11. Lacking Patience
Petal
The fire flickered and sputtered as she put another log on it. Lex had left her with quite a supply, but since she didn’t know how long he was going to be, she was forced to use it slowly, rationing out the pieces one by one. After the initial fire he’d built had died away, warming the cave to the point she had discarded the blanket, Petal had fed each branch to it and waited. Only when the previous one had become nothing but embers did she put the next one on.
Even at this rate, she was going to go through the logs in a few hours.
Staring into the flames as they crept up the fresh wood, Petal considered everything that had happened to her since she’d come out to Surrey. What had started out as a simple business trip to oversee the recovery efforts of the local team had transformed into something else completely. A life-changing experience at a minimum, that was for certain. While she no longer feared dying, spurred on by Lex’s seemingly unshakeable confidence in their surviving the ordeal, that didn’t mean she was no longer afraid.
Quite the opposite had happened since he’d left to go get help. She’d started out just fine, sitting in the cave, watching the fire like she was doing now, and simply waiting for him to return. It could take hours, or more, for him to reach any semblance of civilization that could help. With the snow and lack of roads, he would have to find another form of transportation to get back to her.
Maybe he’d be able to rustle up a helicopter, and she could be hoisted into it as it hovered above her, just like in the movies. That would be pretty cool, and would make an awesome story to tell when she got back. Maybe the office would be able to take her more seriously if she could show them that their boss was a real person, not just some emotionless robot.
Petal blinked in surprise at her own thoughts. That was the first time she could recall ever caring what the other employees thought about her. She’d always been concerned with doing an excellent job first, and anything after that was unimportant. So why was she thinking in different terms now? The answer came to her swiftly and easily.
Lex.
He was responsible for her changed thinking. By proving to her that despite being a line worker he could hold a conversation and have an actual personality that she could laugh with, and get along with, he’d done something to her.
Despite being all alone Petal felt herself flush with embarrassment at the realization that he’d broken through some well-established stereotypes. In her mind, Petal had always been “above” anyone who was lower on the corporate hierarchy than she was. By simple fact of having a loftier title, she was obviously better than her subordinates. Including the lowest of the low, the actual line workers themselves.
But Lex had changed all that by showing her that sometimes people chose to be in certain positions, because they liked them. Because they had different interests than she did. Not everyone was concerned with rising to the top, with being the boss. Like Lex, they perhaps enjoyed being outside, or working with their hands, or simply weren’t interested in the added responsibility that came the further up one moved on the imaginary ladder of a company’s employees.
Now she was forced to wonder if perhaps her assistant Mackenna did the job not because it was the only job she could get, but for other reasons. Maybe she enjoyed organizing things, and took comfort in the fact that she essentially got to organize Petal’s life the way she wanted.
“Holy shit.”
She’d never realized that, in essence, Petal danced to Mackenna’s tune. Sure, she was the one who got to make the decisions about things, and if needed she could and would overrule her assistant. But on a day-to-day basis, Mackenna told her what was on tap, where she had to go, and other important details that she picked out.
Suddenly Petal felt far less important. That applied to everyone at the office, not just Mackenna. Perhaps the programmers enjoyed their jobs not because they were nerds, but because technology interested them, especially the ability to make electronic programs. They weren’t nerds, they were creators. They literally built the systems the electricity grid was run on.
Feeling utterly humiliated about herself, Petal sank back against the wall, staring out over the fire as it slowly turned the brown wood into black and white ash.
“I’m such a huge bitch.”
The words rang true in the silence. She was a huge bitch. At some point in her past, the persona she’d adopted to deal with doubters and sexist pigs had actually become her. It was no longer a mask; it was a way of life that had seeped into far too many parts of her life.
Scared to go any further down the path of self-revelation, Petal put the thoughts away, knowing that she would have to face them later. That confrontation could wait, however, until she was back safe and sound in civilization. Then once the adrenaline wore away she could have a breakdown, drink a bottle or three of wine, and down a whole bunch of junk food while she cried herself out.
It wasn’t so much a guess as an accepted reality of what was going to happen. But for now, she needed to maintain her composure while she waited for Lex.
Lex, who had left hours earlier and still hadn’t returned.
“Where is he?”
The sound of her voice was reassuring in the silence that had become her constant companion since his departure.
