1. Parker

1

Dear Diary—

Dear Journal?—

Dear Whoever?—

Dear Whatever?—

Today is the worst day ever. No, scratch that, because tomorrow could definitely be even worse. Today is the worst day so far.

My bright idea to go to a dry cabin and try my hand at "real wild living" feels like it's blowing right up in my face. I can't believe I thought trying to rough it would actually prove something to the guys back at Wild Woods. Or prove something to myself. But now, all I can think about is grabbing a glass of water from the sink. Or slipping into a warm bath.

Both of which are impossible because of the whole dry cabin thing.

Whose idea was this, anyway? A dry cabin?

Who wants to rent a cabin with absolutely no running water?

More like a torture chamber.

I closed my journal with a thud before letting my head sink down to the wooden desk in front of me.

It was true. I was practically living in a torture chamber. The worst part?

I'd done this to myself. No one had encouraged me to come out to the woods and sign up for the hardest thing I'd ever tried to do. It wasn't like I'd told anyone where I was actually going, what I planned on doing while I was out here. I wanted it to be a surprise, a fun story to tell when I made my way back to Wild Woods HQ, the kind of thing Jacob and Damon wouldn't believe.

Although, the way things were going right now, Jacob and Damon were going to find out about my trip via a news story about a camper who just couldn't hack it, his remains found on the side of some river…

"Good job, Parker," I muttered to myself as I stood up from the desk. "What a spectacular way to die."

I was only halfway through admonishing myself when I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I quickly answered it, leaning against the desk as I spoke. "You've got Parker."

"Parker! There you are," Jacob said on the other end of the line. "What are you up to? I saw you took some time off but I don't think you filled out the box?—"

"You mean the optional box?" I smirked even though he couldn't see. "The one where we have a choice to tell you where we're going or not?"

"Optional. Right," Jacob hummed, "you're right. I guess I just assumed that?—"

"That you have a right to know where I'm going and who I'm with?" I playfully pressed. "Because you're the oldest and Mom left you in charge?"

I could feel Jacob rolling his eyes at me even if the conversation was only verbal. I'd known Jacob long enough to know saying something like that would slightly annoy him even if it was true. Even though Jacob, Damon, and I were all co-owners in Wild Woods, Jacob functioned more like our leader and CEO. He was focused and analytical, much less poetic and Thoreau-like than Damon, and way less free-spirited and fun than me. We balanced each other out, though, each one of us contributing something that made the company run smoothly.

Of course, my being absent was going to throw us off balance, just for a little bit. Jacob and Damon had a good handle on managing guests and reserving cabins for the outdoors experience we promised clients at Wild Woods. Now that I thought about it, that was probably why Jacob was so curious about where I'd gone off to, in the first place.

Just so he'd be able to know when to expect that balance back at the office.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," Jacob replied. "It's not like you to not brag about where you're going for vacation. I thought something might be up."

"Bragging?" I let out a faux gasp. "Is that really what you think of me?"

"It's what I know of you." Jacob lightly chuckled. "Seriously, though, Parker. Wherever you are, stay safe, okay? We've got about as much excitement as we can handle over here."

"Is Damon threatening to do a scene from Magic Mike again?"

"Very funny, Parker." I sensed yet another eyeroll in Jacob's tone. "I'll catch up with you later. I need to get back to filing some invoices."

"Have fun filing invoices. I need to get back to catching a wave. Or skiing down the side of a mountain. Who knows? Maybe I'll even climb a volcano!" It was the last thing I said before I ended the call.

I slumped back into my seat, my eyes flying up toward the ceiling, my phone clutched against my chest.

Fuck.

Filing invoices sounded like a dream right now.

Would it be the worst thing in the world if I just called Jacob to come get me?

"No. You've got this Parker," I murmured to myself as I sat up in my chair. "You can do anything you put your mind to. You just… have to put your mind to it."

I let out a low groan as I looked around the cabin, trying to figure out what I should do next.

