Page 66 of Hell and High Water

“So much for catching up on gossip,” I murmur, trotting back up the long driveway.

That wasn’t the purpose of my outing, anyway.

The real draw is an old pamphlet I found stashed in the coffee table drawer of the safehouse. It’s a map of the surrounding trails from back when there was a functioning Parks and Rec department in Severance.

Heading off around the side of the house, I scramble up the scree lining the property and onto an old trail that leads up, up, up. There’s an overlook nearby that I am determined to check out.

Every step away from the house is like a battery recharge, taking me higher, deeper into the trees.

I’ve never been much of an outdoorsy person, but I’ve also never spent so many days cooped up in a house with nothing to do.

Thirty minutes later, however, I’m feeling a bit peaked, the incline forcing me to take a break. According to the map, I should be close, but close is pretty relative, I guess.

Maybe I bit off more than I can chew.

Slugging some water, I sit on a rock for a bit when I feel a buzz in my pocket.

I forgot to turn off my phone.

Several notifications go off in a row before I can unlock it to look.

And just as I do, the single bar drops back to zero.

“Shit!” I’m on my feet, heading up the trail.

Several more minutes of walking like an idiot with phone out in front of me, and I get another bar, just for a second. Every thought of exhaustion flutters away as I swipe through a few emails, mostly junk.

It’s the social media notifications that really have me jonesing, though.

Yes. I am an addict like the rest of the world.

I just want a little, just a tiny bit of garbage culture to swipe through.

Maybe a stupid reel or story from someone I know. I’m so distracted that I barely notice when I clear the trees and step into open air.

Looking up, I stop dead in my tracks.

“Holy. Wow.”

The valley stretching out below the overlook is unbelievable.

Trees, green and lush, along with glittering lakes and a river, sprawl out as far as I can see. A fine shimmer of dust hangs just faint enough to see for miles and miles, all while accenting the sun and layering the sweeping hills and mountains behind in a surreal haze.

And there… nestled off to my left in the crags of the rolling mountains, a cluster of buildings, punctuated in the center by a bright red brick building with a clock tower.

It’s beyond picturesque, like every box I needed checked all at once.

Easing down onto a huge, flat rock, I kick my feet out, basking in afternoon bliss.

Maybe I should do more hiking when we get back to Sanctum.

If we get back to Sanctum.

The thought is sobering, stifling a bit of my peaceful mood. Nothing could completely ruin this moment for me, though.

Note to self: Make this hike every day until it's easy.

I linger at the overlook for a while, snapping a few photos that will never do it justice.

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