, sending her sliding and tumbling into the canyon below.