She couldn’t help herself. Her curiosity always took her to places or situations where she didn’t belong, even in her twenties. This time she was lying at the top of a ridge, in the dark. An occasional star twinkled through the forest branches above.
It was the flickering light below and the sound of voices that had drawn her. She readjusted position to keep a hunting knife’s handle from digging into her waist. Pushing the sole of her right hiking boot against the bottom of a tree trunk, she tensed and relaxed her leg muscles. She had been here awhile. It’s a good thing she was familiar with the area.
A girl, who looked to be fifteen or sixteen, sat on a log in front of a fire. Hands clasped between her knees, the girl stared intently into the flames, completely ignoring the three men. One fresh-faced, another rough, and the third grizzled. They laughed at their own raunchy jokes and threw crunched up, empty beer cans into the dark.
***
She pushed herself up into a crouched position at the top of the ridge, still hidden by the night. The rough drunk had stood, almost tipping over a rock in the process. “Is time f’r m’ treat.” He shuffled over to the girl by the fire and grabbed her elbow, yanking her up. The girl whimpered, but didn’t put up a fight.
As the rough drunk pushed the girl into the shadows, she bounded quickly down the slope, stepping on boulders instead of leaves, keeping silent. The other two men at the fire had almost drunk themselves into a stupor. Staying just outside the ring of flickering light, she made her way around the edge of their camp and turned the direction the girl had been taken.
Goosebumps tickled her arms and a lump formed in her throat. She hadn’t seen which way they had gone after that. Pausing, she listened. A string of profanities pierced the night. Apparently the drunk had fallen. She took a deep breath and headed that direction. Sounded like the girl wasn’t going to be hard to find after all.
***
She ran the short distance through the dark forest, not bothering this time to stay silent. Pushing through some evergreen branches, she pulled up. The rough drunk’s back was to her. He was busy unzipping his pants. The girl was standing slouched against a tree.
Good. The horrendous activity hadn’t started yet. She sprinted forward and rammed her shoulder into the rough drunk’s lower back. He grunted and stumbled, losing his footing. Scooting past him, she grabbed the girl’s hand. “Let’s get you out of here.”
She spun back the way she had come, the rough drunk’s fist meeting her face. “No, y’don’.” Her vision turned black as she fell backward. The girl cried out.
***
As her vision returned, the rough drunk was just inches from her face, his breath rank. “Y’ t’ink y’ gon’ do anyt’ing? A’ by y’urse’f?” He smacked her across the face and straightened back up, looking toward the girl.
Before he could take another step, she pushed herself up from the ground and rammed her shoulder into his kidney. He stumbled but didn’t fall. Turning toward her, his eyes blazed in the moonlight. This time she was ready for his swing and dodged, just out of reach.
As he steadied himself, she drew her hunting knife. The blade glinted. She could hear the girl gasp. Moving quickly, she sidestepped behind the rough drunk and hammered the blunt end of the handle into his temple. He fell.
***
She grabbed the girl’s wrist. “Come on!” Leaving the rough drunk prone on the ground behind them, they ran back toward the camp. Once they came to the flickering circle of light, they slowed. The other two men were passed out from their overconsumption of booze.
A couple voices came from a short distance above, over the ridge. The girl shrunk back. She glanced toward her. “It’s okay.” She guided the girl up behind her to the point on the ridge where she had started. Flashlights quickly made their way over and a familiar voice shouted out. “Is that you?”
In a matter of minutes, the park police had the girl wrapped in a wool blanket and the three drunks rounded up. The sun was just beginning to rise. The familiar officer gave her a lopsided grin as he eyed her hunting knife. “You always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She smiled. “I feel like I was in the right place at the right time, this time.”
***
This post was inspired by the hope*writers writing prompts for July 2022.
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