Chapter Text
They've reached the point where Max's playlist loops for what feels like the fiftieth time, and where Laura tells herself she's about to jump out of this moving car if she has to endure one more song by Ariana Grande. They’d left the last gas station behind hours ago and the last city even earlier. Since then, it's been just the two of them. The two of them and the full moon above them, which, together with the cone-shaped beams of light from the car's headlights, immerses the world around them in a pale, almost unreal atmosphere.
As a matter of fact, Laura is irritated. And tired. She wants to stretch her legs, but in the middle of the night on some highway in the middle of nowhere, when there's nothing but forest and darkness around her, that would be a damn silly idea. She knows that - and it only makes her more cranky.
And besides, an hour and a half ago she’d already reached the moment of needing to pee really badly.
Max doesn't notice any of this, he looks ahead and sometimes hums along to the songs, and Laura wonders if her boyfriend is just blessed - or punished - with too much optimism, or if this is that case of "men can only accomplish one thing at a time, and multitasking is just as impossible for them as finding the clitoris."
...to be fair, she did teach him the latter at some point. They still have to work on the former.
With a soft sigh on her lips, she leans forward and turns off the music.
Ariana falls silent and Max blinks, then frowns and turns his head in her direction with a carefree smile. "What's up?" he asks, and when he finally interprets the expression on her face correctly, he raises his brows. "What's wrong, baby?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Since Max only blinks and tilts his head like a golden retriever, she sighs again and pats his thigh. "Pull over."
"Why?"
"Because I want to look at the map in the back seat and find out where we are."
Max scoffs. "We know where we are."
"We're absolutely lost."
"Nonsense."
"Why is it so hard for men to admit they're lost?"
"Because we didn't get lost." He takes one hand off the steering wheel and points into the darkness of the endless road. "We're on the right track."
"You know that because?"
"Because this is the only way here! Laura, please, It's, like, really hard to take a wrong turn if the only way is straight ahead!"
He's right. Sort of. But it's late and Laura is tired and her bladder is desperate for a shortcut. She doesn't feel like arguing. And she absolutely can't stand having to ask for something more than once. So she loosens her seatbelt and bends backwards between the seats to the small bag in which she has stowed the camp's map and pamphlet. She can feel Max's gaze on her ass. "Eyes on the road, Max," she warns, rolling her eyes with a tired smile.
"Can't ever have any fun around here." Max chuckles, and when she makes it back to her seat and traces the roads with her index finger, he says, "That's kind of cute."
"Hmm?"
"The way you pretend to read maps."
She blinks and lifts her head. "Um, Max? I can read maps? Don't tell me you can't?"
"Aw come on, no need to pretend. It's an old people thing, nobody can do that these days. That's what we have cell phones for."
"That don't work in the middle of nowhere, right?" Laura frowns. "I'll have you know I was in the Girl Scouts."
Max wiggles his eyebrows. "I've always been a fan of women in uniform."
"Max!" Laura grimaces. "I was twelve!"
At that, Max also makes a face and clears his throat. "I retract my statement." Again, his eyes wander toward her instead of the road. "Okay, and now you tell me why you're being such a bitch."
"I'm not-" Okay, she is. She realizes she's raising her voice. It's obvious that she is stressed. And even she knows that Max isn't really to blame for any of this - he's not to blame for anything except for probably having gotten lost. So she sighs and sinks deeper into the seat, her fingers clutching the map. "Look, we've been driving for most of the day. It's almost midnight. I'm tired, I'm worried we're entirely lost, and by now I also really need to pee. So sorry I'm not all that happy anymore."
"Babe, you could have just told me. I can just pull over quickly and you walk two feet into the woods and-"
"And then a wolf comes and eats me, no thanks."
"I don't think there are any wolves here." Max shrugs. "Maybe bears. But no wolves."
"In any case, I'm not taking that kind of risk. I mean, what would you do if a wolf actually jumped in front of our car right now?"
"It's obvious: I'd lock the doors and stay here."
Laura rolls her eyes. "You really are a hero."
"Laura. Babe. Honey. Just because I'm not oiling myself up and dancing with a wolf to prove my masculinity-"
"Oh, come on, I never said that."
"Your luck, because that's a three hour movie with Kevin Costner, and I'd hate to recreate it."
"Four."
"Huh?"
"The international version is four hours long."
Max blinks and frowns. Then he gives her a mischievous look. "Didn't know I was dating a nerd."
