Brett Battles - No Return

Around this there were other rocks, thousands of them. Some piled on top of one another, creating little alcoves where those looking for a little one-on-one time could find some privacy. Others jutted outward, creating unseen drop-offs of ten or twenty or even thirty feet. More than one drunken teenager had taken a wrong step and found themselves with a broken leg or dislocated shoulder. But no matter what happened up there, no one ever gave away its location. It was a sanctuary that remained known only to those who needed the freedom it represented.

While Wes and Lars were more experienced with the Rocks than Mandy, it wasn’t by much. On their first visit they’d left after only an hour when they got bored waiting for anyone they knew to show up. Their second trip up had actually been during the day, when no one else was around. They’d wanted to see what it looked like in the sunlight, but had been disappointed by all the garbage and graffiti created by decades of drunken teenagers. They’d ended up enjoying the hike they’d taken in the area around the Rocks more, finding a couple of abandoned mines cut into the side of the hills and a few rusted soup cans that must have been over fifty years old. They had kept the cans, but had avoided going into the mines because often not very far inside there were deep holes dug straight down through the floor that were hard to see before you were already stepping into them.

This party was their third trip.

But since Mandy was a Rocks virgin, everything was new and exciting to her. She found out about the party from her older sister, who offered to act as guide, but had gotten sick the day before and couldn’t go. Mandy had then begged Wes and Lars to come with her instead.

Music wafted down the path-R.E.M., Springsteen, Nirvana-growing louder and louder the closer they got. They passed a group of stoners who were laughing at some unknown joke and sharing a joint, and three guys Wes recognized from history class, drinking beer and throwing rocks at the stars.

“Slow down a little,” Lars said. He’d fallen behind, already winded.

“Come on, Pudge,” Wes said, channeling his father. “Pick it up.”

“Don’t call me that!”

A few moments later a voice off to the side said, “What are you looking at?”

Wes turned and saw two people tucked into a nook. It was too dark there to see their faces, but he could tell one was a girl, her shirt opened to her waist.

“Nothing,” Lars said quickly.

“Pervert,” she sneered, then turned back to her friend.

Lars double-timed it up to Wes and Anna. “Well, this should be fun.”

The path narrowed, forcing them to shuffle through single file. Then the miniature canyon opened onto the clearing. At the far end, flames shot upward against the backdrop of the tear-shaped boulder. Surrounding the bonfire on the remaining three sides had to be over a hundred teenagers-drinking and laughing and talking, and some even dancing to the blaring music.

“There’s more people here than I thought there’d be,” Mandy said.

“Definitely bigger than the last party we were at,” Lars said.

They stood where they were for a moment, suddenly intimidated.

“Come on,” Wes finally said, taking a step forward.

As they neared the fire a voice called out, “Wes Stewart?”

A tall, thin teenager pulled himself out of the crowd at the flames. In his hand was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

“Hey, Dodson,” Wes said.

Slightly unstable, Gary Dodson negotiated his way over to them. “Never thought I’d see you at one of these.”

“It’s not my first time,” Wes said defensively.

Gary thrust the bottle of Jack forward. “Drink?”

“No, thanks.”

Gary offered it to Lars and Mandy; both declined.

“Ain’t no fun if you’re going to stand around sober all night,” he said.

Lars held up the six-pack of beer. “Not planning on it.”

Gary laughed. “Splitting that between the three of you, you won’t even get buzzed.” He stumbled off, chuckling to himself.

They soon found themselves standing near the fire, each holding a beer. Occasionally a partygoer would fall down, but since it was relatively early, most were still sober enough to get back up again.

Two beers and a few boring hours later, Wes walked out into the desert to relieve himself. As he was heading back to the fire, Carly Jones, a girl from his journalism class, cornered him. “Have a joint?”

“Uh … no,” Wes said. “Sorry.”

“No problem. I have one.” She pulled a half-smoked roach out of her pocket and held it near her mouth. “Please tell me you have a light at least.”

Wes shrugged apologetically. “I don’t.”

“Damn.” She took a step closer, crossing into his personal space. “How are you going to make it up to me?”

He countered with a step back. “See if someone has a lighter?”

She reached out and touched him on the chest, her finger slipping through the gap between buttons and touching his skin. “That’s not what I was hoping for.” Carly had never been shy about making her interest in him clear. It was a one-way infatuation.

Wes half moved, half slapped her hand away. “Let me get that match.” He flashed a smile and dodged past her.

Back at the fire, he found Lars in nearly the same spot where he left him, and immediately said, “I think I see a shooting star.”

Lars shot a look at the sky. “Where?”

“No, moron. I think I see a shooting star ,” Wes repeated their exit code phrase.

“Oh, right .” Lars nodded. “Thank God. I’ve been ready to leave for thirty minutes.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

“I thought you were having fun.”

Wes rolled his eyes. “Where’s Mandy?”

“I … uh … thought she was right here.”

“That’s just great.”

They couldn’t leave without her, so Wes began asking people if they knew where she was, but got nothing better than shrugs in response. Finally a girl named Cheri Knight pointed into the darkness to the east. “Think I saw her go that way. Probably taking a pee.”

They found a spot against one of the rocks and waited. But when Mandy didn’t show up after several minutes, Wes got restless. “I’ll go check and see if she’s really out there. You stay here in case I miss her.”

Wes turned down the path and began calling out her name. But the only thing he heard in response was the music and the rumble of the party behind him.

He kept walking. “Mandy?”

Still nothing.

He figured she couldn’t have gone much farther than he already was, so he was beginning to think Cheri had been wrong.

Somewhere ahead he heard a noise. It had been brief, so he wasn’t sure if it had been a voice or just the breeze through the bushes.

He hesitated a moment, and was about to turn back to the party when he heard it again. Only longer this time. A cry. At least he thought it was a cry.

Wes began to run toward it. Ahead, there was a small ridge lined with boulders along the crest. As he neared the top he heard another sound. Different this time. Definitely a voice, but deeper than the first.

Then the original voice screamed.

Wes raced to the top, pulling himself quickly over the rocks to see what was happening. But the deep darkness of the desert hid more than it revealed.

A grunt, and a muffled cry, both from somewhere below and to the left.

Wes looked around, trying to find a way down the hill. He spotted a narrow trail about ten feet to his left and leapt toward it. Going faster than he knew he should, he all but stumbled down the hill. As he neared the bottom he threw his hands out toward a boulder to slow his progress, and barely avoided tumbling to the ground.