Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

ISLA

I was sore.

Hiking up a mountain was no joke. The backs of my thighs and my calves were screaming as I navigated the terrain after spending the night sleeping on a concrete pad. The shelter, fondly known as The Hilton , hadn’t been crowded, but my naturally introverted nature had me steering away from the small building where hikers often slept, and practicing setting up the tent I’d need to rely on for the next two nights.

I’d set it all up and get some solid sleep due to the bone deep exhaustion I felt after climbing uphill half the day, but I was still up before the sun when others at the shelter started getting back onto the trail.

After I’d managed to get my gear rolled up and tucked into my pack, I walked to the edge of the camping area that overlooked Fontana Dam and watched the sun rising over the small lake at the base. As far as the eye could see, there were rolling hills and mountains cropping up through the tree line, the foliage brilliant shades of green mixed in with the vivid hues of the changing season.

The hikers in the area slowly cleared out, and I mentally psyched myself up, heading toward the bathhouse to brush my teeth and use the last toilet I knew I’d be seeing for a while.

Part of me wanted to extend my trip and hike more of the iconic trail, but I knew I needed to focus and get this book done before I ran off to be a thru-hiker. Although the thought of escaping into the wilderness to avoid Kristine’s wrath had its merits.

Once I felt as refreshed as I knew I’d get until I got to the cabin rental, I pulled my pack on, settled my hat on my head and started off for the next stretch of trail, preparing myself for a long day.

The trail was quieter than I expected, my thoughts left to meander as I focused on looking for tripping hazards as I wound up and down the trail, following the markers and enjoying the mild fall day.

I’d only seen a few southbound hikers, passing them with a smile and a nod. Then I was alone again, left to try to plot this book in my head while also trying not to fall down the side of a mountain.

Maybe I should have been paying attention to the sides of the trail.

Maybe I should have left Fontana earlier.

But whatever had caused my terrible timing wasn’t something I’d expected awaiting me when I reached the top of a long stretch of trail and turned to the west.

A flash of gray fur caught my eye, and a chirp was the only sound I heard before my pack was suddenly heavier and a tiny paw was pulling at my loose ponytail.

“Oh, shit!” I shrieked, spinning around and batting at the creature. “Get off! Get off!”

It just chirped in my ear, mocking me as I felt the flap on the top of my pack being loosened while a furry tail whacked me in the face.

The culprit of my trail side mugging was too heavy to be a squirrel, but I couldn’t get a good look as I tried to shake the little fucker off. I didn’t want to hurt it, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Stumbling toward the closest tree with low limbs, I swung myself sideways, trying to scrape it off me, instead scratching my cheek on the bark in the process. That only seemed to make it angry, and tiny claws dug into my shoulder as it tried to hold on.

“Not today, furry Satan,” I growled, flinging myself against the tree harder, thankful my long sleeves kept me from scratching the shit out of myself.

After the third time I slammed my pack into the tree trunk, the weight lifted, along with my hat, and I spun around, meeting an irate raccoon eye-to-eye. The rabid little varmint just narrowed his—my red hat clutched between its paws—and glared at me, sending off a litany of chirpy growls before it let out something that sounded like a bark and lunged at me.

“Oh, fuck!” I shrieked and turned, taking off down the trail, screaming at the top of my lungs. I was sure I was scaring off all the wildlife in the area, but I didn’t care as the tiny menace chased me, murder in its eyes.

Oh fuck, was this raccoon rabid?

I was too far from civilization to get treated for rabies, the thought of which had me running faster, trying not to let the weight of my pack knock me over as I wound through the trail, the sound of twigs snapping underneath my hiking boots joining my frantic screams.

Glancing back, I screamed again, my furry assailant not far behind, with no intention of stopping.

“Go away!” I yelled, and I swear it lifted a paw and flashed me its tiny middle finger.

I had to be dreaming. That was it. I was overtired and trapped in a nightmare where I was getting chased by a feral woodland creature hell bent on attacking me.

“Fuck!”

