Mapmaker by Mark Bomback

Author:Mark Bomback [Bomback, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-61695-350-8
Publisher: Soho Press
Published: 2015-04-14T04:00:00+00:00

The sky was grey-blue when I woke up. At first I had no recollection of where I was. I stared at the earth, the leaves, the endless trees in disbelief. Just yesterday I had woken up in my own bed and now I was in a dry creek bed in the woods, lost, far from home. Somewhere I could hear the tinkling sound of water.

I pushed myself up. My head ached, I was thirsty and dizzy. At least the pain in my ankle had subsided. The palms of my hands were bloody and scuffed from where I’d fallen, and I knew I had to rinse the dirt away from the broken skin as soon as possible. My jeans were ripped at the knee and covered in dirt and leaves. I looked like a child who’d taken a terrible spill on the playground. But I wasn’t a child and this wasn’t a fall from a bike or roller skates.

Behind me the earth rose at a steep angle, twenty-three feet up to a ridge, scarred by my path. That fall might have saved my life. The creek wasn’t entirely dry; seventeen feet to my right was a small stream of water running slowly over the rocks. In the dawn it looked crystal clear.

I had never been so happy to see water before. I limped over to it. I knew my ankle wasn’t broken, though. I knelt down and let the icy water rinse the dirt and blood from my scraped hands. I cupped them and gulped feverishly, spilling all over myself. Water had never tasted so good, so clean and cold. I washed my face and wiped the dirt from my jeans and the navy sweatshirt I had on. Then I took off my sneakers and socks and soaked my feet and ankle, hoping it would stop the swelling and pain.

Birds chirped overhead. I realized I was panting. But I felt human again. Now I had to find my way out of the woods. I stood up. The sun was just climbing over the treetops. I figured it was about eight A.M. I turned myself in a circle. The ravine wall blocked my path back to the gas station, but I didn’t want to go there. They might still be waiting for me. I marked the tree I’d slept against with a rock, carving a double line in the bark and headed northeast, toward home, measuring in my head as I went.

I counted two hundred yards, marked another tree, and limped another two hundred yards, marked another tree and walked another two hundred steps. My stomach sunk in with hunger, my ankle ached, I couldn’t stop thinking about grapefruit juice and a grilled cheese sandwich. I imagined I’d find an ace bandage on the ground.

A thousand yards became two thousand. I fought back a tide of panic. The woods were endless. Was Blaney looking for me? The police? Beth? I knew she was and she must be worried sick. Harrison, my father’s

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