"There's been an...incident."
"What kind of incident?"
"The kind you're not going to like. Roberts and McLaughlin are dead."
"How did that happen?"
"I'm not sure exactly, but I know they made contact with the girl prior to their deaths. They radioed it in at 2100 hours."
"And the girl?"
"From what we can tell, she got away."
"Do we have any sort of location on her?"
"Not exactly, just a general area. We think the storm carried her pretty far south."
"So two agents are dead and the girl is missing. You're doing quite the bang up job Captain. At this rate, you'll be stripped of your title by morning."
"I wouldn't do that quite yet sir. We have leverage."
"Leverage?"
"The friend. We have her."
"Well that's something at least. Bring her to me. And in the meantime FIND THE GIRL!"
***
We've been walking for miles in soaking wet clothes trying to make it to the road, any road. My entire body aches, especially my shoulder. It took quite the beating when I was clinging to Wyler's arm, holding on for dear life. I heard a snap when the tree lodged itself in between the crevasse, and it occurs to me that my shoulder might be dislocated, but I can't bring myself to look, plus Wyler would probably force me to stop and rest and that's the last thing we should be doing right now. I'm shivering and my teeth are chattering, but there's no time to stop. It's cold, but not freezing. We can make it through the night.
Luckily our clothes and skin are covered in mud, which allows us to blend into the darkness. If there's someone following our tracks, it will be hard for them to spot us. The mud will also serve as protection for our skin once the hot desert sun rises. The cold is miserable, but hiking through the desert with no water or shelter when temps reach upwards of 100 degrees this time of year, might kill us. Our only choice is to continue pressing on through the night until we can find help. The problem is, I'm not sure anymore who we can trust.
We've been walking in silence for at least an hour, both of us either speechless or too afraid to speak. I'm happy for the quiet. I need to wrap my head around what just happened. When this all first started, that day at school, it felt like the whole world was spiraling out of control, but none of it feels random any more. It's...personal.
"Do you know who those men were?" Wyler says, breaking my train of thought.
"No," I reply, trudging through the dark. I keep my eyes to the ground, watching every purposeful step, hoping one of them doesn't land me on a rattlesnake.
"They knew your name Ever."
He sounds irritated, as if I'm keeping something from him.
"Do you know how?"
"Your guess is as good as mine." It was the same thing I had been wondering.
"Ever, think. You have to know."
"Look," I say, stopping in my tracks and turning back towards him. I don't know why he's badgering me. "If I knew, I would tell you, but I don't, so I think we need to shut up, keep moving and focus on finding help before the sun comes up."
I hate speaking to him this way, but I'm just as frustrated as he is and having him grill me about it doesn't help. I need to focus. I need to piece this together.
"Not good enough Ever," he says, grabbing my bad arm. I try with all my might not to scream out or flinch at the searing pain that courses through my body. I don't want him to know how bad it is, or he'll make us stop.
"I can tell you know more than you're letting on." He steps in front of me. I move to the right and then the left, but he blocks my way. "We're not going another step further until you start talking. I want some answers. What did your aunt say to you?"
I can see in his eyes that he's not going to let up or move out of my way until I give him something.
"She told me to look for the hole in the ground and to try and remember."
"Could she have been any more cryptic?" He shakes his head.
"I know. That's why I didn't say anything. It sounds crazy."
"It might have sounded crazy earlier today, but not now. Do you know what she meant by a hole in the ground?"
I shake my head. "I know it's probably not the one we almost just died in."
"And what about remembering? Do you know what she was referring to?
"If I knew the answer, believe me, I would tell you. All I know is that my dreams have been getting stronger, and I see the images even when I'm awake now. I know I can figure this out. I just need more time."
"Unfortunately, that's not something we have."
"Exactly, that's why you should get out of my way so that we can keep going." The words come off harsh and I immediately feel bad. I see the hurt in his eyes. "Sorry," I say.
"Whatever, let's just keep moving."
He's irritated, but I don't have time to indulge his behavior. We have to keep going, not just for us, but for Lex. We need to get to her before more of those men do, which is challenging considering we have no idea where Lex she is.
"The map my aunt gave us is long gone, but I remember seeing a small town just east of here. If I'm right, then we'll be there soon."
"How far?"
"Two miles, maybe three."
I look to the stars as my guide. It was something that my dad taught me on one of our camping adventures. We dragged our sleeping bags out of the tent and laid under the stars. I was scared at first. It was so dark and eerily quiet. But then he pointed out all the constellations and how to use them as a map of the world. I was so enthralled that I forgot about the darkness and the stillness of the night. For several years, I became obsessed with stars and planets. I told my parents I wanted to be an astronomer or an astronaut and that I wanted to live on the moon or discover an unexplored planet. My father chuckled. "You can do anything you want to kiddo," he said, tousling my hair. And I truly believed I could, until my obsession died out when I started high school. It wasn't "cool" for a girl to be into science. I was supposed to be interested in make-up and clothes and so that's what I did. I tried to fit in, but that didn't last long either.
