Crossing the Deep (14 page)

“No…” she gasped. “No way.”

“Yup, we’re stranded. Stuck. Cut off. And the kicker... The kicker is that no one was on the other side. No search party. Nothing. I didn’t see one person. How could David not have known about this? Huh? He’s the one who planned this stupid trip. How could he not know it was going to become a monsoon and flood our one way home? Why did he have to pick this trail of all trails? And why isn’t anyone looking for us?”

Asher paced faster with each question, wringing the cap in his hands.

“You found that next to the water? That doesn’t make any sense, Asher. Sid left way before the rain came. He should have been down long before then.”

“Then explain this, Rachel.” He threw the cap at her. “Explain why he left this behind.”

She flinched as the cap sailed out passed her and onto the concrete floor. There had to be some other explanation. “Maybe he took it off.”

“He wouldn’t do that!”

“Calm down. Okay, Asher.” She put her hands up to try to get him to stop yelling at her. “Did you see any sign of Sid?”

He shook his head, leaning back against the column opposite her. She was so thankful that he’d stopped pacing. “No. Just his pack and cap, which might as well have been his arm, because he never took it off. Never.”

“Maybe the wind got it?”

“And maybe monkeys flew out of my butt. Sorry if I can’t join you in Lala Land, Rachel.”

She didn’t know what to say. If something had happened to Sid, it was her fault. Her chest began to hurt, and it became harder to breathe. “May — maybe he got lost or something like we did?”

“Only he’s alone,” Asher said. “Not like us.”

A different idea clenched her heart, and she looked up at him with fear-filled eyes. “Did you say we can’t get out of here? We’re stuck?”

“Not unless you can walk on water. Who knows? Maybe you can get Jesus to do it for you,” he hissed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from her.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” she said as calmly as she could.

“He’s just gone.” He slid down the column until he hit the floor and leaned his head back on it.

“There could be a very good explanation for this.” She limped over and placed her hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

He slapped it away, making her jump. “A good explanation?” The red rims of his eyes made his irises seem much darker than their usual sky blue. “Yeah, there’s a good explanation. It’s called ‘Rachel can’t listen to a thing she’s told,’ and Sid’s missing because of it!”

Her fingers trembled. After everything they had shared, her heart broke. She knew it was petty to care about her hurt feelings with Sid missing, but she couldn’t help it. Asher hated her. Forcing the tears back, she knew she had to be strong for him. Asher needed her, even if he didn’t know it right then.

“No one is coming, Rachel,” Asher said like he had given up. “And we have no idea where Sid is.”

“God knows where he is.”

“And God knows where we are,” he said coldly, looking up at her. “Face it, Rachel. Your God has royally screwed us over.”

“You’re wrong,” she said as much for herself as him. “You’re wrong. God hasn’t screwed us over. God’s right here with us.”

“Where?” Asher asked, jumping up and throwing his arms out around. “Where is He, Rachel? Tell me! Because I sure don’t see Him!”

“This isn’t doing any good,” she said, trying to get him to understand. “We can walk to the other trail. Harrison’s Trail. Try to make it back to the main road by night. It can’t be that far.”

“Who says it’s not flooded too?”

“God will take care of us,” she said again. Maybe if she said it enough, she’d stop having doubts.

“Look at what a bang-up job He’s done so far. You’re hurt, can barely walk. Our way back home is gone, and our one rescuer has disappeared.”

“Hey,” she said, forcing herself up. She wanted to try to touch him again, but didn’t know if it would be such a good idea. “We have to have faith.”

His swollen eyes narrowed. “Faith? Really? Faith isn’t going to get you anywhere.” He stormed over to where she had been sitting. “And this,” he held up her Bible, “won’t get you anywhere either. It’s a fairy tale, Rachel. A stupid fairy tale told to little girls to make them keep their virginity and to wives to brainwash them into keeping their husbands happy. There’s nothing in here that’s real!” He took her Bible and walked outside of the building with it.

“What are you doing?” she yelled, limping over to the steps.

“The biggest favor of your life,” he said before throwing the book as far as he could across the fence and into the woods.

“No! No!” she scrambled out of the shelter, almost falling down the stairs. Ignoring the rain and her screaming ankle, she ran toward the woods. “How could you do that? How could you?”

