Holden

HOLDEN

In the dark room at the top of the Fort, 's fingers grazed the paper edge of the lampshade. He felt around for the chain and yanked. Dull light flooded the A-frame attic, the floor's faded planks. Francis lay on top of the bunched yellow quilt at the bottom of 's bed. The German shepherd raised one sleepy eyelid to give a look .

He exhaled, the residue of despair pervading his chest. Tonight's fleeting dream had featured his ex, Becca, and an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. They had lain facing each other, her eyes tired and bloodshot, face warm and damp against his palm.

And that was it. The entire dream. So why did apocalyptic dread linger in his gut?

A short whine escaped Francis, who shimmied up toward to lick the sweat from his face. wrapped his arms around the dog and buried his face in soft, stinky fur.

"You need a bath," he muttered.

Francis wriggled out of his grip and gently bit him on the nose, as if to say fuck off .

He scratched Francis's ears while compulsively prodding the memory of the dream like a toothache. He didn't use to believe dreams held meaning, not until he was compelled like some New Age freak to drive from Oregon to Deadswitch because he couldn't stop dreaming of Dr. Siena Dupont.

This dream shook him just as deeply. He would not drive back to Oregon for Becca, but he could at least check in on her before joining search and rescue efforts later this morning.

Two days ago, had seen a flash of Dr. Dupont's face in the noise-filled feed when Zaid sent his drone to investigate the cabin on Mount Agnes. No one else in the room—not Zaid, Angel, Maidei, or Frank—could corroborate. He was Siena's only witness. She needed him, and even though they'd never met and she didn't know who he was, not continuing the search for her himself felt like betrayal. He'd been trying to find her for months, after all, ever since he stumbled upon her dire audio recording from the future.

Cam ran off yesterday without saying goodbye. Emmett's off looking for her... never came back last night. Which means I have to bury Isaac all by myself.

So he would keep looking, even if he didn't know the first thing about organized search and rescue.

Worry kept him up, and he tossed and turned until dawn broke. He got out of bed, showered, and told Francis goodbye before sneaking down to the first floor of the Fort. He grabbed his backpack near the door and slipped outside to where Frank waited for him in the Jeep.

Crowded around the map-covered desk in the ranger station, two new search and rescue teams listened to Frank's summary of the mission.

"I got word the research team was in trouble. We tried radioing two rangers, one at Triplet Lakes and one south of Mount Charlotte. Couldn't contact either ranger, and that's when we sent in the first search team. They found nothing. No rangers at their posts, and no researchers at their cabin. That's our current status."

would join them in a couple of hours but didn't need to be briefed. What he needed was some damn privacy.

He inconspicuously stole the rotary phone from the desk, yanked on the line for slack, and took the phone in its entirety into the station's tiny bathroom, shutting himself off from the noise. He sat on the toilet and called Becca, predictably getting her voicemail. She didn't recognize this number.

"It's . If you get this in the next hour, call me back at this number. Just... want to talk."

He hung up the receiver and stared down at boots that weren't his. They weren't Zaid's, either, but a SAR member's. Even if Zaid had the same shoe size as , the researcher could only find three mismatched boots, all from fifteen years ago, one missing shoelaces, another a sole.

The phone rang. jumped and fumbled with the receiver before pressing it to his ear.

"Deadswitch Ranger Station," he said.

"?"

It was Becca. He hadn't expected her to call him back.

"Hey. Sorry. Umm..." He struggled to find the right words. "Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly.

This was a mistake. "I just wanted to check... It's nothing. I'm being stupid. Sorry I bothered you. I shouldn't hold up the line here?—"

"No, wait. , are you okay? Where are you? Did you say Deadswitch Ranger Station?"

He sighed. "I'm in California. Long story."

"You moved to California?"

"What? No. I'm here for a couple more weeks... I think."

"But you moved out of your apartment."

frowned at the dingy bathroom sink. "No I didn't. "

"I stopped by your place a couple of days ago. I didn't like the way we left things when I came to get my stuff. I was just hoping we could talk, but the door was open and they were replacing the carpet. The place was empty. Looked like they were moving someone else in."

"I didn't move out. I haven't moved out. You were probably looking in the wrong apartment."

