It Doesn’t Go Away by Wendy Dalrymple

Author:Wendy Dalrymple [Wendy Dalrymple]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 3-B Publishing
Published: 2023-05-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Branches scratched at my ankles and my big toe screamed in agony with every step as I pushed myself through the dark woods. I ran until my lungs threatened to collapse and a hot knife wedged itself into my ribs. I ran until stars flooded my vision and sirens rang in my ears. I ran until I was certain that I didn’t hear the man’s thudding steps or a barking dog anymore. I ran into the bleakness of nothing.

The bonfire at the center of the Frogstomp campground had long been extinguished, giving me no beacon, no point of reference to return to find help. In my panicked state, I had no way of knowing how far I sped through the trees. I only hoped to get away from the man and his dog, with the intention of staying parallel to the perimeter of the campground. Instead, I had deeper and deeper into the forest and further away from the trail.

Finally, when I couldn’t go on any longer, I stopped to press my back against a tree. I tuned my ears to the silent woods and willed myself to calm down as I took stock of my situation. I had to be logical, and had to think clearly. I wasn’t lost. I couldn’t have run that far away from camp or the trail. I just had to turn around and go back the way that I came and pray that I didn’t walk into the man and his dog again. I cursed myself for not bringing my can of mace with me. I should have had it at the ready, or had my pocket knife with me. I should have screamed for Melissa or Jeanne at the very least! But I didn’t, and mulling over everything that I should have done wasn’t going to help me now. I needed to figure out how to get back without being seen.

I turned and began the slow trek through the woods toward my campsite, all of my senses on high alert. I shuddered against the night and considered what my next steps would be. Would the man and his dog be watching me? Was he a fellow camper, or someone from town? Was he a drifter? Or like Jeanne said; someone running from the law and living on the trail? Either way, I didn’t care to see him or his dog again. I considered turning on the flashlight from my phone but figured that would make me a walking target. Instead, I moved quietly through the trees back towards the direction I thought I should go.

The pain in my toe made it difficult for me to navigate over the thick layer of pine needles, roots and branches on the forest floor. Without my walking sticks, every step was agony as I stumbled and forced myself to stay upright. Moving in complete silence was impossible but I tried my best to be stealthy so as not to be seen or heard. I shivered in my thin layers, my heart rate never quite returning to normal as I continued on through the night.

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