He shrugged. “Pray to God. I’m sure He’ll get it back for you.”

“Jerk!” she screamed. She had never been so mad in her life. “You had no right! None.” All of the good feelings she had for him disappeared in that one moment as she limped through the mole hills and soaked grass toward the gate to get her Bible back.

Chapter Twelve

Asher watched her sad, pitiful attempt to get across the graveyard. With her ankle in the shape it was in and the deteriorating weather, he knew it would take forever to find her Bible.

“Leave it, Rachel!” he yelled. “You are better off without it. Trust me.”

If looks could kill, he’d be no better off than those people in the graves. “You do not get to tell me what to do.” She tripped but caught herself as the rain drenched her.

“I did you a favor,” he called after her, still trying to make her understand. If she thought she was going to get any kind of answers from a two-thousand-year-old book, then she was delusional. “It consumes you too much. It isn’t real, Rachel. The sooner you realize that the sooner…”

“The sooner what? The sooner I’ll be more like you? Sorry, but right now that doesn’t appeal to me.”

Her words bit. Part of him was sorry, truly sorry. He knew how much that little purple Bible meant to her, but hadn’t he owed her the truth? And if Rachel hated him, wouldn’t it be for the best when they got back to civilization? Win/win, right? “Come on, Rachel—”

“Why didn’t you get rid of your own Bible, Asher, if you hate them so much?” she yelled. She reached into the inside pocket of the coat she wore, pulled out Asher’s Bible, and held it up.

He had forgotten all about it. David had given it to him for reading material on the trip. Sid’s brother didn’t push, but he did give subtle hints on occasion.

No matter what, Asher had a point to make; a point that none of it mattered — not the Bible, or Christianity, or Jesus, or God. They were on their own, and God wasn’t there to help them.

“Fine.” He shrugged. He stomped to her, grabbed the little black book, and heaved it over the fence in the same direction he had thrown hers.

She glared at him coldly, and he knew that every good thought she had for him was gone.

Asher could hear her grunt with each step she took toward the gate. Still, he couldn’t give up. He’d started this, and he had every intention of finishing it. “Rachel, let it go! You’re just hurting yourself. Girl, it’s a stupid book full of crazy characters and outdated morals. It’s to make people feel guilty for acting human and to keep girls virgins until they marry. Let it go. Be free.”

She kept on walking. Her determination weakened his resolve a bit.

“Rachel, it can’t be that important!”

“My father gave it to me.”

“Then he can buy you another one.”

“He’s dead!” she screamed back at him.

Asher stared as she inched toward the gate, her words soaking in. He had known deep down there was some reason she had been so attached to that book, but it had never occurred to him that her father was the reason. And he had never even imagined that Rachel with her perfect little life and ideals didn’t have a father. Did he know her father was dead? Feeling guilty, he wondered how long he’d been gone, and why he didn’t remember it. They were in the same school, after all.

“Rachel, stop,” he said, running toward her. Once he got there, he reached for her arm.

She jerked it away. “Don’t touch me.” Rain mixed with tears streamed down her face. “You’ve made your point perfectly clear. Here I thought you were a nice guy. I actually
liked
you and I was stupid enough to think that you liked me, too. Obviously, I was wrong. You’re nothing more than a self-centered jerk! Now leave me alone and let me find my Bible.”

A slap would have hurt less. He blocked her way. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he was. He couldn’t do this to her, for her own good or not. It was too painful. “Look, I’m tired, and I’m scared.”

“I don’t care about your excuses,” she said, trying to get around him.

Not knowing what else to do, he caught her by the shoulders with a grip so firm that she couldn’t move if she wanted. He had to make her listen and understand. Leaning down, he waited until her gaze met his.

All of the affection he’d seen earlier in the day had gone. It had been what he wanted, right? Looking down at her, he missed her kind eyes and understanding heart more than anything. What had he done? “Rachel, go back to the shelter and rest your foot. I’ll go get your Bible.”

“I’d rather not, thank you.” She glared. “I don’t trust you.”

“And I don’t blame you, but your ankle can’t deal with this.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they weren’t as hard. “I want my Bible back,” she spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.

