Chapter 27
A Shove in the Dark

As the car climbed higher up Mount Lemmon, the cacti gave way to deciduous pine trees, and the air thinned. The road curved up the rocky slope, offering stunning views of sparkling Tucson below.

“How much higher are we going?” Charlotte asked as they passed yet another camping spot. Several campers were parked in the lot, and a family was cooking burgers on one of the public barbecue grills.

“A little higher still,” Gabby said, leaning forward between the seats.

Finally, after they passed three more scenic lookouts and made two wrong turns that forced them to reverse back down the mountain, Gabby screeched, “There it is!”

Madeline pulled the car into a flat gravel lot. A tiny wooden sign read CAMPING. Another was marked TRAILS, and a third warned WATCH FOR RATTLESNAKES.

The girls got out and unloaded the gear from the backseat. They’d climbed several thousand feet in elevation, and the air was sharp and cold. Goose bumps rose on Emma’s skin. Gabby slipped out of her toga and changed into jeans and a hoodie, and the other girls did the same.

“We should probably put on sneakers, too,” Gabby instructed, pulling a pair of Nikes from her bag. “The springs are about a mile hike from here.”

“We’re going to hike in the dark?” Emma blurted. She could barely see the scrubby trail that wound into the desert. A whistling, lonely wind blew tumbleweeds across the parking lot.

“That’s what flashlights are for.” Gabby pulled out a long, silver Maglite, heavy enough to bash someone’s head in. When she switched the knob to the on position, nothing happened. “Huh.”

Madeline and Charlotte had flashlights, too, but only one of them worked, spewing a weak, pale yellow beam onto the trail before them. “This seems like a bad idea,” Emma said, her heart beating furiously. “Maybe we should come back another time.”

Gabby hefted her backpack onto her shoulders. “Is Sutton Mercer . . . afraid?”

Emma gritted her teeth. Laurel looped her arm through Emma’s. “It’ll be fine,” she said. “Promise.”

“Let’s go.” Gabby’s shoes made a crunching sound on the gravel as she marched toward the trailhead. Madeline pulled something out of her backpack. A flash of chrome glinted in the moonlight, and there was a sloshing sound of liquid hitting the sides of a bottle. “Here,” she whispered, handing the flask to Emma. “Liquid courage.”