Wyatt was still bringing up the rear, if you didn’t count Trask. When Natalia looked back, the toddler was fast asleep, his head tipped forward to rest on Wyatt’s shoulder. She turned back around, glad Trask was out of her direct line of sight. He reminded her too much of Conner.
She desperately wished she were anyplace but on this trail. Home. At the Dairy Barn. Or back in Wyatt’s Toyota with her feet bare and the windows rolled down, the wind tugging at her hair as the tires hummed underneath them.
Earlier the sky had been bright blue, seemingly limitless. But now the gathering darkness combined with the smoke to create an eerie orange twilight haze. When Natalia licked her lips, she tasted ash.
Her shirt was sticking to her back, and sweat trickled down her spine. She eyed Ryan. He was actually managing to keep a steady pace. If he was in shock, it must be mild.
Ahead of Ryan, Darryl slipped a granola bar from his pocket into Zion’s palm. He bent down to whisper in his ear. He was still wearing sunglasses, even though the sun was starting to set behind them. As furtively as a kid could, Zion unwrapped the bar and began to sneak bits into his mouth.
“I’m so glad you were there to remind me what to do,” Wyatt said. “I mean, I know some first aid because of Scouts, but it feels like you know a lot more.”
“I take classes at the Red Cross.” The idea had originally been Dr. Paris’s, a way to help Natalia feel more in control. She retook them every summer to keep her certification current. “I want to be a doctor.” Doctors saved lives. That wouldn’t make up for her failure. Nothing would. But the idea allowed her to keep living. After pushing a branch away from her face, she continued to hold it for Wyatt.
When he placed his hand on the branch, his fingers brushed hers. “Plus you have a much better first aid kit than I do. Like you had shears and all those little packets of medications. Mine’s pretty basic.”
Natalia had been thinking about her kit. “I don’t know how much help it will be if something else goes wrong. On the front it says it has more than a hundred pieces, but there’s a lot of filler. It’s got five or six knuckle bandages, for example, and how often do you really need even one? And that was my only pair of gloves.”
“In some ways, I don’t think it really matters what’s in your kit. What matters more is what you do with it. And I think most girls would have just been freaking out.”
Natalia felt a flush of pride—and also the need to set him straight. “That’s not just a girl thing. It looked to me like most people were freaked out when they saw those burns.”
“Fair point.”
“Sorry I froze at the beginning.” She sidestepped a gnarled root. “But I’ve had some personal experience with burns.” The words slipped past her lips before she had time to think.
Wyatt weighed this information, then asked, “Is that why you’re afraid of fire?”
“Yeah.” Why had she brought it up? It was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. “But I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I don’t want to think about or talk about it right now. I just want to get out of here. I wish we could fly instead of walking.” After taking a particularly long step to avoid a divot in the trail, she changed the subject. “Why do you care so much about keeping us together? Jason’s a jerk. Who cares if he went off by himself?”
“If we stick together, then we’re stronger. Everyone has something different to contribute. That’s why I like scouting. I like being part of a group.”
As if to underscore the point, ahead of them AJ offered his hand to Susan as she clambered over a rocky part of the trail.
“You’re not just part of this group,” Natalia pointed out. “You’re pretty much leading it. Even the adults are listening to you.”
“Somebody had to take charge. When you put a group under stress, it either pulls together or falls apart. I’m trying to make sure we pull together.”
Her nose was running, partly from smoke and partly from exertion. She took a tissue from her pants pocket.
“Since we could be stuck out here for a while,” Wyatt said, “you might want to use your sleeve for your nose and save that for later.”
“But why—” Natalia figured it out and shut up. She was definitely not going to pee—or, worse yet, poop—in the woods. Still, she followed his suggestion, even though it felt gross to smear her nose on her sleeve. After she did, she sniffed. “It doesn’t smell quite as smoky now.”
“I think your nose just gets used to it. It’s like when you’re in a freshly painted room and after a while you stop smelling it. Humans—all animals, really—are hardwired to notice contrasts, not constants.”
“Like how they say not to run if you meet a cougar, because it will want to chase you?” She had tried to prepare for this hike by reading a bunch of worst-case scenarios.
“Yeah. It’s why animals like rabbits are so good at staying still. Because staying still is sometimes the best thing to do.”
While Wyatt was talking, Susan let AJ go on ahead. She stood and waited for them with an anxious expression.
“How are you doing, Susan?” Wyatt asked. “Are you holding up okay?”
“I know I should remember, honey, but where are we going again?” She bit her lip.
“Sky Bridge,” he answered.
The older woman snapped her fingers. “Right. That’s where I was going. I love that bridge.” She looked from Wyatt to Natalia. “Are either of you wearing a hand clock?”
They exchanged a puzzled look, before understanding dawned. Susan must mean a watch. Her phrasing made her sound like someone who spoke English as a second language, only she didn’t have an accent.
Natalia slipped the corner of her phone out of her pocket. “Eight thirty-nine.”
The older woman nodded. “So sunset’s not far away.”
“Yeah, it will be after sunset by the time we get to the bridge.” Wyatt pressed his lips together. “Maybe that’s actually better.” He and Susan exchanged a look.
“Why would that be better?” Natalia asked.
“The slot canyon it goes over is pretty deep,” Wyatt said. “That’s why it’s called Sky Bridge.”
Great. Natalia didn’t like heights. Or enclosed spaces. Or swimming if she couldn’t touch the bottom and keep her head out of water.
Or, of course, fire.
“Why is it called a slot canyon?” she asked, trying to distract herself as they all kept moving closer to it.
“It’s what happens when you pit water against rock. First there’s just a tiny crack with water flowing through it. But over thousands of years that stream of water carves a narrow canyon that just gets deeper and deeper.”
“Huh,” she said, trying to act as if the thought weren’t completely terrifying.
Thirty minutes later, they rounded a bend and there it was. Sky Bridge. Even though the sun had slipped below the horizon, it was still light enough to see it. Made of wood, it was just wide enough for one person. The drop to the water far below had to be at least seventy-five feet.
But that wasn’t why the group was starting to freak out.
And it wasn’t from the sight of Jason, still on the same side of the slot canyon as them.