Page 98 of The Wilderwomen

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Zadie peered over the edge, and there in the backwater-soaked mud was an imprint. Not of a shoe, but of a human foot with five distinct toes.

“The rain hasn’t washed it away yet,” Myron observed as droplets fell from the brim of his hood. “It must have been made pretty recently.”

“So we’re going the right way, then?” Zadie silently admonished herself for the hope that crept into her voice.

“It’s a good sign, at least.” Myron didn’t offer any more reassurance, and Zadie didn’t ask for it.

But why was there only one set of footprints? Had Finn fallen in the water? Had she been carried away by the swift current only to end up as just another log in the dam downstream? Zadie left the two men behind and hurried along the bank, squinting through the curtain of rain at every human-size log, root, and rock. Then something ahead of her caused her to stop abruptly.

Someone appeared to have climbed up the creek bank. There were skid marks in the mud and clods of torn grass that had probably been used as handholds. If Finnhadfallen in the creek, at least she’d made it out alive.

Thunder echoed through the valley like it was the inside of a drum. “Storm’s here,” Myron said as he caught up with her. Zadie’s eyes flitted to the gathering clouds above. Behind one of them was a ghost sun wrapped in gauze. “We better get moving,” he said, taking the lead once more.

Zadie could hear the downpour coming before she felt it. She pulled her hood up just in time to deflect the worst of the cloudburst, but the percussion on the fabric was deafening. Myron was moving his lips. She had to pull the hood back from her ears to hear him. “I said we should find shelter. Wait this out,” he shouted over the rain.

“You want to stop? What about Finn?” Zadie shouted back, tasting rainwater on her lips.

“She probably stopped, too. See that tree?” Myron pointed toward a Douglas fir with great boughs that sagged under the weight of their own needles. The earth beneath the tree appeared mostly dry. “You guys take cover. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I want to check that rocky overhang. Make sure Finn didn’t hide out there.”

Zadie was about to protest again when she imagined a tiny flicker in her abdomen. She couldn’t risk getting hypothermia with the little Star inside her.

She and Joel settled themselves on the bed of needles and leaned their backs against the trunk of the fir. Joel’s beard was dewy and wet strands of hair clung to his forehead. “Aren’t you not supposed to sit under a tree in a thunderstorm?” he said.

“There’s nowhere thatisn’tunder a tree.”

“I guess so.” Joel gave Zadie a sidelong glance. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking that I’m cold, and ifI’mcold, Finn’s probably freezing right now.”

“Maybe she brought a jacket.”

“Maybe.”

They watched a curtain of water cascade off the outermost boughs, creating their own little Cone of Silence.

“You know you can trust me, right?” Joel said, finally. Zadie didn’t say yes, afraid of what would come next.

“If something’s going on with Finn, I want to help.”

“She’s lost, and youarehelping.” She could feel Joel’s scrupulous gaze on her like a magnifying glass.

“Then why for the last two days has she looked like she’s just seen a ghost?”

The word “ghost” made Zadie shiver. She supposed Finn was haunted in a way, hearing and seeing things that weren’t really there. Since they’d arrived at the Van Houtens’, it had seemed like her sister was dragging all of those memories behind her like a sled. “I think she’s overwhelmed,” Zadie said. “That house has a lot of memories in it.”

Joel nodded, indulging her half-truth. “Must be tough having all those thoughts in your head at once.”

“Yeah…” There was more she could have said, more she wanted to say about her sister, her mom, herself; but Zadie had spent most of her life biting the heads off her fears before they had a chance to speak. She thought of it as self-sufficiency when it was really silent suffering. She had cried in front of Joel many times, but once her tears were dry, she would pretend as if nothing had happened. She was like a stray cat who cries at the back door for food, then once it has had its fill, slinks off as if it never asked for it in the first place. Joel had left his door wide open, and even now she couldn’t bring herself to walk inside. “I hope the rain lets up soon.”

“Me too” was all Joel said in response, his door clicking shut.

Myron appeared a moment later, flush-faced and breathing heavily. “Did you find anything?” Zadie asked him, grateful to have someone to break the awkward silence.

“Sorry. No luck.” He pushed his hood back and sat knees-to-chest to catch his breath. “I’m gonna be straight with you… we’ve been out here for over two hours now. This might be too big a job for the three of us. We might want to start thinking about getting the sheriff involved.”


Tags: Ruth Emmie Lang Fantasy