A car slammed into the truck from behind. Dad looked over at me and shouted, “Hang on, Haley!” I gripped the seat with both hands as he sped up, practically flying around the curves of the two-lane mountain road.
My body jerked forward when the truck took another hit, this time careening off the edge of the road into a deep ditch. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground outside of the truck as it was engulfed in flames. I could see both of my parents trapped in the truck, screaming for me to help them.
Mom? How did she get in there? I tried with everything I had to reach them, but my body was somehow frozen, unable to do anything but watch while they both disappeared behind the flames.
I could feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness. Thoughts and images streaked through my mind, blurring what was real, what was imagined. I thought I felt hands comforting me at some point. At another, someone gently washed my face. Later, or was it earlier, I sensed it was dark, and I could hear several male voices, faint but nearby.
I tried to force myself to snap out of it, to wake up. Whose voice is that? How close are they? Images spun in my head and a wave of confusion washed over me, overpowering me. I was sinking back into darkness.
* * *
I lay in bed with my eyes closed, my eyelids heavy. I felt groggy and disoriented. My body ached and felt wrung out. Maybe I’m getting sick.
Inhaling deeply, I noticed scents that were unfamiliar. Even in my bewildered state, I recognized the smell of sheets that were clean but had laid unused in a drawer. Dirt, campfire, and something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on mixed in the air.
Why does it smell like coffee? Dad hates coffee.
My skin felt grimy, covered in a film of sweat and dirt. I pried my gritty eyes open and tried to make sense of what was going on. I was in an unfamiliar bed and could just make out the room with only a sliver of moonlight streaming through the uncovered window. From what little I could see, I was in a small bedroom with just a dresser, nightstand, and lamp.
There were two doors, and a sliver of light shone from under the one directly in front of me.
The scent of smoke lingered in the air, and my memory flooded with images of the house fire. I broke out in a cold sweat and my hands started shaking. I had no idea where I was and whether my dad had even made it out of the house okay.
Deciding to investigate, I pushed back the covers and quietly moved to the edge of the bed. I placed my right foot on the ground but immediately pulled it back when pain shot up from my ankle. Glancing down, I was surprised to find an ace bandage wrapped around my obviously swollen ankle.
Certain I wouldn’t be able to get to the door without making noise, I moved back to the center of the bed and considered my options. I didn’t appear to be in any imminent danger, but there was really no way of knowing who was in the other room. It looked like I might be able to escape out the window, but I wasn’t sure whether I could do so quietly, especially with my injury.
I groaned inwardly as the aches all over my body became more and more evident. My head was pounding, and my ankle was throbbing. My knees and palms were scraped and sore, and my throat was burning.
I heard a door close and then someone moving around in the kitchen. Knowing that I was unlikely to escape in this state even if I tried, I decided to get back under the covers and feign sleep. Hopefully whoever was out there would continue to leave me alone while they thought I was sleeping.
As I lay there, my throat began to feel even more parched. I fought the urge to cough, but it became too difficult to suppress, and I eventually gave in. And what started out as a quiet cough quickly turned into loud hacking. Great. There went that plan.
A few moments later, I heard footsteps coming toward me and then a soft knock at the door. Too frightened to respond, I pushed my back against the headboard and pulled the covers up to my chin. The knob twisted and the latch was released. My heart was pounding so loud it sounded like a freight train.
The door slowly creaked open, and the room was suddenly filled with light from the hall. I could see only the outline of a very tall man as he cautiously walked into the room. A smooth baritone voice said, “Don’t worry; I’m not going to hurt you.”
The stranger walked to the bedside table and turned on the lamp before stepping back away from the bed. I stared at his dark blue jeans and green plaid socks while I attempted to get my nerves under control. Surely a guy wearing plaid socks can’t be that bad, right?
Unable to stall any longer, I finally lifted my head up, and then up some more, to look him in the eye. It took everything in me not to audibly gasp when I saw all of him for the first time. He was incredibly handsome and so tall. My pulse started racing, and I felt myself getting nervous for an entirely new reason.
