“Well, okay, good point,” Ailey said. “Like, where would we be without civil rights people saying fuck the whites-only nonsense. But I don’t think humans should be able to take whatever they can. We have an unfair advantage.”
“What makes it unfair?” May said.
“I don’t know. Intelligence? Tools?”
Elizabeth said, “Octopuses use tools but they don’t fuck up the ocean.”
“I don’t know, then, but it’s something.”
“Just because we can get by in a place,” May said, “doesn’t mean we should shit all over it. But I hate the idea of not being allowed. Who gets to decide? Usually it’s men.” She spread her arms. “And we’re doing fine here, aren’t we? How many dudes told you it wasn’t safe for a bunch of girls to go out into the woods alone?”
Piper laughed. “Uh, my boyfriend and his roommate.”
“My dad,” Elizabeth said. “Never mind that he’s known Ailey for years and she does this shit all the time.”
Ailey said, “The first time I went camping with a couple girls from Mountaineers, my mom was like, ‘You’re probably in more danger at a frat party than in the woods. Call me when you’re home.’”
“So we’re agreed,” May said. “Telling people they can’t do something just because someone else thinks they shouldn’t is bullshit. And men suck.”
“Dicks,” Elizabeth said.
Ailey lifted her water bottle in acknowledgement. “Dicks,” she agreed.
May woke feeling like bees were swarming in her head She was so tired her face hurt. Something had woken her, and she tried to decide if she cared what it was.
“Shit,” Ailey said, outside the tent.
Through her sleeping pad May felt the ground hard beneath her hip. Exhaustion squeezed her skull. Next to her, Piper finally slept.
Sticks clattered.
May rubbed her face, sighed. The sound of zippers—sleeping bag, then tent—grated against the quiet morning, the river-roar and muted chip-chip-trill of birds. The air outside was cool and thick with moisture. She paused to pull on her boots. The way blood rushed to her head when she finally stood made her irritable.
She squinted. “Who made the mess?”
Ailey had a handful of firewood. The rest of it was scattered over and around their campsite, an explosion of branches and twigs. It looked like a game of pick-up sticks for forest giants. Something must have hit their firewood pile hard to send it flying so dramatically.
Ailey looked pained. “The wind?” she said. “I don’t know.”
“It didn’t seem windy,” May said. “I didn’t hear anything. I was up most of the night, so.”
Ailey lifted a forked, scaly branch from inside the stone ring of their firepit. “Trouble sleeping?”
“Piper,” May said quietly. Ailey made an apologetic grimace.
The two of them gathered the scattered wood. It seemed like more than could possibly have been left over from the night before. The pile nearly reached May’s knees.
Piper rustled and groaned inside her tent. “She got up a lot,” May said to Ailey.
“Shit. I hope she’s not too tired to hike.”
Piper looked fine, though disheveled, once she was sitting by the firepit. Ailey dismissed the idea of making a fire for breakfast—she’d brought a camp stove to heat water for coffee and oatmeal—but even the memory of fire was enough to draw them close. Without discussing it, Ailey and May had kept to themselves the strange disarray they’d woken to.
Piper took a cup of coffee and held it, not drinking. “I think I ate something weird,” she said. “I’m okay now, or better than last night, at least.”
“I bet it was the diner yesterday morning,” Ailey said.
“My money is on the entire pound of turkey jerky she ate,” May said.
“Sweet, sweet sodium,” Piper said. “It’s my weakness, okay? I have a problem. But I learned my lesson. I’m clean now. Cold turkey.”
“Boo, pun,” Ailey said. May hissed. Piper made a little bow.
“Someone made a pun?” Elizabeth said from inside her closed tent. “Before breakfast? Jesus Christ almighty.”
“Get up,” Ailey said, “There’s coffee.”
“Coffee,” Elizabeth repeated, voice rough with lust.
Around the unlit fire they ate packet oatmeal and handfuls of dried fruit. Piper didn’t eat, just held her cup stared dozily into it.
“I want to get going pretty quick,” Ailey said.
Piper wedged her full cup into the dirt. “Dammit,” she muttered. She scurried into the bushes, pulling a packet of tissue from one pocket as she disappeared.
Elizabeth watched her go, face scrunched. “What’s up?”
“I think she’s sick,” May said.
“Ooh. Bad luck.”
Ailey packed the cooking gear. When Piper came back, Ailey said, “Are you going to be okay?”
Piper flopped to the ground. “I dunno. Yesterday I was like, I’ve never pooped in the woods, this is going to be such a new and exciting and terrible thing, I wonder if I’ll be able to even do it. And now pooping in the woods is like”—she gestured absently—“oh, that again? I’m a pro.”
“Do you feel okay? Can you hike?”
Piper closed her eyes. The morning sun through the trees dappled her shoulders. “I’m so tired.”
“Should we go back?” Ailey said. Her voice was tight.
Piper shook her head without opening her eyes. “I’ll just stay here,” she said. “Forever.”
They were all quiet for a moment. May felt everyone else’s tension in her own skin. “What about,” she suggested, “if we hike around today and come back here tonight to camp?”
Ailey’s jaw was set. It was clear—anyone who knew her would know—that she didn’t want to deviate from the plan. But Piper looked miserable. May couldn’t imagine forcing her to keep going.
“At least we wouldn’t have to go home early,” Elizabeth said quietly, to Ailey.
“And hey,” May added, “we can leave our tents and crap with Piper, so we won’t have to carry as much.”
“Base camp,” Elizabeth said.
“I like that idea,” Piper said. “I like the idea of not moving.”
Ailey looked thoughtful.
“Wait.” Piper opened her eyes. “I’ll be here alone?”
“Don’t worry, Pip,” Elizabeth said. “Nothing bad ever happens in the woods during daylight.”
She was wrong; bad things happened. Early in the day May tripped and landed hard, tearing her shirt and badly skinning her palms. Then Elizabeth dropped her digital camera into the river, and though it wasn’t expensive it also hadn’t been backed up for months. Ailey’s GPS was unpredictable. It worked well enough to get them where they were going, but it put Ailey in a crap mood. It was hot, and biting flies followed them, and they had to stop frequently for water and to catch their breath. They were headed to a waterfall, something dramatic, but the easier route Ailey had originally planned would have taken too long. So they were going the steep way, and would make it back to Piper before sunset.
When they got to the waterfall, Elizabeth and May made a bigger fuss over it than it deserved. Elizabeth made them pose for a picture she took with an imaginary camera, and then she threw the imaginary camera in the river. They sat on a rock and ate a late power bar–and–string cheese lunch.
At least the hike back was downhill.
They followed a ridge arcing away from the river. Gaps between branches showed glimpses of a valley tumbled with boulders. Wind hassled the pines.
“What’s that?” Elizabeth said. Her brow was furrowed; she looked out and down through a clear spot on the side of the ravine. “Is there a road down there or something? I think I hear an engine.”