"Nah, my mom was always a fan of the guy, and I was stuck with watching stuff with her." But admittedly - she'd rather have four hours of Kevin Costner than four hours of Ariana Grande.
"So being a nerd was sort of handed down to you. That's good, I think it's sweet, you don't have to be ashamed of it at all. Hey, speaking of being ashamed."
"Whatever you say now, I know I'll hate it."
"Regarding your pee problem..."
"I'm going to hate it immensely. Don't even say another word. Isn't there any way a wolf can please show up and save me from this conversation?"
"Oh, come on, I'm just saying." Max grins. Laura knows he's about to say something really stupid. Max grins wider. "You know I can be a thirsty little flower sometimes."
"Max!" Laura punches him in the shoulder and throws the map at him. With a shake of her head, she bursts out laughing in disbelief. "Are you for fucking real? You're so gross!"
"Maybe. But you’re laughing. And that's the only thing that matters to me."
Laura bends down to pick up the map again, which has fallen between the seats, and unfolds it. The paper crackles under her fingers. "And that's why you're digging up a hundred-year-old meme?"
"It's not that old..."
"Fifty, then."
Now Max is the one rolling his eyes. "You're being stupid on purpose. The meme is from Tumblr."
"Doesn't make it better. Now if you start babbling something about shoelaces, I'm getting out of this car to try my luck with the wolves. Maybe I'll be dead, but at least I'll be free of your cringe." Before Max can say anything else and drag out their bickering, Laura taps a spot on the map with a smile. "Hey, there should be a crossroad coming up in a minute. Turn left there."
_
She feels nearly sick with relief when they finally reach first the sign in the direction of Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp and then the actual campgrounds. ... or maybe it's just that hunger and exhaustion have caught up with her, that's also possible.
She jumps out of the car as soon as they've pulled into the parking lot and closes the door behind her. Her gaze wanders over the dark lodge and the single car in front of the entrance. With quick steps, she hurries up the stairs to the front door, searching in vain for a doorbell at first before finally giving up and knocking on the door. Once. Twice. And then, with a growing uneasy feeling in her stomach, a third time.
In the meantime, Max has also gotten out and looks up at her (she feels his piercing gaze in her back). "Doesn't exactly look like anyone's waiting for us."
Laura bites her lower lip and knocks again.
"Laura?" Max's footsteps on the sandy ground gradually draw closer. "Are you sure he knows we're coming today already?"
"What, oh yeah, sure, I told him!"
"Okay... and what did he say about that?"
"Well, you know..." She turns and looks down at Max, shrugging her shoulders. "Nothing much?"
"Nothing much? Why not?" There's a brief pause, then it hits him, too. "Oh for fuck's sake. You sent him a voicemail."
"Well..."
Max runs a hand through his hair. In the dark, Laura can't see his face, but she doesn't need to - she knows that his mouth is open in disbelief. "We went all the way out here a day earlier, only to be left standing in front of a closed door?"
"Max..."
"Shit, Laura, do you know how much I had to bust my ass to be able to leave today already? My ma actually wanted me to get so much done around the house and-"
"Max, I know."
"Do you know how much nagging I had to live through?"
She sighs. She knows. All too well. Max's parents are difficult. Her own parents, too, of course - and she is not the one whining right now! Like, for real: What parents wouldn't be a pain in the ass if their kid wanted to leave for summer camp for two months?
Okay, that's not entirely fair, and it's perhaps a little too easily presented. Max's parents are serious, conventional, and downright devout Catholics. They've both been lucky to be allowed to even date without Max's dad poking his head into the room every five minutes to check that their hands are staying above the covers and not wandering downwards until the wedding. That's why she can imagine all too well how much he had to beg to be allowed to leave the day before they were supposed to... she is really grateful for that.
She slowly descends the stairs again to gently give him a hug. He tenses under her touch, but doesn't push her away, and his almost hysterically hyperventilating ranting also very slowly dies down, and so Laura carefully kisses his cheek. "Don't be mad, okay? We wanted to have the two best months of our lives."
"Yeah, well, they're currently a contender for the worst day of mine so far."
"Max!" She gives him a little squeeze. "Let's just... wait a bit, okay? Mr. Hackett's car is here, he must be close, too."