He had chestnut brown hair that was short on the sides but longer on top and styled to look just a little messy. Behind stylish glasses with black plastic frames, his dark brown eyes appeared concerned and maybe even a little amused. Probably because I was hiding under the blanket like a three-year-old.
I finally gained the courage to ask him who he was, but before I could get the words out, I started coughing again. He handed me a glass of water that he must have brought in the room with him. I accepted the glass but stared down at it with doubt. I’m guessing the rule against accepting candy from strangers also applies to drinks. What if he’s trying to poison me?
Apparently reading my mind, he chuckled and said, “I promise that it’s just water. Do you want me to take a drink first to prove it’s okay?” I saw a slight smirk on his face and blushed.
The stranger smiled reassuringly and held out a hand as if to take the glass of water before I started coughing again. Struggling to catch my breath, I lifted the glass to my lips. The cool water splashed down my throat refreshing me.
“Thank you.” I had so many questions running through my head, I didn’t even know where to start. As the silence became oppressive, I finally asked, “I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you and how did I get here? Where am I?”
He moved farther away from me and leaned against the wall, making it easier for me to look up at him. “My name is Ethan. But, the rest is a little more difficult. I know you have questions, but for now just know that I want to help you, I promise. Why don’t you take a shower and get cleaned up, and I’ll make breakfast. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
My smoke-scented hair and rumbling stomach couldn’t argue with his suggestion. I felt so dirty; if he told me I had to use the garden hose to get clean I would have, gladly. But my head still needed a few answers. “My dad . . . ” I couldn’t finish my thought, choked up by the possibility that something horrible happened to him.
Ethan’s expression turned serious. “What do you remember about what happened?”
Flashes of the night before raced through my mind. It all seemed like a blur now. “Not much. There was an explosion, and I ran toward my house, looking for my dad. I fell and twisted my ankle but got up and kept running. And that’s all I remember.” I didn’t know if I really wanted to hear the answer or not, but I went ahead and asked, “Do you know what happened to my dad?”
Ethan sighed. “As far as I know, he’s okay. He got away from the house after the explosion, but I don’t know where he is now.”
I sat there in silence, relieved that maybe Dad was okay. But, I still had no idea what to do next. There was no way of knowing whether I could trust this man, regardless of how nice he seemed. Suddenly remembering the cell phone in my satchel, I asked, “Do you have my bag? I need to call him.” My throat was still raw and dry.
Ethan nodded and left the room. A moment later he returned; my bag looked dirty but mostly intact. I dug around until I found the phone and cringed when I saw the cracked screen. That’s not a good sign. When I couldn’t even get the phone to turn on, I gave up. Clearly my cell phone wouldn’t be of any use.
Before I could ask, Ethan pulled a phone from his pocket and handed it to me. “Here, try calling your dad on this. I’ll give you some privacy.” I watched him leave the room and shut the door softly behind him.
My hands shook as I quickly dialed Dad’s cell phone number and waited anxiously for him to answer. My heart sank when I heard, “the number you have dialed is not in service” rather than my dad’s voice. What now?
I nervously clutched the blanket. Hoping I had merely dialed the wrong number, but knowing in my heart that I hadn’t, I dialed again. Holding my breath, I prayed I would reach Dad this time. My heart started pounding when I got the same message again. Guessing a third attempt was futile, I sank into the bed, anxious about what to do.
There was a light knock on the door. I quickly deleted Dad’s phone number from the recent calls log before cautiously responding, “Come in.”
Ethan stuck his head in the door. “Did you reach him?”
Not wanting to give too much away, I just shook my head. “Thanks for letting me borrow your phone.” He walked the rest of the way into the room and took the phone from my outstretched hand. Needing time alone with my thoughts, I said, “I guess I’ll go ahead and take that shower now if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. The bathroom is the first door on the right. I put a fresh towel and clothes on the counter for you. I don’t have any clothes your size, so you’ll have to make do with borrowing mine for now. Do you need any help walking?” he asked, glancing at my ankle.
