He ran on, mimicking Alec with every step, hoping they’d round the fire and break away from it before he died of thirst and heat exhaustion. The sound of the flames was the only thing he heard now, a constant roar like the ignited thrusters of a thousand Bergs.
Suddenly, a woman came tearing through the woods from the right just ahead, the fire a glint in the madness of her eyes. Mark prepared himself for a fight, expecting the woman to turn and attack them. But she ran across their path in front of Alec—if she’d been a little slower he would’ve plowed right over her body. The woman ran, silent and determined, her feet crashing through the undergrowth. She tripped and fell, got back up. And then she disappeared in the wall of flames and her screams cut short.
Alec and Mark kept running.
Finally they reached the edge of the expanding inferno, the line of it far more distinct than Mark would’ve expected. They kept the same distance, but it felt good, sent a burst of fresh adrenaline through his body, to be turning toward the left, turning toward Trina and the others again. Mark ran even harder, almost tripped Alec’s feet up when he caught up to him. Then they were side by side.
Every breath was a chore for Mark. The air scalded his throat as it went down, and the smoke was like poison. “We’ve gotta … get away … from this thing.”
“I know!” Alec shouted back, bursting into a long fit of coughing. He quickly glanced at the compass gripped in the palm of his hand. “Almost … there.”
Soon they rounded another corner of the main body of flames, and this time Alec veered to the right, heading away from the fire. Mark followed, realizing that he was completely disoriented now. He didn’t think it was time to head straight again, but he trusted the old man. They trampled through the woods with renewed energy, going faster than ever. Mark could feel the fresher air with every breath he sucked into his lungs. The volume of the inferno’s roar also died down enough that he could hear the crunching sounds of his footsteps again.
Alec stopped suddenly.
Mark ran past him a few steps before he could do the same. He turned to Alec and asked if he was okay.
The man was leaning against a tree, his chest heaving as he took in short bursts of breath. He nodded, then buried his head in the crook of his arm with a loud groan.
Mark bent over, hands on his knees, relishing the chance to rest. The wind had died down and the fire seemed at a somewhat safe distance now. “Man, you had me worried there for a while. I’m not sure that was the brightest thing ever to run so close to a raging inferno.”
Alec looked over at him, but his face was mostly hidden in shadow. “You’re probably right. But it’s easy to get turned around in a place like this at night. I was dead set on keeping the path we’d followed straight in my head.” He checked his compass, then pointed at a spot over Mark’s shoulder. “Our little camp is that way.”
Mark looked around and saw nothing that distinguished that part of the woods. “How do you know? All I see is a bunch of trees.”
“Just because I know.”
Strange noises filled the night, mixed in with the steady roar of the fire. Screams and laughter. It was impossible to tell which direction they were coming from.
“Looks like those crazy buggers are still runnin’ around looking for trouble,” Alec said through a groan.
“Crazy buggers is right—I was hoping they’d all die in the fire.” Mark said it before realizing how terrible it sounded. But the side of him that wanted to survive at all costs—that had become ruthless over the last year—knew it was the truth. He didn’t want to have to worry about them anymore. He didn’t want to spend the rest of the night and the next day looking over his shoulder.
“If wishes were fishes …,” Alec said. He took a deep, long breath. “Okay. We better hurry and meet back up with the three ladies.”
They started jogging, a little slower than earlier, but not much. The return of those sounds, even though they didn’t seem too close at the moment, obviously had them both on edge.
A few minutes later, Alec changed course, changed again. He stopped at one point, got his bearings, poked around a bit, then pointed down a slope.
“Ah,” he said. “It’s right down there.”
They set off that way, slipping and sliding as the descent got steeper. The wind had shifted, blowing back toward the fire, filling their lungs with fresh air and easing that concern—at least temporarily. Mark had grown so used to the light from the flames that he’d failed to notice that dawn had crept up on them—the sky through the branches above him was now purple instead of black, and he could faintly see where he was going. The landscape grew familiar and suddenly they were back at the camp. Their things were still laid out exactly as they’d left them.
But there was no sign of Trina or the others.
A little seed of panic sprouted inside Mark’s chest. “Trina!” he yelled. “Trina!”
He and Alec quickly combed the surrounding area, calling their friends’ names as they did.
But all was quiet.