"Okay," Max finally says softly, lowering his hands. Very slowly, he relaxes into her caress, and when he finally turns to her, she can see the exhaustion in his eyes. No wonder, he's been doing all the driving. No doubt he was looking forward to a soft bed and maybe a warm meal, too. "Let's wait in the car. If we have to, we'll put the seats back to lie down. I packed extra blankets and-"
An inhuman sound interrupts him mid-sentence, sending them both spinning around. A scream - it was definitely a scream! But not a human one, right? Because no human could sound like that. So full of pain and despair...
"Did you hear that?" Max asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Laura nods slowly, not taking her eyes off the gloom of the forest. The trees seem like they're inviting her to find out their terrible secret.
"It must have been an animal," Max continues to whisper. "Maybe a deer or a dog or- Laura? What are you doing?"
But Laura is no longer listening to him. Because Laura is already running without thinking. Her legs move as if by themselves, carrying her into the invitingly dangerous depths of the woods.
Behind her, she hears Max's heavy footsteps, hears him calling for her again and again, loud and frightened and full of worry, but Laura can only think of the animal that has just screamed in agony.
Someone has to help it.
Someone has to... put it out of its misery.
She jumps over a large stone and climbs over a fallen tree trunk. The wood under her fingers is parched. It hasn't rained in a long time. The air around her is crushingly hot, especially now, after having sat in an air-conditioned car all day.
Again she hears the sound, the screech that runs through her core, and she grits her teeth as she urges her legs to run. A drop of sweat trickles into her eyes, taking away her vision for a moment.
Her foot meets resistance. And then there's just nothing but a sense of zero gravity for a few seconds as she trips over a root sticking out of the ground and falls. She wants to curse, but she slams into the ground face-first, and the impact takes her breath away, leaving her speechless.
Behind her, she hears footsteps, and finally Max catches up with her, wheezing for air. He calls her name while rushing to her side. His hands clasp her hips as he gently pulls her to her feet. "Shit, Laura," he blurts out gasping, "what do you think you're doing?"
She feels light-headed. The impact causes an ache to shoot through her left foot. Her jaw feels like it's been given a mean right hook. "I just... I just wanted..." She clings to Max's shoulders and looks at him pleadingly. "We need to help it!"
"We don't even know where it is, Laura." Max sighs and turns his head in all directions. "It all looks the same here. We'll be lucky if we get back to the lodge."
"Bullshit, we just walked straight ahead."
"Yeah, and yet the whole place looks exactly the same. It's night. It's dark. Laura, be reasonable."
"But it's out there, Max! It's all alone! It's suffering!"
"Yes, and whatever is making it suffer might just come after us for interrupting its dinner-time."
He's right. Of course he's right. ...she hates that he's right. At least about this particular thing. Usually she doesn't have too much of a problem with it. But now... now he's right and she hates it, but she doesn't really have a choice.
However, as they walk back to the lodge - or rather limp in Laura's case - she can't think of anything but the animal that must now die in agony, lonely and alone.
...and that's all just because they're both fucking cowards.
It takes several long minutes for them to reach the lodge again, as Laura relies heavily on Max to avoid straining her foot. Stupid, she chides herself. This was just stupid She shouldn't have just run off like that. She should have at least gotten her phone out of the car to use it as a flashlight.
Instead, a sharp pain jolts through her now, every time she tries to put any weight onto her left foot.
A great start to the best two months of your life.
"Hey," Max says then, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Hey, look. There's someone standing by our car."
There sure is. There's a man pacing around their car, his hands on his hips. As they get closer, he lifts his head and looks in her direction.
"You think that's Mr. Hackett?" Max asks quietly.
Either that, or there's a maniac running around here wearing khaki shorts. "I hope so," Laura replies just as quietly. "I'm not in the mood for another nasty surprise right now."
The man in front of them actually introduces himself as Chris Hackett. ...after he's done yelling at them. Rightfully so, to be honest. "What the hell were you guys thinking, wandering around here in the middle of the night? What were you even doing here? This is private property!"
"We're with the counselors," Max explains sheepishly, introducing first himself and then Laura. "We... my girlfriend had left you a voicemail saying we were coming as early as today."
Mr. Hackett stares at them both as if they'd just grown a second head. "And instead of waiting to see if I'd answer you, you just drive off like that? What if I hadn't been around at all?"
"Then I guess we'd both be sleeping in the car right now, feeling pretty stupid," Laura mutters, continuing to lean on Max.
"With that foot?" Mr. Hackett nods in her direction. "Wouldn't have been fun." He leads them both to a ground-floor entrance and searches his pockets for the key. Only now does Laura notice how much he's sweating. Like he's been running a marathon. "What did you do, anyway? Tripped over a root?"