"Well, let's get going then," Wyler says as he takes the lead, or at least he thinks he's leading. He's headed in the right direction, so I don't say anything. That was another thing I learned during high school; boys don't like being told what to do by a girl. They love to take charge and to feel in control, so I let him think he is.
Thankfully, the stars do not fail us. We walk for hours through the night, without speaking much, focusing instead on each step in front of us. Just as the sun starts to rise, I see a few small buildings off in the distance. My mouth is parched and I can't stop licking my lips. The mud caked on my skin has hardened and is beginning to crack and flake off. I pray that there's food and water in this tiny town.
The heat hits quickly and by the time we've reached the edge of town, I'm about to collapse. My arm is throbbing from where it nearly got ripped out of its socket. I think of all the times I've narrowly avoided death over the past few days. It feels like I'm in that movie Final Destination, where you're constantly cheating death, but eventually it catches up to you. It's funny though; I don't really fear death anymore. At this point, I've lost just about everyone I love, that is, except for Wyler and Lex, and for all I know I may have lost Lex too. At this point, it's living that scares me more than death. Life without the people I love seems unbearable, and a life living alongside Wyler, while not being able to be with him, seems torturous.
I follow in Wyler's footsteps as we make our way out of the desert. The temperature has risen significantly and somewhere along the journey, he removed his shirt. I'm grateful for the distraction. His back is toned and muscular, not in a beefcake kind of way, but just the right amount that I have to pick my jaw up off the ground. I remember the summer after freshman year when he came back from soccer camp. He was different: taller, more muscular, hotter. I think that's when I knew I would have a hard time continuing to hide my feelings. Problem was, I wasn't the only one who had noticed how he'd changed.
"Is it just me or did Wyler get really hot over the summer?" Lex asked one afternoon when we were all hanging out at the community pool.
"What? Oh, yeah, I guess. I hadn't really noticed," I lied. I don't know why.
"Well he seems to be noticing you," she nudged me with her elbow. "He's been watching you all day."
"What? No way. He's like my brother."
"A brother you wanna do," she laughed.
"Gross Lex!"
"What?" she asked innocently, as if she hadn't just implied something totally nasty.
"I mean, I guess he's pretty cute."
I pulled my sunglasses down slightly to check him out. I cocked my head to the right, admiring his backside. He flicked his head back, whipping strands of wet hair across his face as little beads of water flung through the air. He seemed to be moving in slow-mo like a scene from Baywatch. He turned and his eyes met mine. Busted. He gave me a sexy little smirk, knowing full well that he'd just caught me checking him out. I immediately pushed my sunglasses up and pretended to read my magazine as my cheeks turned crimson red. I lifted the magazine higher to hide my embarrassment.
But it wasn't just Wyler that caught me staring at him in a different way, it was Lex too, and that's all it took for her to decide she wanted him. Lex always wanted what she couldn't have.
"Over there," Wyler says pointing to what looks like a small grocery store near the periphery of town. "It's probably best if we don't go too far into town in case we need to escape back into the desert."
I don't bother to tell him that the desert won't provide much protection in the daylight. We'll be spotted immediately. There will be nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
We post up behind a ditch near the road and watch the store for a while, looking for signs of life. It looks as if it has been deserted, but appearances aren't always what they seem these days. I grab a handful of small rocks and stuff them into my pockets. It seems like rocks are my only method of defense lately. Wyler looks down at my bulging pockets and raises his right eyebrow.
"Bringing a knife to a gun fight, eh?"
"You got a better idea?"
"I guess not," he concedes and grabs some himself.
After waiting and watching the store for about ten minutes, we decide to make our move. We crawl slowly out of the ditch and move quietly towards the building. We're both on the lookout as we approach the doors of the store. They open automatically and we tentatively step inside, Wyler first, then I follow with a fist full of pebbles. This is so ridiculous; I think to myself.
The store is one of those quintessential tiny grocery marts that you would only find in a small town. There's way more canned food then fresh fruits and vegetables, not just because the produce section is small, but because it's pretty much been ransacked. Someone has been here, whether it's the townspeople or someone else passing through.
Wyler grabs a cart and starts loading it up.
"Don't go crazy. We can only take what we can carry," I remind him.
"Go see if you can find a backpack or something," he motions with his head towards the dry goods side of the store.
I pace up and down the aisles looking for a bag or basket, anything that will allow us to take more than what we can fit in our pebble-filled pockets. Finally, I find a small satchel. It won't hold more than ten items or so, but it's better than nothing. I fill it with some cans of beans and corn and I'm thankful that, at the last minute, I remember to grab a can opener.
"That could have been disastrous," I say aloud to myself, imagining us miles from this place when I realized that we have no way of opening our food stash. Wyler would never have let me hear the end of it. But what I don't realize, is that the prospect of being lost in the middle of the desert without a can opener, is the least of our problems, because right when I think we've caught a break, the lights go out and I hear the sound of a gun being cocked.