Nothing Short of Dying by Erik Storey Read Free Book Online

out to Allie. We’d been driving for about twenty minutes, in and out of clearings, winding our way farther up the mountain and away from Rifle. I’d left the main road, turning instead onto a series of two-tracks that led farther north into the trees. Allie had sat mostly in silence as we bounced and jostled up the narrow roads.
    â€œSure,” she said, handing me the congealed lump. “It’s cold.”
    I took it from her and finished it in three big bites.
    â€œWhy are we still driving?” Allie asked.
    â€œIn case they kept following us somehow. If they make it as far as we’re going, they won’t be able to get back off the mountain. They didn’t stop anywhere to get gas.”
    â€œOh.” The sun was much lower now. The lengthening shadows from the trees stretched across the road and into the open areas on the right. “Are we going back to town now?”
    â€œNope. Thought we’d camp up here for the night. Give everyone a chance to cool down.”
    â€œCamping?” She frowned. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
    â€œYou have camped before, right?” I asked.
    â€œI grew up in Mack, Barr. Camping was the only thing to do on the weekends after we finished chores. That and drinking.”
    I smiled and found the spot I was looking for. Stopped the truck in a narrow part of the road, jammed it into reverse, and backed into a clearing. The tailgate battered its way through branches until we were in the middle of a sunny, early-flower-filled park. I pulled underneath a tall ­ponderosa pine at the edge of the clearing and shut off the truck. Once I’d climbed out of the cab, I put my outstretched hand below the sun, thumb up, fingers parallel with the horizon, index finger sitting directly below the sun. There was room for another hand, so at least two hours until sunset. Fifteen minutes per finger, one hour per hand.
    Allie got out, grabbed her backpack, and set it on the ground next to the mud-encrusted tires. She rummaged inside, found a hooded sweatshirt, and put it on.
    â€œAren’t your legs cold?” I asked, as she zipped up her pack and slung it on her back.
    â€œNo. I’m fine.”
    I opened the back of the truck and pulled out one of the camping bags. “I’ve got extra pants, extra long johns, even a couple of coats if you want, though they’ll be big on you.”
    She stared out from her hood, sour-faced. “Stop fussing over me. I’m fine.”
    I felt the cool breeze blowing off the snow-topped mountains, looked at the falling sun. “It’ll drop twenty, thirty degrees tonight. You’ll need pants.”
    â€œNot if you start a fire and give me something to do. I’ll stay warm. Really, Barr, I’m not an idiot. I’ve done this before.”
    I shook my head. There was no arguing. If she got cold,she’d shiver and suffer before she asked for any help. “Okay.” I pulled the tent from the bag and tossed it to her. “Here. If you’re such an expert, set this up.”
    She caught the small bag filled with the flimsy fabric, twirled it around, and opened the drawstring.
    As I started walking away into the forest, I called back, “I’m getting firewood. See if you can figure that out before I get back.”
    Before I was more than a couple feet into the trees, I heard the poles hit the ground, then Allie responding, “It’s not rocket science, Barr. Try not to get lost.”
    Deeper into the forest, I could hear occasional swearing from Allie as she attempted to set up the crazy configuration of tent poles inside the tent. I smiled as the clean spring wind blew by me and rattled the aspen leaves. I picked up fallen limbs until I had a good armload, then headed back, my boots sinking deep into the black loamy soil.
    As I retraced my steps, my mind started drifting to Jen and what kind of trouble she might be in. Did it help or hurt that