Dinner.

I should have dinner.

The suggestion went on like a lightbulb in my head as my eyes glanced from the fireplace to the kitchen, a realization sinking into the back of my brain. In a dry cabin, dinner was going to be a lot more complicated with a lot more moving parts than usual.

Which meant that if I wanted to eat at a decent hour, I should've started cooking hours ago.

"Fuck!" I hastily jumped out of my seat as I scrambled toward the front door of the cabin, needing to search for wood for the fireplace so I didn't starve tonight.

Oh, and so I wouldn't freeze to death tonight, either.

I was having the weirdest dream.

The whole cabin smelled like the fireplace, the comforting scent of burning wood floating all around me, under me, on every side of me. It was almost like I was somehow lying on top of it, moving along with the scent, weightless and light.

There was also so much… brightness.

Like the sun had somehow found its way inside the cabin, cracks of it peeking out from every corner. It reminded me of standing too close to the fire pit when I was a little kid, just trying to stick my s'mores in a little too close to the source of the flame, the way it would warm my face and dance in my vision.

Great. Now, I'm craving s'mores.

I tried to wake up from the dream, hazy thoughts of chocolate and marshmallows moving across my memories and my tongue. But when my hands reached out for the side of my bed, I felt someone's arms, big and strong, keeping me in place.

"Stop." A voice suddenly commanded, deep and filled with authority. "Stay still. I've got you."

"Who the hell are you?" I asked the voice in the darkness, my eyes somehow too heavy to open, my body now feeling that same heaviness, too. "What are you—where are you?—"

"We're almost there. Just hold on."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded to know something, anything, as the heaviness felt like it was driving itself down into my bones, like I was sinking even though there wasn't any water around for miles.

"I've got him! I've got him!" the voice shouted. "He's still breathing!"

I tried to open my mouth to speak again but this time nothing came out, my lips having succumbed to the heaviness now, too.

What the hell was happening to me?

It was the last thought I could process before my brain became heavy, my thoughts blinking in and out before I drifted into oblivion.

Before the whole world turned from bright and sunny to a seemingly endless night.

I was having the weirdest dream again.

This time, I was in an unfamiliar bed, one that looked nothing like the one in the dry cabin. It felt like one of those memory foam mattresses, the ones people who rented cabins at Wild Woods were trying to get away from, another symbol of a city life that was a little too soft. I took a moment to glance around the room, taking in the framed photos of nature, perfect shots of the ocean, the mountains, even shots of beautiful trees in the forest.

I moved away from the bed, my hands instinctively reaching out toward the photos, their snapshots of the world so perfect I wondered if I'd be able to touch them with my fingertips, my dream world allowing me a chance at something I never could've done if I was actually awake.

But then, the footsteps started.

They were heavy in the hall, or at least what I thought was the hall, and they were headed straight toward me. A chill of terror went down my spine, knowing that usually when I had nightmares this was the part when I woke up, the horrible thing never having the chance to reach me, to touch me, to hurt me.

Fuck.

Was this real?

Another chill of terror moved right through me as I scanned my new surroundings for a weapon. I hastily reached for a large, dark umbrella, closing my hand tightly and holding onto its handle like it was the only thing standing between me and certain death. I then stood right beside the door, flattening myself against the wall as I waited for someone to appear around the corner, someone who might've had the worst intentions for me, someone that I needed to get the jump on.

When he finally appeared around the corner, I didn't waste a second. I brought the umbrella down hard against his chest, hoping to take him by surprise. But despite the collision between umbrella and chest, the stranger didn't move a muscle. He stared down at me and the umbrella with confusion, as if I'd decided to attack him with a limp ramen noodle and he couldn't figure out if I was crazy or if I really thought it was going to work.

"I think the smoke inhalation may still be affecting you," the stranger muttered as he calmly took the umbrella out of my grip. "But I'm glad to see you're up. That means I won't have to call the hospital."

