but now I found myself winded as I climbed over or around fallen trees to stay on course. Was this nature’s doing, from the storm? Or were these tiring obstacles placed there on purpose, to wear us out so we couldn’t fight the zombies?
Buzzing winged insects circled around my head and nipped my cheeks and neck. Swollen bug bites and eczema left the backs of my hands inflamed, sore, and irritated. In my hasty cave departure, I’d remembered to douse myself in OFF! before leaving, but the spray was ineffective: it was as if these bugs were attracted to my spray, not repelled by it. I hoped the bear spray didn’t have the same effect. Last thing I needed now in my exhausted, sweaty state was bear magnetism.
Walking alone in the forest was much creepier than walking alone in Seattle, even compared to the rough parts of Pioneer Square after midnight. Here, every animal rustling, pitter-pattering, or rooting around made my stomach churn and the hairs on my arms stand on end. Someone could murder me out in the wilderness, and no one would even know. Not even Nate.
Past the thick, droopy tree limbs, the dirt path continued up the side of the jutted cliff. I placed each foot carefully, one step firmly in front of the other, so my ankle wouldn’t buckle in the slippery, muddy terrain. One small misstep and I’d send stones (or myself) tumbling off the edge.
The sun was positioned at exactly the wrong angle for this last leg of our competition, the cliff just high enough to get plenty of direct light. Blinding, disorienting sunlight, smack in the eyes with no relief.
One small step in front of the other. Like a tightrope walker.
Left. Right.
Left. Right.
Up the incline I went, taking in the occasional breathtaking view of the forest below. Perched high above the woods, quietness and stillness surrounded me. The path wrapped around the cliff, out of immediate view, and protruded out again farther down on what appeared to be a second cliff.
I made my way around the first bend and stopped cold.
In the middle of the trail, sitting with his knees tucked to his chest was nemesis Nate. Backpack off, eyes squeezed shut, trembling too hard to be meditating. How long had he been there? Probably more than a few minutes. Maybe an hour or two—no doubt he’d been moving faster than I had.
Not wanting to startle him, I said in the calmest, quietest voice I could muster, “Nate? Um…are you okay?”
He kept his eyes closed. “Hey. I just need a little break.”
“But…here?”
Nate was sitting just past a critical juncture in the trail’s topography. The path narrowed even more up ahead, and where we were now, no greenery shielded the outer edges. Here, a simple slip meant you’d plummet straight down into the forest and meet a certain death.
It was funny to think that a few hours before, Nate was hurling firecrackers and sprinting ahead of me. Fearless and confident.
“Are you sick? Is it the height?”
He took deep, calm breaths, eyes still closed. “Yeah. And there’s at least a quarter-mile left on this cliff. I…lost the bo staff. I dropped it, and it rolled off the side of the cliff. I couldn’t hear it land—that’s how high we are.”
He continued. “I’ve been here for maybe an hour, in this exact spot. I can’t move, forward or backward. If I take off my wristband, they’ll come get me. Maybe I should just do that.”
My mouth hung open. “What? You’re giving up?”
He opened one eye and focused it on me. “You can’t get around me. It’s too narrow. I can’t let you meet the same fate as my bo staff. When they clear me out, you can keep going then. I haven’t seen anyone else on this trail.” He closed his eye. “That could mean we’re smarter than everyone—”
“Or we’re idiots for taking the plummet-to-our-deaths path?”
“Yep,” he mumbled. “If you’re in a real hurry, there’s one way you can keep going. You’d need to crawl on top of me and then get off. I can try to help you with