Lost at Running Brook Trail by Sheryl A. Keen Read Free Book Online

incredulously at Elaine and held her hands out in a plea. “She does not listen to reason!”
    “Yeah, you’re right, but she’s not going to respond positively to aggression either.”
    “I’m right here!” Kimberly shouted and spat in the stones. “So stop talking about me as if I’m not!”
    “Yes, we know you’re right here, sweet face,” Miriam said, “and now you can hear us and everything else loud and clear.” She stuck her two index fingers in her ears, turned to Kimberly and clucked her tongue in mockery.
    Kimberly scoffed and looked away. Her ear was still smarting where Miriam had dragged the bud out.
    After another couple kilometers the gravel road began to fall away, giving way to smaller pebbles and a mixture of sand. Beyond this a serene, slow-moving river snaked its way along. There was no sign of civilization. The rough beach was strewn with discarded paddles and parts of broken boats.
    “Maybe this is where that canoe came from.” Elaine, her feet hot from heat and the extended sojourn on packed gravel, took off her boots and placed her feet in the water, which was surprisingly and refreshingly cold.
    Above them, flying too low for comfort, numerous hawks thrust themselves through the air on broad wings.
    “Why was it out there?” Susan was rooted to the spot. She looked up at the squawking birds. She could see their talons, sharp and menacing with every bold swoop.
    Miriam, who also had her feet in the water, quickly withdrew them. “Elaine, there are things moving in there.”
    Elaine removed her feet too and observed. She saw the hard shells of several turtles sliding into the water. What else might be in there?
    “Eww,” Susan said, “good thing I didn’t put my feet in there.”
    “You’ll put your feet in nothing.” Elaine looked up at the hawks. Their hooked beaks were prominent and they seemed to have red on their shoulders.
    Kimberly was also glad that she had not put her feet in the water. She had taken off her boots and her socks to give her feet some air, but she had not trusted the water.
    The river was partially enclosed by dark green evergreen trees, their leaves elongated and sticking out like needles. The cast-off brown cones were scattered along the ground. Huge rocks jutted up from the ground, washed from time to time by high tides and rain. On these, all four of them played silly games of hopscotch. It took their minds off where they were and why they were there. After they jumped and leaped from rock to rock, they ate what would have been lunch because it was now far into the afternoon. Susan, who had already eaten her lunch, pulled out yet another chocolate bar from her bag and devoured it.
    Elaine looked at her watch. “They might not find us today.” The onions and the mayonnaise in her tuna sandwich were playing havoc with her stomach. She’d waited too long to eat.
    “Jesus!” Susan said with a look of dread. “Tomorrow? How are we going to survive until then?”
    “I thought,” Elaine said, “you don’t like anyone using God’s name in vain. Three or ten hail Mary’s and all that Catholic stuff. You must have known this was a possibility.”
    Susan didn’t respond. Her mind was too taken up with the possibility of spending the night in darkness and bushes with no modern conveniences.
    “We made a mistake,” Elaine said.
    “Of course we did! We stopped without notifying the group.”
    “No, I mean after we realized the group had left us.” Elaine looked out at the tiny islands in the river. They fractured the whole into partitions. “We panicked and ran. We should have waited where we were for them to come and get us.”
    “We thought they were right in front of us. I doubt we stopped for ten minutes. They probably took a hidden trail that we ran past and didn’t see. I don’t see what we could have done differently except not stop for selfish people.”
    Kimberly scoffed, and Susan, her eyes closed, said a silent prayer.
    “We should