Rise

twenty one

"IT'S SO CLOSE," SARAH CALLED AS WE CRESTED THE HILL. "I can see the water." I scanned the trees, making sure I'd directed us to the right spot. It was as I'd remembered it, but seemed lonelier somehow, the lake unfamiliar in Caleb and Arden's absence.

The girls broke into a run as the water spread out before them, the sky showing pink and orange against its glassy surface. Bette helped Helene down the rocky slope, holding the sled from the back, careful not to let it slide too fast. I watched her, grateful we'd made it. We'd built three fires on the way north-only during the day, to boil lake water-and suffered through nights in the cold, too afraid the smoke would be seen from the road. When we'd camped at Crowley Lake, a vehicle had passed above us. We saw it stop on the ridgeline, the soldiers getting out as they surveyed the pavement, studying for a few minutes the faint footprints we'd left in the sand before passing us by.

Bette helped Helene up, and they started toward the lake. Helene limped, still unable to put weight on her bad leg. As they reached the shallows, the other girls hardly turned, instead rinsing their arms and legs with the clean water. They hadn't hidden their annoyance with Bette. Even now, a week and a half later, they walked yards in front of her, sometimes ignoring her when she called to them.

Sarah submerged herself in the shallows. She washed quickly, taking handfuls of sand and rubbing it against her arms, then filling her bottles with fresh water. "I don't see them," she said, scanning the trees behind me. "Maybe they're not here."

A few of the girls turned at the mention of the boys. They stepped out of the water, filling the last of their bottles and setting them on shore. "I'm not going up there," Bette said, glancing at the darkness between trees. "I don't care if I sleep aboveground."

"You're certain it's safe?" Clara said as she walked up beside me. She dropped her pack and rubbed the tender spot on her shoulder where the strap dug into her skin. "We can stay here?"

"I'm not certain of anything," I said, looking at the path that led up to the dugout. "But the place is hidden. There's water and plenty to hunt. We might be able to take the horses the rest of the way-it would take at least a week off the trip to Califia."

Clara's gaze fell on Helene. Beatrice was unwrapping her leg, changing the splint and towels that held the bone in place. None of us had said it out loud, but her injury had slowed our pace considerably. Though we all took turns pulling her along, some of the girls were too weak, and the majority of the task fell to Clara, Beatrice, and me. Despite a few small meals of rabbit, we were perpetually hungry. There was a dull, constant ache in my stomach, and my energy was low. I worried if we didn't stay here and rest, conserving what strength we had, we'd be stranded on the way to Califia, somewhere with even fewer resources. We might not make it there at all.

Bette took up a handful of wet sand and scrubbed the dirt from her palms. Some of the girls waded in up to their knees but refused to turn away from the shore, keeping their eyes on the forest, as if waiting for the boys to appear. They were all so thin. Lena had a horrible sunburn on her shoulders, the skin red and blistering.

Helene and Beatrice were still on shore. Helene winced as Beatrice held the two narrow boards against her leg. She began wrapping the rope around them, securing the splint in place.

I started toward the girls, trying to push away the doubts I'd had about coming here. I'd revisited those last hours in the dugout so many times, wondering if it was foolish to be back, knowing Leif had been the one to betray us to Fletcher. As long as my father was looking for me, as long as he had the means to, there was always the chance someone would send word to the army about where I was. From now on every light on the road, every sign of smoke in the distance, and every stranger we encountered was a threat.