Heat crept up my neck. There was no way I was going to let Ethan help me get to the bathroom. “Um, no thanks. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, well, let me know if you change your mind. You can join me in the kitchen when you’re finished.” He gave me an encouraging smile before walking out of the room.
I watched until his tall form disappeared down the hall and then stood up. I swayed, feeling unsure on my feet and slightly dizzy, before gingerly stepping over to the window to look outside. The sun was just starting to rise, providing enough light to get a peek at my surroundings. Unfortunately, all I could see was dense forest, no civilization in sight, and really no clues as to my location.
With no obvious solutions to my current predicament, I decided I might as well take it one step at a time. For now, I needed a shower and then food. I limped to the bathroom and tried to ignore the sharp pain every time I put pressure on my injured ankle. Thankfully, the bathroom was just a few steps down the hall.
Once I made it to the bathroom, I shut and locked the door before looking around; it was tiny and outdated but clean. A small window let light into the shower, but it was too small to consider climbing through. The linoleum floor creaked gently underfoot, and a row of fluffy peach towels hung behind me.
Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I gasped. I was fairly certain that I had never looked worse in my life. Fragments of leaves and sticks were intertwined in my long hair. Instead of its usual shine and luster, my hair was dusty and tangled. I had streaks of dirt or soot across my cheek and forehead. My whole body was covered in a layer of sweat and grime.
I realized for the first time that I was wearing a men’s T-shirt but still had on the now filthy shorts I’d been wearing yesterday. As I undressed, I forced myself not to dwell on the fact that Ethan (or someone else) had changed my shirt. I had bigger problems to deal with. And at least I still had my bra on. I noticed that in addition to the bandage on my ankle, my scrapes had been cleaned and a few even bandaged.
I turned on the faucet, releasing the water and starting the shower. The splashing of the water against the tub was calming. Unable to handle the stinging of hot water on my cuts, I set the water to lukewarm and went about scrubbing myself clean. I grinned at the only soap in the shower: apple-scented body wash. Very manly.
I squeezed shampoo onto my hand and its scent filled the bathroom. Luxuriating in the warm water, I gently massaged my scalp. As I attempted to wash the smoke scent out of my hair, it suddenly occurred to me. My home for the last twelve years just went up in smoke. Literally.
Although we didn’t own that much, it was still a blow to realize that everything was gone. I quickly looked down at my right hand and almost cried in relief. At least I still had my mom’s ring. As devastating as losing the house and everything in it was, her ring was the only possession that I genuinely treasured.
Seeing my mom’s ring took me back to the dream that woke me up this morning. When Dad told me the story about the car wreck that killed my mom, it didn’t totally sink in that I was there when it happened. Even though I was only five at the time, I couldn’t help but wonder why I didn’t remember the traumatic accident and subsequent fire.
Soap washed over one of my cuts, stinging me and bringing me back to my current problems. If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in myself, I would have been making dinner when Dad got home yesterday rather than daydreaming in the woods. I would have been there when the fire started, and we never would have gotten separated. What if I never saw him again? I felt a sharp pain in my chest, my anxiety mounting at the thought.
Okay, Haley, you need to focus. Even though you thought he was exaggerating, Dad did warn you that something could happen to him. Considering the timing, there is no way that the explosion at our house was a coincidence. He told you to run and to take care of yourself first. You have to trust him. He knows how to handle himself, which means he’s fine. So stop worrying about him for now and concentrate on yourself.
I thought through my current situation logically, trying to make sense of what happened. I knew that I passed out at the fire and was brought to a secluded cabin in the woods. Ethan, a complete stranger, took me in and cared for my injuries. And, my dad apparently got away from the fire but was chased by unidentified men. It wasn’t a lot to go on, and my mind warred with whether or not I could trust Ethan.
On one hand, he seemed non-threatening and even concerned about my well-being. And he did allow me to use his phone to attempt to call Dad. On the other hand, he could be working with whoever was after Dad and using me for information or as bait.
Whatever the answer, I wasn’t going to find it by staying in the shower all day. I needed to eat something and try to get more information from Ethan. Hopefully I could at least get a better feel for his intentions.