The Third Message novel · Chapter 3 of 24
Chapter 3: The Wrong Trail
Dragged up a mountain on a bad leg, Lana is called a homewrecker by strangers, and Bree says she is scared of the dark.
They put me in the shuttle van between them.
Nine other people were already inside, all Ridgemont geology students.
Burke and Bree chatted with every one of them for the whole ride.
I sat by the window and nobody said my name.
At the trailhead, Burke lifted my backpack off me without asking.
"Me too," Bree said, and held out hers.
He slung it over his other shoulder and smiled at her.
That was when I saw the hammers and sample bags. This was another field survey for Bree's class, and I was the person who came along to carry things.
"Be nice to Lana, everyone," Bree told the group with a sweet smile. "She's still adjusting."
Three of them looked at my leg and then at one another.
I told Burke my leg hurt.
He said, "It's a gentle trail. Stop worrying."
An hour up, the ache in my hip turned sharp.
I stopped on the path. "I'm done. I'm going down."
Bree glanced back at me over her shoulder, annoyed, and kept climbing.
Burke came back down two steps and blocked the trail.
"I'm already carrying your pack, Lana. What more do you want?"
A guy from the team brushed past me. "Two steps and she's tired. Why do beginners even come?"
I took the trekking pole and threw it in the dirt.
Burke caught my arm before I'd taken a step downhill.
"Going down alone is dangerous. Keep climbing. The cable car is at the top."
So I climbed.
The sky went orange, then gray, and the trees closed in on both sides.
There was no cable car, no station and no sign.
My leg shook so hard I had to grip a branch to stay up.
"Where is the cable car?" I asked.
Nobody answered.
Bree finally said in a small, thin voice, "We took the wrong trail."
I turned to Burke.
His mouth was pressed shut. He did not look at me.
He had known it for an hour. I could see it now.
Someone called emergency rescue, but nobody could say where we were on the mountain.
My phone showed one bar of signal and a few percent of battery.
I opened a voice memo and slid it into my jacket pocket, still recording.
Last life I'd had no proof of anything.
I leaned against a tree and whispered his name.
"Burke. My leg."
Before he could answer, one of the guys snapped at me.
"If you're sick, why come at all? You just wanted extra credit and a boyfriend to carry your bag, didn't you?"
Another girl laughed. "His real girlfriend is standing right here. Have you no shame?"
A third one nodded. "Bree told us all about you. You beg for attention every chance you get."
Bree had said that, sweetly, to strangers, while I was still dating Burke.
I looked at Bree.
Bree dropped her eyes to the ground and did not say a word.
I understood it then. For months, these people had believed Bree was Burke's girlfriend.
And I was the hanger-on who wouldn't leave.
Burke had let them believe it.
Pain flooded my leg and sweat broke out on my neck. I slid down the tree to the ground.
Burke finally spoke, short and cold.
"Everyone calm down. Don't take it out on her."
He crouched, pressed a painkiller into my palm and held the water to my mouth.
For a second, my chest eased.
"I'll carry you down the way we came," he said.
I reached for his sleeve.
"Burke, I can't stand."
Bree made a soft, frightened sound behind him.
"Burke," she said, and her voice was already wet. "I'm scared of the dark."
He froze.
"You have a flashlight."
"Not without you." She caught his sleeve in both hands. "I'm still scared."
Someone said, right on cue, "Take Bree down first, man."
"Yeah. She scares easily."
"Her safety comes first."
The woods turned black.
I could hear my own heart. I could hear every single one of them agreeing.
I looked up at Burke's face.
He stared at the ground, then at Bree.
I watched him make the choice.
Then he stood.
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