“I understand that. I’ll get it for you. Just go back to the shelter, and I’ll bring it to you.”

He could tell she didn’t like it, but she turned and went back toward the little gazebo. Asher frowned and headed out the gate to go search the woods.

****

Rachel didn’t want to go back, but her choices were slim and none. Her foot throbbed, and she needed to get off it. She was wet from head to toe. The mud had soaked her shoeless foot, and her toes felt like ice.

Didn’t mean she liked it though.

Once inside the shelter with nothing else to do, she pulled Sid’s backpack closer to her and examined its contents to see if he had anything they could use. She felt a bit like a vulture circling the dead, but wherever Sid had disappeared too, he wasn’t using his pack. Inside she found a few bags of chips, the same as the ones Asher had brought. Sid’s bag also had a change of clothes and a blanket. Now she and Asher wouldn’t have any excuse to share one. That thought might have hurt a few hours before but not now. Not with the childish way Asher had acted.

Around dark, she saw him coming back; her purple Bible was clutched in his hand. He climbed up the stairs and handed her the soggy book. She could tell by the way he looked at her that he was sorry and sane again.

“Thank you,” she managed. If she tried hard enough, she could maybe understand Asher’s actions. He was lost in the woods with the girl who’d gotten him that way, and his best friend was missing. Sure, it wasn’t the best or healthiest way to vent, but she understood. Didn’t mean she was ready to forgive — not yet.

“You didn’t get yours,” she noticed.

“Don’t need it.”

She wished she could get through to him somehow. Make him see how God was real and there — and no matter what, wouldn’t leave them. Given what had happened to him when he was nine, it would be hard, but she prayed God would give her the right words to say. This trip needed to matter somehow.

“We need a plan,” he said, sitting at her feet. “As much as I hate it, we won’t be able to make it down the mountain tonight. It’s already too dark. We're going to have to start out bright and early in the morning.”

“We? I’m going too? Thought you said, ‘You can’t walk,’” She said in her best Asher voice.

“I know what I said, and I know how I’ve acted. But you have to come with me. I have no idea how long it will take to get back to Harrison’s Trail or down it. It would be quicker, but I can’t leave you again.”

She looked at him, wondering what was going on inside his head. “Thought you didn’t care.”

“I never said that.”

“Asher…” What was she going to say? She leaned her head in her hand and took a deep breath. A dull headache formed right below the base of her neck, and she feared it would spread into a migraine.

“Rachel, listen. I don’t believe the stuff in that book.” He pointed to her soaked, more-than-likely ruined Bible. “I don’t believe that there is a God who loves me or cares for me. If He cared for me, He wouldn’t have let Jason do what he did to me and that other girl. But let’s say for argument’s sake that He is real. If He is real, He probably hates me.”

“He doesn’t…”

“Let me finish please. I don’t… I can’t believe in a loving God, but you do. And I should respect that and not try to take it away from you. I’m sorry for that. And I hope you can forgive me someday — truly forgive me.”

In Sunday School class she had been taught to forgive people as Jesus forgave her and she could, in theory, do that. It was easy to pray for the people in jail, for the kids at school who made fun of her, for the dictators who oppressed others in different parts of the world. She could forgive all of those people without hesitation. But when it came to something very personal, it was hard. One thing in life she couldn’t stand was a hypocrite, and she felt just like one.

It had been a long day, and they were no closer to getting off the mountain than they had been before. Only now they had a flooded creek and missing friend to deal with, too.

“Did Sid have anything in his pack?” he asked when Rachel didn’t say anything.

“Some chips, a blanket, and a change of clothes.”

“Better than I had.” Asher sat down a few feet away from her. She was grateful for that. That morning, she couldn’t get close enough to him. Now, she just needed her space to think.

He tossed her a bag of chips and filled her water bottle up with rain.

Eating in silence, her thoughts centered on how angry Asher had been. Truth be told, she was still angry herself. She prayed as hard as she could to let it go, to get over it. Sure, Asher had acted like a total and complete idiot, but he’d asked for forgiveness. He seemed genuinely sorry. She would forgive him in time, but she couldn’t promise the closeness they had shared earlier. That was asking too much.