She sat still, waiting. The seconds ticked by like hours. Petal looked at the fire, and then at the entrance. She could vaguely see a small outline of snow around the blanket, illuminated by the dancing yellow-orange light.
“Fuck this.”
She snatched up the blanket, the remaining ration bars, a bottle of water she’d filled with melted snow, got to her feet, and went to the entrance where she took the other blanket down. Putting it lengthwise, she wrapped it around under her armpits, tucking the edge into itself to keep it in place. Then she held the second one in front of her and used it to push down on the snow. There was already a hole in place for the smoke to escape, and she widened it now, coughing several times in the dirty air until she created a hole large enough for her to escape.
Petal emerged onto the hillside and stopped, staring in stunned surprise at the landscape even as she shivered intensely against the sudden and frigid temperature change.
The stars overhead shone with a brilliance that she’d never seen before. It took her a second to realize that the absence of city light was providing her with the sort of view she’d only ever seen on the internet or in pictures before. It was stunningly beautiful. Stars in their millions were visible in the sky. A large faded-white band wrapped across the sky. Petal had heard of such a sight, but this was her first time ever witnessing the Milky Way in person.
“It’s beautiful,” she said to herself, able to see the air condense in front of her face by the light of the sky, aided by its reflecting off the snow.
That reminded her of the fact that the temperature was much lower outside the cave, and she needed to keep moving if she was going to be okay. Thankfully she’d worn actual shoes instead of heels. Moving through the knee-high snow in four-inch heels would have been impossible. But in flats, she was able to pick out Lex’s trail in the snow and follow it down the hillside.
While Petal began to descend, in the east the sky began to lighten as the sun started its ascent. The light became useful the farther down she went, because she could still manage to follow Lex’s tracks. He was a big figure, and his footsteps were easy to follow. But as she moved in among the trees the sun continued to rise and the snow began to melt, turning to mud. The tracks became harder and harder to pick up.
Petal wondered if she was making a mistake, if she perhaps should have let Lex do his thing. She turned to look back up the hill in what she assumed was the general direction she’d come, and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t have stayed in the cave any longer. She needed out. The silence, the utter stillness of the rock and the various stray noises from outside had been too much for her to handle. She would have lost her composure staying in there.
No, she’d had to strike out after him, to make her own way back to civilization. Besides, with the sun coming up she no longer felt like she was going to freeze. So what was the big deal? She could do this now, without the cold to worry about! She needed to believe in herself. It was just a simple walk back to town. It might take her six or eight hours, and she’d be exhausted by the end, but it was absolutely doable. Besides, at some point she’d meet Lex coming back, and he’d have someone with him, or maybe an ATV or something.
Finally she came to a huge tree, easily six feet across that had fallen to the floor of the forest. The tracks disappeared at the tree. She looked for signs that he’d perhaps climbed up and over it, but the wind had kept the top of the trunk clear of any snow, depositing it around. Since she couldn’t see anything else, however, Petal had to assume he’d gone up and over. After all, the town was that way, she was sure of it. The trees obscured it, but she was positive she was still heading in the right direction.
Wincing at the further damage to her outfit, she climbed up onto the tree, eyes scanning the ground on the far side as soon as she was stable. There were no boot prints in the mud. Lex was a big man, his tracks were easy to spot, and she was positive she’d be able to see them. If he’d hopped down from the trunk, his weight would have driven him into the muck. She was no expert tracker—not even an amateur one—but that much occurred even to her.
Probably too many episodes of that show on TV where the cowboy-wannabe tracks down two contestants with nothing but his horse.
So she had some guilty pleasures, big deal.
“Think, Petal. Use your brain. His prints come right up to the tree behind you.” She looked down just to confirm that yes, there were bootmarks right up to the tree, right where she was standing. “But nothing on the far side.”
She peered over again, confirming that there was nothing.
“Oh. Shit.”
Petal was forced to correct herself. There were no boot marks on the far side. She’d been so busy looking for them, that she’d missed what was there.
Four paw prints. Big ones too.
“Wolf,” she whispered, going still, hoping that maybe they wouldn’t see her.
Really? Going still? You aren’t being hunted by a T. rex. Which you know from the Discovery Channel that the movie got that scene wrong. They could see you even if you weren’t moving. Stillness is not camo with a T. rex. Or a wolf for that matter.
