A H.E.R.O.S PROJECT 12

19. Trail

Our journey starts on the walking trail.

I didn't know where the underground cellar was. It was dark when I went looking for Richie, and I wandered off the walking trail that winds in a large loop on the Matthews property. When Lou found me, she took me to Richie. Finding Richie was by luck.

But Richie memorized the cellar's location. He couldn't tell us how or why he remembered where it was. Richie just knew. That's one of the few things he remembered from Friday night. Unlike me, all of his memories didn't rally back. Richie doesn't recall finding the cellar or how he passed out. He remembered seeing boxes in that drafty room. And whatever was in those boxes would hopefully answer some of our questions.

"Are you okay, Yaya? You're walking slower," Tristian inquires. I hadn't realized I was falling behind the group. I look behind me and fast walk to Tristian.

"I don't know," I say because something didn't feel right, and I didn't want to tell her.

Since I stepped out of Tristian's car, I felt this strange overbearing weight standing over me, watching me. I'm not sure what it is, fear? Nervousness? Terror? Walking on the trail, under these trees, and breathing this air bothered me.

I snap my head back and look behind me. Nothing's there.

I didn't feel this way on Friday. I should have because it was dark, I was alone, and something terrible could have happened. Someone could have gotten to me. But this, this feeling I have churning my stomach, slithering up my spine, pressure mounting on my head and shoulders—I hate to admit it, but I want to leave.

Tristian gently touches my forehead with the back of her hand. "You feel cool." Tristian doesn't hesitate to say, "We can go back home. You don't have to do this." She thinks harder, "If you want, I'll carry you back to the house, and I'll go back to your brother and watch him. I can do it for you."

Richie croons his head to look back at me. He's listening.

I feel a single sweat bead run down the middle of my forehead to my brow. I quickly wipe it away, wiping a collection of sweat forming at my headline. "I'm fine. I can keep going." I want to leave, though.

It would be dumb to assume that Richie and I were alone in all of this, and that very thought is why I don't run. Richie hasn't brought it up. I had ignored the prospect of it. That someone else was in the woods with us on Friday. Whoever it was, whatever it might be, is probably not gone. It could have left, but I'm sure it will be back.

I keep walking forward.

"Be vigilant," Richie advises as we walk deeper into the woods.

Our walking formation modulates. Tristian takes the lead, walking in front. Dougie protests until Tristian tells him to watch her back. Richie comes to my right, directing Tristian on where to go. Lee has Lou by her leash, and he lets her guide his steps, flanking my left. Dougie slowly strides as he takes in the woods, studying the trees, high and low. His gaze shifts everywhere, and lastly, to me.

We briefly stare at each other, and then his gaze darts to a tree branch.

I wanted to say it aloud, but I thought I would look dumb for stating the obvious. It's too quiet in the woods. No birds chirped. I haven't seen a squirrel frolicking on the tree branches or running on the ground. The always-present sound of chirping crickets is nonexistent. The air smells of ammonia. It's a funny smell that irritates my nose and throat and waters my eyes if I inhale it for too long.

We all stare at Tristian, waiting for her to make a move. To tell us what to do. We relied on her more than ever because she is the strongest and her instincts are the keenest. If she said stop or wait or we were leaving, we would listen to her despite how much Richie disliked her.