Page 4

Hana

“ G od, Hana. I needed this so bad,” Amber says, breathing in a deep lungful of brisk forest air. Her curly brown hair is piled up on top of her head in a messy bun and her cheeks have a rosy glow from the autumn chill.

Kneeling across from her, I grunt my agreement as I wrestle with the tent pole I’m trying to thread through the small slot.

It’s our senior year of university and with the promise of our degrees only a couple semesters away, the pressure to keep up our grades is weighing heavily on us.

So, Amber, Mateo, and I took advantage of the unseasonably pleasant fall weather and decided to go on one last camping trip during break.

We only have a week off, so decide to stay close. Choosing a nearby wildlife preserve nestled at the base of the Adirondacks.

“Are you sure we won’t get caught sneaking in here?” Amber whispers, as if someone might hear her.

The website said the preserve was open to day camping and hiking until November, but upon arrival were disappointed to find signage announcing it was already closed for the winter.

A full month earlier than it said online.

I could understand closing early if there was a storm coming, but the weather is supposed to be mild for the next few weeks.

We’d gotten a late start, so the sun was already setting when we arrived. Since there wasn’t anywhere else nearby to go, and we already planned to break the rules and camp overnight anyway, after some debate, I talked my friends into ignoring the NO TRESPASSING signs.

“Since it’s closed there shouldn’t be anyone patrolling,” I assure her. I didn’t notice any surveillance watching the parking lot or entrance, so that’s my hope. “If they want to kick us out, they’ll have to come and get us to do it.”

Amber bites down on her bottom lip and nods nervously.

Growing up an Army brat, we moved all over the country as my dad moved up the ranks.

I met Amber my first year in high school when we moved to Arlington and Dad got a job at the Pentagon.

Since he was getting close to retirement, my mama declared this would be our last move.

She wanted my younger brother and me to finally be able to grow roots and make some lasting friends.

My dad might be a big, intimidating black man and a high-ranking Army officer used to giving orders, but when my five-foot nothing Japanese mama puts her foot down, her word is law.

My parents met when my dad was just a corporal, stationed in Okinawa.

To hear them tell it, it was love at first sight.

Her family wasn’t pleased, especially when they eloped at the embassy, but my parents didn’t let that stop them.

When dad’s tour overseas was over, and he returned stateside, she moved with him, and I came along just under a year later.

“Who packed the pans?” Mateo, asks from where he has a good-sized fire burning within a ring of stacked rocks to form a pit .

“I did,” Amber calls over her shoulder, pointing to her backpack with her chin. “Is that your way of offering to make dinner?”

We both laugh at the face he makes. Despite his Italian heritage, Mateo Moretti is not known for his culinary skills. However, according to Amber, he makes up for it in other areas. Which is something I’ll have to take her word for.

A strange sound comes from the darkness, catching my attention.

Scanning the trees surrounding our little campsite, I don’t notice anything out of the ordinary, so I go back to listening to Amber and Mateo’s banter.

They’ve been dating since our freshmen year of college.

Much like she scooped me up and befriended me on our first day of school, they gravitated to each other like magnets and have been inseparable since.

“I was going to get some water from the stream and start boiling it,” he explains, rooting through Amber’s backpack then lifting the pot victoriously.

The nearby water source was the main reason for choosing this spot to make camp. That and it wasn’t near any of the trails that cross through the preserve, just in case I’m wrong about there not being any patrols this time of year.

I finish with the tent poles, and I’m about to offer to get the water, when a deep growl echoes from the darkness. All three of us freeze and turn toward the sound as a cold chill rushes through me.

“That sounded big,” Mateo whispers.

I agree with him, expecting some large predator to come charging at us from the darkness any moment.

“What kinds of animals might be living in this preserve?” I whisper, dragging my eyes away from the darkness to glance at Amber, who looks spooked. She’s the forestry major and the one who would know better than Mateo, who is majoring in IT, and me who is going for business .

“Just the usual kind,” she whispers back and I start wracking my brain for what the usual kind are.

“That sounded like a dog,” Mateo hisses. “There aren’t wolves out here, right?”

“Wolves haven’t been in these mountains in a hundred years or something,” Amber tries to assure us.