She nods slowly, but immediately feels the need to explain herself. "We heard an animal scream."
Mr. Hackett freezes in motion for a moment before pulling a set of keys from his pants pocket to unlock the door. "This is a forest," he says, pushing the door open. "There's always some kind of animal screaming here."
Yes, but not like this.
He helps Max maneuver Laura onto a sofa and sighs. "You should put some ice on that foot. There's plenty of ice packs in the fridge." Then he nods and suddenly seems incredibly tired. No wonder - it's past midnight by now. "Tonight you can sleep here, and tomorrow, when the others have arrived, we'll take your bags to the barracks."
"Thanks," they both mutter, and as Mr. Hackett waves goodbye to them, their eyes soon fall shut, too.
Laura dreams of the dark forest with all its dangers, of dying deer and bears devouring the entrails of the animals they have killed.
_
In retrospect, she's not sure if it's her nightmares that woke her up or the noises.
It's just after dawn and Max is asleep on the second sofa. He snores like a lumberjack. Laura can see the first rays of sunlight through the window. There are birds chirping.
At first glance, everything seems normal.
She blinks. But there was something... Maybe it was just her imagination... Maybe her dreams are too vivid. Maybe...
No. Wait! There it is again!
The creak of a wooden door. Floorboards bending under footsteps.
Someone is in the lodge!
Mr. Hackett, perhaps? Did he want to check on them? ...not this early, surely. It can't be the other counselors either, because Mr. Hackett said they probably wouldn't arrive until around noon.
A burglar?
A bear?
Briefly, she looks at Max, sleeping the sleep of the righteous, and considers waking him. She changes her mind, though; Max has already been through too much yesterday, and if she's wrong now, if there's nothing at all with them at the lodge, Max will be mad at her all day.
The best two months of your life, Laura thinks grimly, forcing herself to stand without putting too much strain on her foot. By now her ankle is swollen, the ice pack has slipped off the sofa onto the floor during the night, and she has to brace herself against the walls as she half-hops, half-pushes her way to the kitchen.
To where the noise just came from.
If it's a bear, she decides, I'll scream and hope Max wakes up. Then it occurs to her that Max is hard to wake up once he's fully asleep, and, since she's already halfway across the main room, she resolves to arm herself with the fire poker hanging next to the run-down fireplace that surely hasn't seen a flame in months. Maybe she'd use it to drive the bear away.
Or maybe this will be the shortest two months of my life.
She cautiously slides around the corner and sees - not a bear. But a man. A man that isn't Mr. Hackett. A different man. A stranger.
A stranger emptying the fridge as if he hasn't seen a kitchen from the inside in weeks.
Laura raises the poker. "Don't move!"
Of course the man moves. He winces and drops everything he's holding - three apples, a bottle of soda, an opened package of cookies, a block of cheese. When he turns his gaze in her direction, Laura looks into dark eyes that seem almost black. Just as black as his wet, short hair.
Wait, what?
He stands upright (he towers over Laura by a little more than a head and a half), and only now she sees his clothes are soaking wet, too, and a puddle has formed at his feet. "Who are you?" he asks in a voice that's slightly more high-pitched than she would have expected from a man like him.
"I could ask you the same."
"Yeah, but I asked first!"
"Yeah," Laura says, "but I'm the one with the poker." To punctuate her words, she raises it a little.
The man looks from the metal to her face and then lower, raising an eyebrow. Only now does Laura really realize that she's standing in front of him in her top and panties, but his gaze doesn't even graze her bare body, as if it makes him uncomfortable. Instead, his eyes linger on her injured foot. "I guess that bruise on your face is from the last guy you threatened?" he asks, sarcasm in his voice, before his tone softens, becoming almost gentle. "What happened to you?"
When he lifts his gaze, she sees genuine concern in his eyes.
She swallows hard, and maybe she's about to make the biggest mistake of her life, but she lowers the poker. "My boyfriend and I are with the counselors here at camp." She emphasizes the word "boyfriend" so he'll know right away she's not the only one in here.
"Bullshit." He shakes his head. "Nobody's arriving before noon."
"How do you know?" Laura sighs. It doesn't matter anymore, now that the initial adrenaline has worn off, and she probably wouldn't be able to bash his head in anyway. "We arrived last night. I fell when we heard an injured animal screaming. We went to... check on it and help. That's when this happened to my foot. And to my face." She shrugs. "Mr. Hackett let us in."
