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“We stay here, in the mountains, and wait for rescue. You’ll be better off with me than that crowd.”
His words make sense, I guess. And he’s good in a crisis. Despite the uncertainty gnawing at my gut, I find myself nodding. “Okay. We’ll stay. I’ll just go ask Carrie if she wants to stay with us.”
Asher’s expression softens slightly, a hint of relief in his eyes and he watches me walk away to speak to Carrie. She’s stunned that I’m not coming with everybody else, warns me that I’m making a mistake but I’ve already made my decision. Carrie decides to go with the others and I walk back to Asher again.
”She’s not coming with us,” I say, worry making my gut twists but Asher gives my shoulder a soft squeeze.
“She’ll be fine. Let’s find some supplies and get away from the wreckage.”
We gather what we can—blankets, first aid kits, bottles of water, food, anything that might be useful. We even manage to find our own luggage, albeit parts of it has been scattered.
”Honey,” Asher murmurs, picking up a jar, ”lasts a long time.” He puts it inside his bag and I cast a glance at the group preparing to leave. A pang of guilt blows in my chest, but I push it aside. Asher’s judgment feels solid, and so far he hasn’t let me down.
5.
Asher
The air is thin and colder up here, despite us being only at the end of the summer. Solange and I make our way through the rugged terrain, the mountains loom high above us, their peaks shrouded in mist. I keep a firm grip on Solange’s hand, guiding her over the uneven ground, making sure she doesn't stumble.
“There has to be some sort of shelter around,” I tell her. “This mountain is popular with hikers. We’ll find something.”
She nods, her face pale but determined. “I hope so. I’ve already got blisters.” At least she doesn’t have her heels on, but managed to find some sneakers.
I squeeze her hand, offering her a comforting smile. “You’re doing good. Just stay close to me.”
The path is difficult, each step a challenge as we navigate the rocky ground. Solange struggles at times, her breath coming in short gasps, but she pushes on, her resolve impressive. I keep an eye on her, watching for any signs of fatigue or injury in case I’ll have to carry her. She’s strong for her size, but everyone has their limits.
“Careful here,” I say, helping her over a particularly steep section. I place my hands on her waist, lifting her slightly to ease her climb. She gasps, but manages a grateful smile when she reaches the top. “Good job.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” she breathes, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
”You won’t have to find out,” I reply, my voice steady. “I’m right behind you.”
We continue our trek, the cold biting at our exposed skin. The forest is dense, the path winding and sometimes barely visible. I stay alert, scanning the surroundings for any signs of shelter. My senses are heightened, every rustle of leaves, every crack of a branch, setting me on edge. But I keep my demeanor calm, for Solange’s sake.
She stumbles on a loose rock, and I catch her before she falls, pulling her close. “Easy,” I murmur, my arm around her waist. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she says, her voice shaky. “Just lost my footing.”
I nod, letting her go once she’s steady. “We’ll take it slow. No rush.”
As we move forward, I spot a faint trail marker, a small wooden sign half-hidden by foliage. “Look,” I point out, guiding her towards it. “We’re on the right track.”
Her eyes light up with hope, tears spurting. ”Finally.”
We follow the trail, the terrain gradually becoming more manageable. The wind howls through the trees, and the temperature continues to drop. I keep Solange close, her warmth a small comfort against the biting cold. When she shivers, I drape a blanket over her shoulders, pulling it tight.
“You’ll be warm soon,” I promise, my voice low. “Just a little further.”
We hike for what feels like hours, the sky growing darker, the forest more foreboding. I can sense Solange’s exhaustion, see the strain in her eyes, but she doesn’t complain. She trusts me, and knowing that I have her trust makes me feel like the biggest, baddest bastard alive.
“There,” I say, spotting a small wooden cabin nestled between the trees. It’s weathered but sturdy in the desolate wilderness. “We’ve found it.”
Solange’s relief is palpable, her smile tired but genuine. “I was almost getting worried.”
I smile back, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction that I could keep my promise. “Let’s get inside and get your temperature up.”
The cabin is small and rustic, the walls adorned with faded photographs of hikers and climbers who have sought shelter here before us. The floor creaks under our feet as we step inside, the air inside musty but it’s more comforting than being outside.