“Maybe it was a coyote,” I say. Although, whatever made that noise didn’t sound like any coyote I’ve ever heard.

I strain my ears for any other sounds, but the forest has gone eerily quiet. Has it been like this the whole time? A chill runs down my spine as I get the feeling that whatever made that sound is still out there, watching me from the shadows.

Amber and Mateo go back to talking quietly, but I keep my ears strained. Listening past the crackling of the fire for what might still be out there.

Quit it. You’re just freaking yourself out.

I tell myself as I unroll the sleeping bags inside the tent while Amber starts dinner.

She seems to have forgotten all about the creepy growl, but decided to skip heading into the dark forest to get water, and is teasing Mateo about the size of his fire as she fits the skillet and saucepan over the grill we brought with us.

Their easy banter is reassuring, and my heart eventually slows back to its normal rhythm as we settle into a normal routine. The rest of the night is uneventful as we enjoy the relaxing quiet.

It’s late when I crawl into my sleeping bag. The normal nighttime sounds are soothing, and they quickly lull me into a deep sleep.

I’m enjoying the beautiful scenery as we hike through the thick forest. Amber and Mateo are walking slightly in front of me, holding hands and talking quietly. The silence surrounding us is the comfortable kind. The kind you don’t notice right away.

Dappled sunlight filters through the leaves as early morning mist swirls gently between the trunks of beech and oak.

A gold and black spotted butterfly captures my attention when it flutters across the narrow game trail we’ve been following.

It’s awfully late in the season for them to be out, and I frown as my eyes follow its chaotic trail around trees and over bushes until it eventually disappears.

“Hey Amb, isn’t it kinda late for butterflies—” my words die on my tongue when I drag my eyes away from the insect to find my friends gone. They were just there, no more than three steps ahead of me.

“Amber?”

My head swivels from side to side, trying to find a sign they detoured from the path for a make-out session; it wouldn’t be the first time, but there is no sign of them. The trees that line the game trail are dense, but I should still be able to see Mateo’s orange Patagonia jacket.

I shuffle to a stop. Where did they go?

Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shout. “Amber? Mateo!”

The only reply is the gentle sound of the wind through the trees and cheerful bird songs.

“Come on, guys. This isn’t funny,” I complain, straining my ears for the sound of Amber’s tittering laughter, but there’s nothing.

Unsure what else to do, I turn back the way I’ve been walking.

Maybe they went back to camp? Except, I know they wouldn’t have taken off without letting me know .

I’m walking back the way I just came when suddenly the trail I’ve been following disappears. Coming to an abrupt stop, I scan the thick underbrush, trying to pick up where I lost it. My confusion turns to fear when I realize the sun is starting to set.

What the fuck is going on?

What is happening? How can everything be as it should one minute, then the next I’m standing in the middle of an unfamiliar woods, alone, with the shadows lengthening hours early, like someone hit a fast-forward button.

My fear turns to panic. I’ve never gotten this turned around before.

Ok. Calm down, Hana . I take some deep breaths to calm my racing pulse. I’m not a novice hiker. Even if I’ve never found myself in a situation like this, I know what to do.

Taking another deep breath, I mentally go through the list, the rules my dad has drilled into me since I was a kid, and we started hiking together.

Stay calm . Panicking only distracts you from thinking clearly.

Stay put . No one will be able to find you if you’re wandering around getting yourself even more lost.

Assess the situation . I take another look around me trying to find something I recognize. A landmark, anything. Except there is nothing, so I move on to the final rule.

Orient yourself.

I always keep a compass clipped to my?—

I reach across my body to my shoulder where my backpack strap should be—only to realize it’s missing, too.

No! No no no ! I had it when we started this hike, I’m sure of it. I never go anywhere without it.

Shit, no gear means no compass. Or supplies. The sun is sinking behind the trees like it’s being pulled below the horizon, taking the last rays of daylight with it. No supplies mean no shelter to keep warm if I end up stuck out here overnight.

My breaths come in short pants, my heart racing.

Don’t panic. Rule one, remember? Stay. Calm.

Cupping my hands around my mouth, I yell as loud as I can. “Aaaaaaamber!!! Mateoooooo!! This isn’t fucking funny!”