Petal shook her head so violently is hurt, something it hadn’t done in quite a while. She needed to keep her composure, and not let her mind explode in seventy-three different directions all at once.
Think, woman. It might save your life.
Lex had clearly come to this point. But if he’d been confronted by a wolf on the far side, it was unlikely he would have jumped down. There was no blood, nothing that she would assume were signs of a fight, though she wasn’t really sure what to look for anyway. So that meant, since Lex wasn’t on the trunk still, that he’d jumped down somewhere else.
Maybe he’d found a way to rid himself of the wolf?
Feeling her hope rise, Petal got up and walked the length of the trunk, from one end to the other. It had to be a two-hundred-foot tree at least, and she walked it once, then twice, and finally a third time, moving slowly, her head turning side to side while she kept her ears open for anything suspicious-sounding.
But by the time she got back to where she started, it became clear. There was no other tracks she could follow. Dejected, and starting to doubt herself that she knew which way to head for town, Petal hopped down from the log and leaned against it to consider her options.
The sun was growing warm. She wasn’t going to freeze, and she had enough food and water to last her several days. Lex was an expert outdoorsman if what he’d accomplished up until then was any sign. Could she trust him to get to town and bring help back?
Yes, she decided at last. She could. But if she was going to put her trust in him, Petal had to ensure that he hadn’t misplaced the trust he put in her. Which meant going back to the cave.
“Fuck me,” she cursed, pushing off the log and starting back up the hill. Her tracks in the mud were easy to follow and she quickly reached the edge of the forest.
Which is where she realized that the snow had melted under the sun’s warmth, wiping her path. Her initial reaction was despair. Petal looked wildly from left to right, eyes scanning the hill in front of her, trying to recall if she’d come straight down into the forest, or if it had been at an angle.
There, that rock up there. That looked familiar, didn’t it? She’d walked past it. Right?
Unsure, Petal started walking, hoping that she might come across some sign of her previous path. But the warmth of the earth and the warmth of the sky had combined to accelerate the process of melting the snow, until it collapsed upon itself and hid her tracks.
She reached the rock, but now that she was there, Petal wasn’t so sure. It looked familiar. But had it been on her left, or on her right? The other way was still up, which she knew she had to do, but figuring out which way she’d gone was near impossible.
“What have I done?” she moaned, resting her arms on the rock and burying her head in them. “Petal, you idiot. Why couldn’t you just stay in the cave and do as you were told!”
Down the hill, a hundred feet or more in the distance, a branch cracked loudly in the forest. Petal jerked upright and turned to stare. Moments later she heard something that made her hair stand on end. The wolf’s howl was echoed by another. And another.
Shapes began to move in the bushes below, and a massive charcoal-colored wolf emerged from the tree line, its yellow eyes fixated on her.
“Lex,” she moaned. The wolves must have already gotten him, and now they were coming for her!
She wasn’t sure what inspired her, but before she knew it, Petal had reached down, and grabbed a stone that fit comfortably in her hand. She shrugged her shoulders, lifting her arms above her head, ensuring her suit would move.
The wolf came closer. Eighty feet.
Wait for it.
Sixty.
Hold.
Fifty.
Almost there. Just a little closer, you big prick.
The wolf paused at approximately forty feet away. Petal wasn’t an expert at judging distances, but she knew this one very well. Very well indeed. It had been nearly fifteen years, but she closed her eyes, dug deep into muscle memory, and willed her body to remember.
Please.
Petal’s legs split, one forward, one back. She held both hands out in front of her at waist height. Then, channeling all four years of Division 1A softball pitching experience into her much older body, she skipped forward, whirled her arm around, down, and released the rock with a furious shout.
The stone hurtled forward, smashing into the wolf’s face and forcing it to turn aside.
“Yes!” she shouted.
The gray snout whipped back around as the wolf snarled at her, blood streaming from what she supposed was its cheek. It made a barking-like noise, and several more shapes came out of the forest below at a swift lope, moving up the slope and fanning out.
“Oh. Shit.”
Petal began backpedaling, holding her hands out in front of her. “Good boy.” She doubted it would do any good, but all she’d seemed to do was make the animal even angrier with her by hitting it with her best shot. Calming it down seemed to be her best bet.
The wolf took a step forward.
“LEX!” she screamed, knowing he would never hear her.
The pack charged.