"I wasn't."

"23C?"

", I lived there for years."

He opened his mouth to retort, but couldn't conjure up any reason she'd be wrong, unless she was flat out lying to him. But that wasn't like Becca, and she had no reason to do such a thing.

"." She spoke his name slowly. "Are you sure you're not in trouble?"

I am now . "I'm... fine. I need to go. I'll call you later."

She called his name again right before he jammed his thumb against the hookswitch. He called Lauren, his roommate in Corvallis, nearly ripping the dial off the rotary phone.

" We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service... "

Just like the last time he tried calling her.

slammed the receiver back down, thankful he was in a bathroom because his stomach clenched as if he would throw up.

He needed to call the apartment manager, but he'd only emailed her in the past, and her number wasn't in his phone. Connecting to the internet was his only hope of figuring out what the hell was going on. Zaid had gotten the satellite internet up and running at the Fort yesterday, but the signal was so bad that had yet to connect.

A deep breath settled his stomach. Lauren didn't seem the type to pull off a con to steal his belongings, and if she was, the joke was on her because he owned nothing of value.

Someone knocked on the door. "You alright in there? Getting cold feet?" Frank asked .

"I'll be out in a second."

stood, set the phone on the toilet seat, and leaned over the sink. In the mirror, his dark hair hung over his face. He reached up and parted it like a curtain, cautiously peeking through as though to shield himself from his own image. The California sun had darkened his naturally tan skin, yet something about his appearance seemed pallid. Exhausted. Maybe it was the scraggly facial hair. He hadn't shaved since he and Angel left Oregon.

Or maybe it was fear.

He should be getting cold feet. Heading into a forest infamous for disappearing people would scare the daylights out of the most equipped wilderness junkie, let alone him. And now he had a reason to stay behind: drive toward town until he got cell service, and figure out why Lauren had emptied his apartment without his consent.

At least he'd taken Francis with him.

So what would it be? The missing researchers, or his stuff?

Finding Siena, or Lauren?

He already knew his decision. He also knew it was the less logical one.

The station was still crowded from the briefing when left the bathroom, so he snuck the rotary phone back onto the desk, grabbed his backpack, and headed out to his car, which had been parked at the back of the station lot since he and Angel arrived in Deadswitch weeks ago.

held his bag open on the hood, squashing it full of equipment as he mentally calculated the right amount of underwear to take. The bag itself was from Zaid and about twenty years old, sturdy but frayed around the edges. He'd also borrowed a mess kit from Frank that was little more than a tin cup and a fork. Other SAR members had donated a sleeping bag and other bits and bobs to him, likely out of pity more than anything.

Francis's collar jangled, and the dog pressed his wet nose to the back of 's calf .

"Hey, how did you get here?" He glanced up. Angel walked toward him with a frown, a leash folded in her hands.

dropped his gaze. He'd left early this morning to avoid this very confrontation. Partner in crime from the beginning, Angel had convinced him to drive down to Deadswitch Wilderness in the first place. She was as dedicated to the mystery of Dr. Dupont as he was, but drew a line when it came to actually entering the wilderness area where almost a dozen people had disappeared.

He cleared his throat. "Thanks for taking care of Francis. Don't worry about walking him, not unless Maidei or Zaid or someone goes with you. Though I don't think either of them like hiking around here anymore. Anyway, you should also take my room. It's a lot nicer than yours, and the bed is?—"

"Don't do this."

pressed his lips together. It was one thing for her to ask this of him. It was another for her to ask every waking hour for the past two days.

yanked the zipper of his bag shut and wiped the beading sweat from his forehead. It wasn't even nine, and the day was already hot. Sunscreen. Someone had to have an extra bottle.

"You have my car keys, right?" he asked. "In case you need them?"

"Stop trying to change the subject. You're being so..."

threw his pack over his shoulder, his patience tenuous. "What, stupid?"

Angel's expression morphed from anger to injury. Her curly hair was frizzier, and dark bags cradled her big brown eyes. She must have slept as well as he had.

She fiddled with the leash. "I was going to say selfish."

He stepped back, as if putting more space between him and Angel would also give room for her logic to make sense. "Risking my safety to go search for someone I don't even know is the opposite of selfish."

