CHAPTER FIVE Blake

" Y ou're a dick, Jensen," I muttered to myself, waiting for his back to disappear into the woods because I planned on following the same trail he came from earlier.

The ranger, or whatever the fuck he was, had been right. I was ill-prepared for a hike in late May at nearly a five-thousand-foot elevation with a sleeping bag from Sears. I wasn't joking with him; I had paid twenty-five bucks for it from the camping section of a nearly bankrupt retailer.

I also had very little food or water. No pot to boil water or cook in either. Firewood? Yeah, right. I'd be in the goddamned forest surrounded by firewood. I went through a mental checklist of my food supply as I assessed the real risks. Six boiled eggs, a Ziplock bag of trail mix, two bags of beef jerky from the gas station, a thermos of coffee that would be cold before morning, and four bottles of water. Oh, and an unrated sleeping bag. Sleeping bags are sleeping bags, right? They're all warm and cozy as long as you're in them? Maybe I was desperate to join Mark in the afterlife.

* * *

Mark's death had hit me harder than a meteor could have. Nothing, and no one, can prepare you for the reality that your person is there one day and gone the next. Even though Mark and I had been in a rocky patch after he'd admitted to cheating on me— again —I'd felt we'd get back together like we had the last three times he'd gone astray.

" Why should he respect you, Blake? " Monica had asked after my reveal that he had cheated again, for the fourth time in less than eighteen months. " You always take him back. Shit! I'd cheat on your ass if I knew you were so spineless. " Monica was my older sister, so there'd be no cheating on me where she was concerned. Monica happened to be the person I ran to every time Mark cheated. She'd heard all the excuses before and was resigned that I'd be welcoming him back to our shared condo in downtown Seattle, three blocks west of the Space Needle, for a fourth time.

But that didn't happen. In fact, that very day, when I'd gotten home after crying on my sister's shoulder for an hour or so at Starbucks, I received the call.

* * *

I concentrated on the trail in front of me, trying to keep the sadness at bay. I wasn't sure what level of grief I was in after the tears dried up as fast as our friends abandoned me. I was too clingy, too sad, too angry—always too something according to them. Focus on the trail. My weekend hikes were my escape and I had embraced the solitude a bit too much. The farther, the deeper, the quieter the hike and the location were, the better. A person could scream in the forest, and as the old saying goes, did other people hear you if there was no one there?

Trees grew in abundance in Washington state. We were named The Evergreen State for a reason, and the western side of the state, the half to the west of the Cascades, the mountain range where I was currently hiking, was greener and wetter than the eastern half. People thought Washington, particularly Seattle, was extremely wet, but that wasn't entirely true. Seattle had plenty of nice weather, and the natural beauty was the result of that supposed rainfall.

The trail became a steep increase of grade, and I began to feel the effects of being away from my at sea level existence in Seattle. My strength was holding up due to the amount of hiking I did, but my breathing was labored as I dug into the slant of earth before me. At the top of the switchback I stopped and dug for a bottle of water, second-guessing my supplies once again. The trees were too numerous for me to gauge where I was as far as elevation. I'd hoped to find a clearing with a view of a neighboring peak before I set up my meager camp, but every step still held no better view.

The gut-wrenching agony hit when I least expected it. I sat on the ground and placed my head between my legs. Breathe, Blake. Nice and easy. Focus on what you can control. I couldn't control shit. I was lost. I was pissed. "I hate you, you cheating fucker!" I screamed. "I fucking hate you!" I added, yelling as loud as I could in case the neighboring county had missed my pain.

That was why I disappeared. Nobody ever heard you if you hiked far enough into the wild.