I look out over the range above and before us. I see where we need to go, but I don’t see how to get there.
“Look over there.” Paul points.
I look. I see a sea of trees and some hills and then a deep gully separating our peak from the higher peaks.
“I don’t see what you are looking at,” I say.
He comes and holds my arm, pointing it toward a speck on the horizon. “There,” he says, guiding my hand with his.
I realize that he is pointing down. Down into the next valley, then up.
“All the way down?” I say.
“No, see there,” he says. “There’s a natural bridge connecting the two peaks. It could be dangerous, but I feel like it’s our best shot.”
“How far is that?”
“I don’t know. Should take us a day or so to get there.”
I have no idea if he’s kidding. I’m trying to imagine how we’ll ever be found. Maybe twenty years from now, the wreckage will be located and our bodies found frozen under ten feet of snow. Actually, that’s unlikely, because the bears will never let us sit that long once they wake up in the spring. We’ll be tasty morsels once the snow melts.
“Down and up again,” I say.
“Yes,” he says. “On the upside, no cliffs to climb.”
“And the weather, let’s be thankful for that.”
“That’s the spirit, Solis. Yes, the weather is almost a balmy zero degrees today.”
You couldn’t really see it from where we stood, but somewhere off in the distance, the sun must be shining brightly behind the mountains. We are still under a canopy of tall trees, but the air is warmer. I do feel hopeful.
“I’m guessing it’ll take us the day to get down and another day to get back up. Once there, if the weather holds, we’ll try to start a fire.”
“What will we eat?” I ask.
He looks at me strangely, and then he says, “I’m more worried about what we’ll talk about. We can go without food for days; plus we’ve still got some candy. We’ve got water, too. But after our conversation last night, I fear there’s nothing left to confess.”
“Really, that’s your fear? Running out of confessions?”
“I’m afraid so.”
He looks around at our stuff and he starts feeling his jacket and checking his pockets.
“What are you looking for?”
He looks at his bag and my things.
He’s starting to panic me, so I ask again. “What’s missing?”
“My book,” he finally says.
“Your book, it’s in there,” I say, pointing at the sleeping bag on his back.
There’s a long pause between us and he’s looking at me, reading my body language. I’m covered head to toe in jackets, sunglasses, gloves, and a hat, so I can’t imagine there’s much to read.
“Did you read the letter?” he snaps.
“No,” I say. It is reflexive, but I immediately regret lying.
“Really?” he says skeptically.
“I started it. I’m sorry.”
“Right. You didn’t inhale all the way either,” he says with a smirk. “Why do you lie so much? Why would you read something so personal without asking?”
“What? I wasn’t thinking. It was before I knew you. I mean, knew you like I know you now.”
“Never mind, Solis, let’s go.”