"Who are you?" I demanded as I took a step away from him. "And where are we? I swear to God, if you try to harvest my organs, I'll?—"

"Attack me with another umbrella?" The stranger smirked. "Pro tip: if an umbrella is your only weapon, your best bet is opening it in front of someone's face to catch them off guard. That might have actually bought you some time to run."

"Is that something I need to do? Run?"

"No." The stranger shook his head. "Not from me. Although, it might be funny if you tried."

"Who are you?" I pressed again, crossing my arms over my chest.

"My name's Nicholas," he answered. "Nicholas Cooper. I'm a fireman with the local unit out here."

"Fireman?" I couldn't hide the confusion in my tone.

Nicholas nodded before he spoke. "There was a dry, dead tree a little too close to your cabin. A stray lightning strike hit it and the rest is history. Your cabin was already in flames by the time I, and one of the guys from the station, got to you. You're lucky. We just happened to be near the area."

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God…" My words trailed off, as my body filled with a familiar heaviness. "I could've died in a fire… Oh, my God…"

"Yeah, it can be a bit of a shock." Nicholas shrugged. "But the good news is that you made it out just fine. The other good news is that we won't have to bother any of the EMTs this late at night, since it's already after midnight?—"

"It's after midnight?" My eyes went wide. "Shit. I don't even—How is any of this happening right now? I swear, I just made dinner and went to sleep?—"

"Like I said, it can be a bit of a shock," he repeated. "Just give yourself some time to process everything and you'll be fine?—"

"I need to get back."

"What?"

"All of my stuff!" I shouted, even though it wasn't intentional. There was just too much emotion coursing through my veins, so much that I could barely think properly. "I need to get my stuff before everything's all burned up?—"

"You don't need to worry about that part," he insisted. "Anything that survives the fire, my guys can have dropped off here. Besides, it's too dangerous for you to?—"

"I'm going back," I said, interrupting him. "I need to go back. Get out of my way."

"I'm sorry. I don't think I made myself clear," he replied, closing the distance between us. "You won't be going anywhere tonight, Mr…?"

"Evans. Parker Evans."

"Mr. Evans. Right. You won't be going anywhere tonight, Mr. Evans."

"Why? Because I'm some kind of captive?" I scoffed. "You can't just keep me here against my will. That's illegal."

"I also can't let you run right back into danger," he said, matter-of-factly. "That goes against my code of ethics. It goes against good common sense, too."

Nicholas paused for a moment before he quietly added, "Although, you know what they say about common sense. It really isn't so common."

"Did you just tell me I don't have any common sense?"

Well, Mr. Evans… you are telling a trained fireman that you're thinking about running back into a building that's literally on fire." Nicholas quirked an eyebrow. "Does that really make any sense to you?"

"No… It doesn't," I admitted, sinking down against the end of the mattress. "Shit. Fuck."

"It'll be all right, Mr. Evans. These things happen."

"Yeah, of course, you would say that. You deal with fires all the time." I groaned and plopped back against the bed. "This was the last thing I needed to happen to me."

"Don't take it personally. Nature isn't for everybody," he replied. "Sometimes she takes some real getting used to. Sometimes people never get used to it."

I let out a broken laugh, half amused, half insulted.

"Something funny, Mr. Evans?"

"Oh, Nicholas, you have no idea." I laughed again at the concept of running an outdoors nature experience while being rejected by nature herself.

God.

The irony was killing me.

"Not to overstep…" Nicholas started and stopped, with hesitancy clear in his tone.

"Not to overstep but?" I pressed him to finish his sentence.

"Would you be interested in grabbing a drink?" he finally asked. "It's a lot safer than trying to go back to that cabin. Besides, it seems like you're having a pretty rough night and there's a bar that's not too far from here. You can always say no, of course. I just wanted to extend the offer to see if you were?—"

"Let's go." I was already halfway out the door before Nicholas finished his sentence, heading into the hall. "Drinks are on you, by the way! My wallet's probably ash by now."