Expecting to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

As she waited for him to pick up, she listened to the sounds of the forest, the whisper of pine branches overhead, the flutter of birds amidst the trees, the soft chortles and chirps they emitted a balm to her fevered thoughts.

No answer. She didn’t leave a voice message. Couldn’t.

She glanced at the face of her phone and saw no quick responses to her texts.

Of course he was mad at her.

He was always mad lately.

She texted Donny next and told him she was heading to “their” spot up near the reservoir. She asked him to meet her or text her, then headed up the hiking trail that led over the hill. The trail was steep, a rigorous climb that took over twenty minutes, and she was sweating by the time she wound up the switchbacks to the ridge. From there, it was a quick climb down. She paused. Caught her breath. Gathered her courage. Noticed how dark the woods had become.

The sun had settled over the western mountains, and long shadows were fingering through the stands of pine, hemlock, and aspen. The birds had quieted, and there were a few bats swooping overhead. The silence was strange and . . .

Snap!

She turned at the sound of a twig breaking.

The hairs on the back of her nape lifted.

Nothing. It’s nothing!

She squinted, her gaze racing from one thicket to the next, but nothing moved, no animal showed itself. Not even a rabbit or racoon stirred in the thickening umbra, at least none she could see.

Just your imagination.

You’re freaked, that’s it.

And yet suddenly she felt something wasn’t quite right in this all-too-still forest, this place where she’d come for solace.

She bit her lip as she remembered every damned zombie, werewolf, and vampire movie on TV she’d ever watched about a girl alone in the wilderness.

Stop it!

Making one last sweep of the area and seeing nothing out of place, she continued, but goose bumps raised on the back of her arms, and she felt as if hidden eyes were following her every move.

It’s nothing.

She kept telling herself that over and over, but her willing mind went to images of snarling cougars and black bears, maybe wolves, too. Hadn’t they been reintroduced or something? Hadn’t she heard about that in school or something? And what about bobcats and . . . oh, God, snakes. Rattlers. Hadn’t her father told her they hunted at night? Or was she wrong?

Oh

. Shit.

Relax. You know this place. You’ve never encountered anything scarier than a porcupine waddling through the brush, right?

Nerves tight as bowstrings, she kept moving, deeper into the woods, her ears straining, her pulse pounding. She heard nothing more, no footfalls, no rustling through the undergrowth, no heavy breathing, but still she felt those eyes upon her.

As darkness encroached, she chanced the flashlight app on her cell phone to make certain she was sticking to the trail. Of course she was almost out of battery life, and she didn’t want anyone or anything to see her anyway, so she used the light sparingly as she made her way to the canyon floor.

She heard and smelled the creek before she saw it, a dark ribbon slicing through the woods. The path she was following downhill bled into a dusty trail that ran along the banks of the creek, which serpentined through this part of the canyon floor. When she reached the intersection, she turned upstream, walking quickly, hearing the water gurgle and splash over stones before it eddied in deeper pools, imagining the sound of footsteps following behind, though every time she stopped suddenly, she heard nothing.

She let out her breath.

You’re an idiot. An idiot who has psyched herself out. This is all just because you’re nervous, you know. No one is following you. No bloodthirsty creature is hunting you. No zombies are walking stiff-legged over this rough terrain. No, Destiny, the only freak out here tonight is you . . . pregnant, stupid you.

So much for a mental pep talk, she thought as she continued. Through sparse pine and hemlock thickets, she made her way to the spot he’d agreed to meet her, where the trees gave way to a parking area, rarely used any longer, the gravel that had once covered the lot now choked with dry weeds.

Could she tell him?