Jeff Hirsch - The Darkest Path

Nat stirred, drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging them close. She started to cry, her chest convulsing. I moved toward her but she shied away, hiding her face.

Gravel tumbled down the side of the hill we were on. I looked up to see Bear nearly at the top. Maybe if I got up higher, I could get some idea of where we were.

“I’ll be right back,” I said. Nat didn’t move.

I dug my fingers into the trunk of a tree and pulled myself up. Once I made it to my feet, my body wavered like smoke in a breeze, so I held on and waited for it to pass. I moved from tree to tree, grasping branches to hold myself steady. Every injury, old and new, gnawed at me as I climbed. Eventually the shock of the pain faded, leaving just an endless and dark exhaustion. It was as if there was a hole in the center of me and I was slowly draining away. My head reeled, and bursts of lights seemed to dance with shadows in my field of vision.

Whenever I felt like I had nothing left, I looked back at Nat. She grew smaller behind me, a single body nearly lost amid the rock and elms. If I didn’t find us a way out, we were done. The peak of the hill drew closer by inches. Bear sat at the top, his dark body outlined in the gray sky.

At the top of the hill was a rocky platform studded with scrub pines that held a commanding view of the land below. I slid down the side of a tree and sat beside Bear.

Below, for as far as I could see, was an unbroken expanse of trees, rising and falling as they climbed hills and fell into valleys, like a mossy blanket laid over the earth. I turned in every direction and that’s all there was, wilderness stretching out to the horizon. I imagined we could have sat where we were a million years in the past and seen the exact same view. I searched for the sun to try to at least find our bearing but the sky was still too overcast.

Even if we mustered the will to walk a hundred miles, we might discover we were going in the wrong direction the entire time. Instead of finding civilization, we would only end up deeper and deeper in the gradually darkening woods, more and more alone.

I thought of Nat lying below and told my legs to move, to walk anywhere, in any direction, but the commands grew cold somewhere along the way. I fell back into the dirt and watched as night enclosed us.

I was lying in the dirt, barely conscious, when I heard the footsteps.

I tried to open my eyes, tried to move, but it was as if I had been lashed to the forest floor, half in and half out of a dream. Bear growled low beside me.

A hand grasped my shoulder. “Hey. You okay?”

It was a man’s voice. I opened my eyes, but my vision swirled and it was like I was seeing him from very far away. All I could make out was brown hair shining in a flashlight’s beam. Wind blew in the trees around us and a sleepy warmth moved through me.

“James?” I said, my voice a woozy drawl.

Another voice came up the hill. “Someone else down here.”

Thunder shook the earth somewhere far away. “There’s a storm,” I said. “We have to go in now. We have to…”

There was a blast of radio static and then another voice. “Pick them up. We’ll take them with us.”

It was another man’s voice, deep and strong from somewhere nearby. I opened my eyes and saw a tall man with dark skin.

“Grey?”

I struggled weakly as hands dug beneath me and lifted me up. Bear barked, but the sound of it was distant and dreamlike. My consciousness slipped away as they bore me off. I swayed in their hands, drifting back and forth as though I was on the deck of some great sailing ship.

I woke with a gasp, feeling like I had been buried alive.

I thrashed and twisted, until a great weight fell off my chest and I could breathe again.

When my eyes adjusted to the dark, I was able to make out the dim contours of a room. It was large and nearly empty. Across from me, there was the outline of a closed door, its gaps letting in enough light to fill the room with gray and black shadows. Next to the door was a large cabinet. I saw no other doors or windows.

My muscles ached as I sat up, finding myself in the center of an enormous bed. The weight I felt on my chest was a blanket with down filling, heavy as lead. My clothes were gone and had been replaced with nothing but a pair of soft boxers.

“Bear?” I called. “Nat?”

My body protested as I slid off the bed. The soles of my feet hit the ground and I almost drew them back in shock when they sunk into a thick pile of soft carpeting. Where was I?

I stood up and limped across the room to the door. I grabbed the handle and turned. Locked. In the half-light, I could make out a small table and lamp sitting beside the bed. I made my way back and fumbled underneath the shade until I found the switch and clicked it on. The light stabbed at my eyes, but when they adjusted, I found a tall glass of water, beaded with sweat, beside the lamp. Icy rivulets coursed down my cheeks as I drank. I set the empty glass down, panting.

The bed was nearly seven feet long, covered in a thick gold-and-tan blanket with sheets the color of cream beneath. I searched the drawer on the nightstand and the ones in the dresser, but they all came up empty.

The lamplight revealed a second door on the other side of the room. It led into a bathroom filled with glittering chrome fixtures. I stood in front of the mirror that sat above the white sink. The blood and sweat-caked dirt had been washed off of me, replaced with a faint scent of lavender. Adhesive bandages closed my wounds. Even my cast had been scrubbed clean of dirt and blood. Why would someone go to all the trouble to wash and heal me only to lock me up?

I scrambled for options, but anything I came up with seemed ludicrous. Bust down the door and escape? Even at my best, it was unlikely. Make a racket until my captors finally had to come for me? Maybe, but what then? Attack them and make a run for it, hoping I found Bear and Nat along the way? Ridiculous. I was wracked with cuts and bruises and my muscles screamed at nearly every move I made. There would be no daring escape. All I could do was wait.

I looked down at the floor’s marble tile. Of course that didn’t have to mean I was helpless.

I brought the water glass to the bathroom and wrapped it in a thick towel that hung by the shower. I set the bundle on the tile floor and stomped on it so that the glass shattered with a muffled crunch. A mix of shards remained. I picked through them, taking the largest and sharpest piece I could find. The rest went into the empty cabinet under the sink. The towel went neatly on the rack.

I returned to the bed, tucking the glass shard underneath the mattress where I could get at it quickly. Once it was set, I cut the light and drew the heavy blanket over me. Exhausted as I was, sleep didn’t come easy. I was plagued with thoughts of Bear and Nat. Were they somewhere nearby, alone and afraid?

I saw Nat’s father’s face pressed against the window of the helicopter just before the flash that took them down. What must Nat be going through right now? I hated that there was nothing I could do but wait.

I draped my hand over the side of the bed so my fingers rested by the edge of the shattered glass.

Wait and be ready.

I woke again to the sound of automatic-weapons fire.

It was coming from somewhere inside the building. A jet streaked overhead and then another, the roar of their engines followed by the dragonfly hum of helicopter rotors. I slipped the glass shard out from under the mattress and rolled out of bed. Maybe I could use the dresser to break down the door and then—

The door to the room was open.

“RPG!”