His gaze is indecipherable, but his jaws work as if he's thinking very carefully about what to say next. "Did he now." It's not a question. When she nods, he sighs and runs a hand through his wet hair. "I'm Travis Hackett, the local sheriff. My brother runs the camp."
“Your brother…”
He points to a stool next to the kitchen counter. "Sit down. I'll take a closer look."
"Uh." She blinks. "It's okay, really..."
But he's already turned around and is gathering up the things he dropped, putting them away in the fridge and reaching for an ice pack. When she doesn't move, he looks at her over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow.
Laura hesitates. She just threatened a cop, and theoretically, she and Max were trespassing last night. But he doesn't seem angry at all. ...that's good, right? It doesn't seem like he wants to put her in jail now so she can spend the longest two months of her life there.
It probably wouldn't be wise to antagonize him now.
She presses her lips into a thin line and leans the poker against the counter. Letting out a soft sigh, she sits down on the stool and dangles her feet while keeping an eye on him.
He places the ice pack and a bandage next to her on the counter. "I owe you an apology," he says softly, and before she can ask what he means, his large fingers settle against her cheek.
She blinks like a deer in headlights.
Does he realize how much he's invading her personal space? Is he doing it on purpose? But the way he gently tilts her chin from left to right seems so innocent that she doesn't even feel like complaining. "I'm sorry about that," he says. "But at least I can tell you it doesn't look too bad."
"Sorry for what?"
His gaze is warm, sad, and impossibly tired. "We spent all of last week trying to get rid of a rabid bear before the camp season would start."
Laura winces at that. She tries to blame it on the faint pressure of his fingers on her bruise, but she thinks they both know it isn't about that. "Is that what I heard?"
He presses the ice pack into her hand and shakes his head. "He killed a doe. I didn't catch him until after that."
Of course, Laura immediately recalls her nightmare involving blood and guts and hungry bears, and for a moment she's so out of it that she doesn't really realize his movements until he's already dropping to his knees in front of her. In his left hand he holds the bandage, the right he holds out expectantly. As if he's inviting her for a dance. As if Laura is Cinderella and he is the prince with the glass slipper. As if he isn't a stranger and as if she isn't half naked.
Her mouth is dry. She wants to laugh, to tell him that this is really quite awkward, but no sound escapes her lips.
His eyes are a dark, bottomless lake, and his exhausted, sad expression reminds her of her first day at the internship, of that time she looked into the eyes of an old dog before it had to be put to sleep.
She doesn't back away when his warm fingers touch her ankle. Goosebumps form on her skin; the kind that are almost embarrassing. Despite the ice pack on her jaw, her face feels hot.
Does he know that this is almost invasive? Is this his way of getting revenge for the whole thing with the fire poker?
However... with the methodical way he bandages her foot, she seems to be the one making it weirder than it is.
"I'm sorry," he says again, lifting his eyes for the first time. "That you got hurt because of me."
"It's not like..." She clears her throat. Her voice sounds rough. "It's not like you pushed me over that tree root."
"And yet..." The corners of his mouth twitch into an exhausted smile.
They stare into each other's eyes in silence for a moment, then she asks the first thing that comes to mind to bridge the silence. "Why're you wet?"
Again, his jaws work. He sighs softly and drops his shoulders. "The doe had a calf. I pulled it out of the lake earlier." He must be interpreting her horrified look correctly, because he quickly says, "It's alive. It's uninjured. Don't worry."
And then, as if only now also realizing how strange this situation is between them both, he carefully lowers the hand in which he was still holding her ankle and gets back on his feet. "If you take it easy for a few days, it'll be fine."
She smiles. "Thanks, Mr. Hackett."
He blinks. Then he huffs and returns the smile. "Travis."
"Huh?"
"You almost tried to bash my skull in. I think we're on a first-name basis."
And you've seen me in my panties. I guess we are.
"I'm Laura," she belatedly introduces herself. "Laura Kearney."
"Well, Laura Kearney, then I hope you have a good time at Hackett's Quarry."
"Best two months of my life," she says without thinking, and when he raises his brows, she chuckles softly. "Sorry. It's an inside joke."
There is confusion reflected in his eyes, but he shrugs. "One that I hope will come true."
"...thanks, Travis."
He turns to leave, muttering something about a hot shower to get rid of the forest stench. In the doorway, he turns back to her and nods. "We'll probably run into each other again."
"...Okay."
As she looks after him, she can't help but think that the two best months of her life are already the two strangest months of her life...