Page 72 of Over the Edge

Evelyn

Wilderness Survival: Monday, 8 a.m. – 11:00 a.m. @ River Ridge trail

Ilook at the text again.

Garrett

Work thing. Can’t make it. Is that ok?

Evelyn

Yeah, that’s ok.

“Is something wrong?” Quinn asks as she stretches her calves using the trailhead marker for balance. The plan was for all of us to meet here at eight but I got the text just as I was leaving.

“No. Why?” I ask as I shove my phone into my shorts.

“Because you’ve checked your phone about ten times in the last five minutes,” she says.

Closer to twenty, but who’s counting?

“It’s nothing, just checking to see what’s up with Garrett,” I tell her.

Oliver finishes taking a drink from his water bottle then looks our way. “Is everything okay?”

“I think so.” I really hope so. Work isn’t a casual thing for him and it must be serious if they asked for him.

“You can go,” Quinn says.

“Would you guys be okay with that, going on the trail all by yourselves?”

“You know these things don’t require adult supervision. Even if they did, we are adults so I think we’ll be just fine.” A wry smile pulls on Quinn's lips.

“If you’re sure,” I hedge.

“You’re not going to let us down if you leave,” Oliver adds. “We have another week and a half here.” It’s what I need to hear and the moment his eyes meet mine, I know that’s exactly why he said it.

“We’ll do something tomorrow. Anything you guys want,” I say, my eyes already on the short path to the parking lot.

Quinn considers for a moment. “Dinner at the house you and Garrett are staying at.”

“I’ll take care of everything!” I promise as I start to dart off.

When I reach my SUV I pat my pockets looking for my keys. When I don’t feel them I check again as if they somehow got lost in the thin fabric of my exercise shorts. I keep my eyes on the ground as I make my way back to the trailhead, searching for any hint of metal or my black fob on on the packed earth.

Snippets of hushed voices cause me to slow down. I only catch parts of the sentences and they sound agitated.

“Do you think it’s necessary?” It takes me a moment to realize it’s Quinn because of her agitated tone.

“But what if?”

“I don’t see how? I’m still not sure—”

“We should. It’s for the best—”

I’m torn between hanging back for a few moments to let them finish whatever has them sounding upset or going for the keys.

When I reach the top of the rise, I see my keys at the edge of the trail, half-covered in a pile of leaves where Quinn and I were stretching. When I look up, I freeze.

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