Wild Collision (Us 4)

The way it lifts my heart.

The way one song, one note, can entirely change my mood, my perspective, my thoughts.

I think back to our first night in D.C. It feels so far away now, but it was only last week. I remember how comfortable I was to be in a club, drinking myself senseless with a nameless woman in my lap.

I can see Mia’s disapproving look now, and it angers me because I was content until she came along. Everything was fine, and now … I don’t know whether I’m rediscovering my old self or changing, but it’s jarring.

Rinsing the shampoo out of my hair I shut off the shower and get out, drying my hair and skin roughly. I throw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and head out of my room to grab something to eat before we go.

Knowing Cannon, wherever he’s taking us, he won’t be stopping for food or pee breaks.

* * *

An hour later the three of us find ourselves hiking through the goddamn woods behind Cannon.

“I thought we were going sight-seeing,” I gripe. “All I fucking see is trees, trees, and more fucking trees.”

Cannon whips around and his pale green eyes flash with irritation. “All I fucking hear is you complaining, complaining, and more fucking complaining.”

“It’s hot as balls out here,” I mumble. “Why wouldn’t I complain?”

Cannon only picks up his pace.

Asshole.

We trek behind him, mile after mile. I’m in shape, it’s not like I don’t work out, but I’m used to busting my ass in the gym. Not outside, in the roaring late summer heat, with all kinds of sounds that could be any freaking animal.

It isn’t long before the trail grows wider, the trees clearing, and we see why Cannon wanted to come here.

“Holy fuck,” Rush gasps out and I have to agree with him.

The four of us stand side by side, staring at the mountains, a river rushing below. The view stretches for miles. None of us seems to have any more words. I don’t know how long we stand there staring, but I know it must be a while.

Sweat stings my eyes and I rub at them.

“I brought food,” Cannon announces and finds a spot to sit in the shade, removing his backpack.

The three of us follow him as he doles out the food—turkey sandwiches and chips. He then tosses each of us a bottle of water. I gulp mine down greedily.

Even after we’ve finished eating, we linger, unable to leave such a stunning view behind. It’s inspiring, the beauty of it. The way the green of the trees seems too vibrant to be real, the sunlight sparkling on the water below, even the mountains seem larger than life even if I know larger ones exist elsewhere.

We start back down the trail in better spirits than when we came up.

Laughing, joking, and occasionally breaking into song.

“Do you hear something?” Fox stops suddenly.

We grow quiet.

“I don’t hear anything,” Rush says.

“Shh,” Cannon hushes, holding up a hand.

Then we hear it. Shuffling, sniffing, and a growl.

“Oh, shit,” I curse. “It sounds big.”

“What do we do?” Fox squeaks, his voice high.