"Depends on why you're doing it," Angel shot back .

"Because I'm the only one who?—"

"Saw her ghost in the static, yes," she finished for him. They had a version of this conversation yesterday. And the day before. "That won't matter if you get lost or hurt. I'm not sure why you seeing her matters, anyway. It doesn't mean you have some special power to make her appear at will." Her words carried a condescending lilt, the way she used to talk to him back on campus, before they tolerated each other.

"Look," he began. "You really should go back to Corvallis. I'm sure Maidei can watch Francis. Take my car and?—"

She scoffed. "And what? Live in it? You're so caught up in this that you don't even remember I have nowhere to go."

He winced. Days ago, he and Angel sat on his bed in the Fort's attic, Angel confiding in him about the outcome of her messy divorce. Her husband had left her with nothing. still didn't really understand how that was possible, or what could have made Angel's ex so vindictive. Now definitely wasn't the time to ask.

"Then stay here," he said. His back was already aching from the weight of his bag. "I shouldn't be gone over two weeks. We'll try to get to Agnes in four nights and then search the off-trail area north of the mountain."

She crossed her arms and glanced at Francis, who sat by her feet.

"You won't be alone," he added.

Angel's jaw clenched. She swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "You really don't value yourself at all, do you?"

Anger flared in his chest. She knew nothing about him. "Until a month ago, you didn't miss an opportunity to tell me how pathetic I am. You clearly don't value me either, so why does it matter what I do?"

She winced. "Is it really that hard to believe the past couple of weeks changed things, and I actually care what happens to you now? "

Yes . Why would she care? He'd done nothing to deserve her caring. They'd simply existed in the same space. It wasn't enough.

When she looked at him again, her eyes were glassy and puppy-wide. She straightened as though steeling herself, like he'd slapped her across the face and she was taking the high road.

could do that, too. "Thank you for taking care of Francis. I'm coming back, just like the SAR teams before us. Two are on their way back now, and two more teams are entering from the west, by the lower lakes?—"

"Frank told me," Angel interrupted. She whistled to Francis. "Come on, boy. Let's go annoy Zaid."

Francis looked up at , his tongue sticking out. scratched the back of his ears. He'd considered taking Francis, but if something happened to him, would never forgive himself.

Maybe joining Search and Rescue was a stupid and dangerous decision. And maybe he valued his dog's life over his own. It was still his choice.

"I'll miss you," he told Francis. "Now, go on. Be good."

Francis took off after Angel, who turned her back on without saying goodbye.

He needed to prove her wrong by coming back in one piece.

adjusted his bag and joined the rest of the SAR team as they circled up near the ranger station. He double-checked that his water bottle was still clipped to the side of his pack and touched the sunglasses hanging from the neck of his shirt. The older man who had loaned him the boots—Clyde—nodded as he approached and tossed a bottle of sunblock, which caught clumsily.

"Thanks. And thanks again for the boots."

"Don't thank me." Clyde pointed to the woman next to him. "She won't let me go anywhere without backups of my backups. I swear, she's the only reason I'm alive."

The woman smacked his arm. She wore tight jeans and a white blouse, a designer bag thrown over her shoulder. She rubbed at the smudged mascara beneath one of her red-rimmed eyes.

Teresa and Clyde Yarrow—Dr. Cameron Yarrow's parents. They lived a few hours away and had driven up the mountain as soon as Frank relayed the news about their daughter's disappearance. Country folk, but affluent, Clyde their hometown's only pediatrician. Teresa looked like she drank her chardonnay on ice and had a rustic sign in her kitchen that said, The best things in life aren't things . She was not joining the search.

Clyde's gear was old, but designer. The kind of man who prided himself on not being wasteful, but also didn't realize how lucky he was.

They were nice enough and clearly cared about Dr. Yarrow. Both of them were easily in their midsixties. Hopefully Clyde was in shape enough for this venture. Then again, here was in borrowed gear, completely out of his element and about to mosey into a forest that had swallowed at least nine people whole.

"Deadswitch Wilderness isn't easy. You ready for this?" Clyde asked, like he was reading 's mind.

smiled nervously. "Hell no."

Clyde's somber expression lightened. "Same."