My boot caught on a root sticking out of the soil, and I bounced hard into a tree. I needed to watch where I was going more carefully, but with no signs of it slowing its pursuit, I needed to find somewhere to hide.

Getting chased by a psychotic trash panda was not on my Appalachian Trail bingo card.

“God damn it, leave me alone!”

Amused chirping carried toward me, and I turned my head briefly. Which turned out to be a terrible idea, because when I turned back toward the trail, a large rock was only a foot away, and I had no way of avoiding it.

“Holy shit!” My scream echoed through the trees as pain radiated up my leg, followed by the wind being knocked out of me as I hit the ground. Hard.

Blinking, I tried to catalog the sensations running through my body, the one standing out being the burning sensation radiating from my ankle.

“Oh God,” I moaned as I tried to sit up, my pack dragging me backward and my head spinning as I flailed, colorful spots dancing in my vision as I stared up at the gray skies above the tree line.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the formerly innocuous looking clouds decided to unleash a downpour, soaking my face as I tried to regain my bearings.

Closing my eyes, I tried to breathe through the pain, knowing I was royally fucked. Not only was I alone. I was now injured. I couldn’t sit up without feeling like I was going to throw up, and as the sound of leaves rustling to the side of the trail was followed by a series of distressed chirps, I knew my pursuer had finally caught up with me.

“Help!” I screamed, scanning the woods to my side, fighting against the weight of my pack like a turtle stuck upside down.

A tiny gray head burst through a pile of leaves a few feet away and I screamed again, trying to scoot myself backward. Sharp, stabbing pains radiated up my calf, but I kept scrambling, trying to get away from this crazy little deviant.

“Go away! Leave me alone!” I shouted, and it sat up further, my red hat clasped between its paws.

It chirped at me, but didn’t come closer, just watching. Knowing I was easy prey.

“Help!” My voice was hoarse as I continued screaming, pausing briefly to catch my breath.

The rain pelted me as I laid there, my clothing drenched, knowing that I was beyond screwed. Maybe this was what had happened to Eliza. She’d gotten injured and was attacked by wildlife. Her body quietly decomposing in the middle of the woods, and now she haunted the mountains, sending her army of rabid raccoons after unsuspecting hikers as karmic revenge for no one ever finding her.

I really had to stop listening to true crime podcasts and watching horror movies.

“Hello!” a voice bellowed from down the trail, the sound deep and masculine, sending a shiver up my spine. Or maybe that was hypothermia settling in as the rain came down harder, the cold drops soaking into my hiking clothes making me shiver.

“Here!” I screamed, simultaneously hoping he heard me, and that he wasn’t some blood thirsty lumberjack who waited alongside the trail waiting for his next victim to get lost so he could carry them off into the woods.

The angle of my body kept me from seeing him, but I could hear his approach until a pair of worn brown boots came into view and the glint of something metal near his feet making my eyes widen.

“Are you okay?” he asked, but I still couldn’t see his face with the rain dripping down my face.

“Do I look like I’m okay?”

He chuckled, stepping closer, and my pulse pounded as what he was holding came into view.

“Maybe not.” His voice was deep and rich, but that wasn’t what had my pulse pounding and another frantic scream escaping my wet lips.

His forward motion stopped as I tried to right myself, crying out as I put weight on my ankle and rolled away from him, lifting my knees and curling into a ball as much as I could with a fifty-pound pack strapped to my back.

In between hoarse screams, I could hear his voice, a series of animalistic chirps joining in.

“You… ass… what the fuck did you…”

Covering my ears, I tried to block them out, deducing that the serial killer lumberjack had to be in cahoots with my raccoon attacker. Clearly, they worked together to bring down their prey, and I was their latest victim.

“Hey,” his voice was closer, and I curled tighter, not that it’d protect me from the blade of an axe. But my protective instincts were on high alert. “Calm down.”

That was the last thing he should be saying. Especially since there was the sharp, shiny blade currently inches from my face.

“Please don’t kill me.”