“I was looking for help,” said Bullfrog.

“I don’t know,” said Mara. “You seem to like being gone.”

There was a crash, a flash of light; Bullfrog had thrown his bottle against a rock. He stood there breathing hard. “I was looking for help,” he said again.

“Fine,” said Mara. “You want to look for help? You want to walk in the river? Go walk in the fucking river. We’ll be on land.”

Bullfrog stared at her. Then he turned and surged forward, water splashing behind him, until he’d rounded a bend out of sight.

It was suddenly quiet. The sparkling river, the blue sky. As if Bullfrog, the mirage, had simply vanished. As if he’d never been there at all.

27

The water was cold again. Mara had forgotten it, for a while. But now her feet ached. She was afraid to look at Ashley, and then she did, and Ashley was looking back at her, standing downstream in the dappled sunlight. The water was clear, and she saw the bottom: rocks the size of fists, skulls.

Ashley waded upstream and came to Mara, and together they climbed up the bank. They sat on a damp log. It was half-rotten and gave with their weight.

“I didn’t mean it,” said Mara. “I didn’t think he’d go.”

“I know.”

“It was his choice. I didn’t make him, right?”

“He probably feels stupid,” said Ashley. “For throwing a bottle.”

“He should. He’s too fucking stubborn. He needs to cool down.”

Ashley didn’t answer.

“We can’t get hurt again,” said Mara.

“I know.”

“I got scared.”

“I know.”

“It was too slippery,” said Mara. The river. Wasn’t it?

She wondered if Bullfrog resented them. If he had the whole time. Without Ashley and Mara and Kyle, he could have walked and kept walking. He might have gotten out, if he hadn’t kept coming back. Coming back to bring supplies, and to shoot a bear. Without him she might have died. Without them, he might have gotten to safety. Was that true? Maybe; maybe not. But did he believe it?

“He’ll be back,” said Ashley.

They sank onto the ground to wait. Somewhere nearby, a woodpecker drilled at a tree trunk. Drilling trees sounded like a lot of work.

After a few hours, with no sign of Bullfrog, Mara built a fire. Bullfrog had the flashlight and the iodine drops. The women had the pot. They boiled water, drank most of it, and boiled some more. Then Ashley lay down, and Mara lay behind her, fitting her body like a shell.

How strange that they had once been five. Then four, then three. Then two.

No, they were still three.

“He must be waiting for us,” said Ashley. “Up ahead. He probably thought we’d follow.”

“Yeah,” said Mara. She felt numb. “He just needed some time, maybe. We’ll sleep here and catch up in the morning.”

“He’ll be waiting.”

“I know.”

But Mara couldn’t sleep. The darkness crackled and shifted around her. As if creatures swung through the shadows, just out of sight. Waiting for her to close her eyes. She held Ashley tight, glad not to have the flashlight. It would be too tempting to use. And what would she see in the instant she flicked it on, breaking the comfort of darkness? She pictured monstrous faces, inches from her own. Eyes glowing in the trees. It was better not to know.