Backwoods. Jill Sorenson

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jumped.

      She was only airborne for a few seconds. Then she hit the water with a hard splash. It penetrated her eyelids and rushed in her nostrils. Panic bubbles emerged from her throat. After sinking deep, she clawed her way to the surface, gasping as she broke through.

      Brooke swam to her side, excited. “Mom! You did it!”

      She had done it. And she never wanted to do anything like it again.

      “How was it?” Nathan asked.

      “Horrible.”

      His smile faded. “You didn’t think it was fun?”

      “No.”

      The three of them seemed baffled by Abby’s response. Tears stung her eyes. She turned and swam to the narrow beach, collapsing on the sand.

      Nathan joined her. “I’m sorry,” he said, chagrined. “I thought you’d enjoy it.”

      She put a towel around her shoulders, still shaking.

      “I feel like a jerk.”

      Abby didn’t blame him for trying to help her. Maybe she was beyond hope. She practiced her steady breathing and positive visualization techniques. The sun warmed her wet hair. After a few moments, she calmed.

      And she noticed a change.

      The next time Brooke dived off the edge, Abby didn’t freeze up as much. She knew the drop wasn’t deadly. She’d survived it.

      “To be honest, I’m surprised you even climbed up there, let alone jumped,” Nathan said. “It was pretty scary.”

      She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “It was.”

      “You’ve got balls, lady.”

      “I feel better.”

      “You do?”

      She nodded. “I didn’t like it, but I’m glad I did it.”

      He studied her with a quiet sort of admiration, as if seeing her in a new light. His regard for her went deeper, slipping below the surface. He was attracted to her for reasons other than the way her breasts looked in a bikini. She thought about his offer to relieve her tension the old-fashioned way and realized then that it would never happen. They couldn’t have a no-strings sexual affair. The strings were already there.

      A scream rang out across the lake, startling her. Abby scrambled to her feet. Her damp towel fell off her shoulders.

      Nathan rose with her. “What was that?”

      Leo and Brooke were treading water near the boulders, so the cry hadn’t come from either of them. It sounded like a woman.

      Another shriek followed, high-pitched with terror.

      “Someone needs help,” Brooke said. She started swimming toward a thatch of trees on the opposite side of the lake.

      Abby covered her mouth with one hand. Her first instinct was to tell Brooke to stop, and the reaction shamed her. She’d always taught her daughter to help others, especially other girls. She went out of her way to do the same. But this was different. It was a threatening sort of unknown. An icy fear gripped Abby’s heart and wouldn’t let go.

      Leo accompanied Brooke with no hesitation whatsoever. Nathan waded into the water, cursing under his breath. He swam toward them, his strokes sure and swift. Abby couldn’t just stand there, frozen and helpless.

      She dove in and started swimming.

      Although Brooke had an early lead, Leo was the strongest swimmer. He caught up with her near the middle of the lake and pulled ahead. Nathan showed his athletic prowess by passing Brooke and continuing after his son. They were all scared. The race to the other side was no friendly competition, no fun adventure.

      Leo climbed out of the water first, his chest heaving. Nathan was right there with him. Brooke arrived shortly after.

      Abby concentrated on steady strokes, trying not to panic. By the time she stumbled onto the shore, Nathan and Leo were arguing about what to do. They stood in front of the thick copse of pine trees, faces tense.

      Panting from exertion, Abby walked toward Brooke.

      “Stay here,” Nathan ordered Leo.

      “Fuck, no,” Leo said. “I’m going with you.”

      Nathan reached down and picked up a heavy stick. Holding it like a baseball bat, he entered the forest. Leo found a fist-sized rock and went with him, ready to strike. Neither of them appeared to consider bringing along Abby or Brooke.

      Abby rested her palms on her knees, winded. She didn’t approve of them creeping into the forest like white knights, armed with blunt objects. They had no idea what was going on. A woman in pain or danger would respond better to other women.

      “Did you try calling out to her?” she asked Brooke.

      “No one answered,” Brooke said.

      They waited at the edge of the trees, dripping wet. This side of the lake was cloaked in shadow, and it made all the difference. The temperature was ten degrees cooler. Abby shivered in the cool air, her skin and hair damp.

      “How many screams did you hear?” Abby asked.

      “Two. I’m not sure where they came from.” Brooke wrapped her arms around her body, glancing over her shoulder.

      Abby studied their surroundings. It was called Echo Lake for a reason. The granite rock formations caused sound to bounce off in all directions. She could have sworn the cries rang out from here, but she wasn’t sure. “Could an animal make that noise?”

      “Maybe a mountain lion.”

      “It sounded like a woman.”

      “Or a girl,” Brooke said quietly.

      Abby remembered the drowning victim’s age: seventeen. The missing hiker was twenty-five, the lost girlfriend twenty-one.

      Brooke wasn’t the type to sit on the sidelines. She searched the branches by the shore and picked up two hefty sticks. Passing one to Abby, she tilted her head toward the woods. Abby debated the wisdom of following the men, but she couldn’t stop Brooke from going, and she wanted to stay together.

      Brooke tiptoed into the foliage, stealthy and silent. Abby crept close behind, wincing as her bare foot encountered a sharp rock. They inched forward, ears and eyes peeled. Abby saw no signs of humans or large animals. She heard no sounds, other than birds chirping and lizards rustling through the leaves.

      Brooke continued through a small clearing. They were straying too far from the lakeshore, but Abby kept moving. She squinted at a strange shape in the trees ahead. Insects swarmed in a dark cloud. Her nostrils tickled with a muddy, metallic smell. She became aware of a stretching sound, like swaying rope.

      “Ugh,” Brooke said, wrinkling her nose.

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