Lost at Running Brook Trail Read Online Free PDF

Miriam’s face.
    Elaine, who had seen enough, stood over them and with great effort pulled Miriam away. Miriam didn’t want to let go, and Elaine had to summon all her strength to accomplish this. Miriam was finally dragged away, one button from Kimberly’s blouse in her clawing hands. Kimberly lay on the ground panting and recovering her breath, her blonde hair now streaked with dust.
    “Why’d you pull me off her?” Miriam turned to Elaine with anger blazing in her eyes.
    “We all need our strength and senses to continue this hike and find the others. It’s futile to waste energy on a fight.”
    “I wanted to break her neck.”
    “I can tell, but we’re not going to get anywhere with her dead.”
    They started on the trail they had chosen, not sure it was the right one but taking a chance.
     
     

Gravelled Road  
    The path turned sharply right onto a wide gravel trail that followed a creek. The sounds of the gurgling water over rocks that would once have been soothing now sounded ominous. They came to a stop and listened intently, hearing only the irregular, broken sounds of water.
    “Hello,” Miriam shouted at the top of her lungs, her face turned up to the sky. Her voice seemed to be washed away in the vastness of the Albertan sky, air and looming mountains. “Can anybody hear me?” she shouted again with the same results.
    “Maybe we should call out together for a stronger effect,” Miriam said.
    “Hello!” they shouted together, with the exception of Kimberly, who stared at the creek.
    “Kimberly,” Elaine said, “why aren’t you helping?”
    “Nobody’s answering, and why don’t we find our way back to civilization by ourselves?”
    Miriam laughed mirthlessly. She really had to control herself because Kimberly was getting on her last nerve. She didn’t know how she was going to survive this and keep her sanity at the same time.
    “We had a guide because we don’t know where we are and where we are going.” The sun was scorching, and Kimberly’s response was also getting to Elaine. “Do you see the number of trails out here?”
    Kimberly wondered why they were bothering her. How hard could it be to get out of these backwoods and get some means of help? All they had to do was pick a trail and follow it; they all led to some destination.
    Elaine took one of her water bottles from her bag and drank most of the water. With the heat she might just faint from dehydration. Good thing they were by this creek.
    “I’m going down to fill my water bottles.” Elaine began to navigate the embankment, holding on to shrubs to ensure her footing. Miriam followed; they didn’t know when they would see water again. Soon Kimberly was by the side of the creek too, with only Susan still standing on the gravel road, looking down at the other three. Analyzing the incline, she didn’t want to expend all that energy to get down there.
    A poem from English class, thought to have been written in the 1800s, popped into her head. Without knowing why, she began to recite it.
    “Down by the water we go
    Everything we do is a show.
    Hold my hand so you can understand
    that we have no master plan.”
    The writer was anonymous. Who would write something like this and not leave a name? The poem’s alive but the writer’s dead and obscure.
    Elaine, hearing Susan’s recitation, looked up from filling her water bottle. She knew the second and the third verse. It was a poem they all had learned perhaps two years ago.
    “Are you coming down?” Elaine broke into Susan’s thoughts.
    Susan was contemplating the second verse. Again she looked down with disinclination.
    Miriam, mistaking Susan’s aversion for fear of falling, called out, “It’s not that steep.”
    Kimberly stared at her reflection in the water, turning this way and that but still unable to make out anything significant but a jagged, ill-formed silhouette.
    “It’s okay; I’ll wait on you guys to get back up.” Susan sat on the edge of the