Free Ashes by Ilsa J. Bick

They’d kept on running as that weird light faded, and then they’d run some more, stumbling on by flashlight until the only scents Alex picked up were of the forest and themselves. By then, with the moon not yet risen, the woods were black, and the going too treacherous for them to continue.
    Ellie hadn’t wanted to eat. Really, Alex didn’t much blame her; she was pretty queasy, too—almost chemo-queasy—and wrung-out from the accumulated horrors of this terrible day. Clutching her useless iPod, Ellie watched as Alex threw together a debris shelter using pine boughs and deadfall. Somewhere along the way, the girl had vomited, and Alex used her shirt to get rid of the worst of the muck on Ellie’s face and parka. She managed to coax the kid into chewing the moist inner bark of a thin twig of white pine: It tastes like a sugar lemon drop, Ellie. Honest. Pines were famine food, too; the Ojibwa used to pound the dried pulp into flour, and Alex briefly considered then abandoned the idea. They were so not sticking around any longer than they had to.
    But they would be in a world of hurt if Alex couldn’t find water, and soon. The stream was back the way they’d come, but there was no way she was retracing her steps, not with those kids out there. They just had to hope another stream intersected the trail, because, at this rate, the river was still three days out. Not good.
    Now, Ellie asked, “What about food?”
    â€œWe’ve got Jell-O and the power bars.”
    â€œBut I ate one.”
    â€œIt’s okay, Ellie. You were hungry, it’s fine.”
    â€œI stole it.”
    She decided on a different tack. “When we get to the river, we’ll fill up our water bottles and catch a couple fish.”
    â€œBut you said fishing would slow us down.”
    â€œWell, not necessarily. If we’re stronger, we’ll move faster. You’ve got the rod and lures, right?”
    â€œUh-huh.” Ellie’s voice was so drained of color it sounded transparent as glass.
    â€œSo we’re set.”
    â€œWhat if they’re not biting?”
    â€œThey’ll bite.” Then she thought of something. “Your grandpa took you out of school to go hiking, right? So when were you supposed to go back?”
    â€œTo school? Um … Tuesday.”
    Today was Saturday. “Which means you’d have to get back on Monday, latest. So, is there anyone at your house?”
    â€œJust Mrs. Pierce. She lives next door and takes in the mail and does stuff with the lights.”
    â€œSo there you go. If you guys don’t show up by Monday, Mrs. Pierce will get worried. She’ll probably phone the rangers at the park entrance or maybe the station. I wouldn’t be surprised if the rangers know all about you by the time we get there.”
    â€œWon’t anyone worry about you?”
    â€œSure, but not for a while.” It occurred to her then that without her watch, she might easily lose track of the days. One more thing to worry about. Maybe notch a stick …
    â€œWhat if Mrs. Pierce doesn’t worry? What if it takes her a couple days?”
    â€œWell, you worrying about her not worrying won’t help. Don’t sweat it. Come on, try to get some sleep.”
    â€œI can’t.” A rustle as Ellie squirmed. “These leaves are itchy.”
    â€œTry.”
    â€œBut what if … what if that girl … what if they …?”
    â€œThey won’t. It’ll be okay.”
    â€œBut how do you know?”
    â€œBecause we ran a long time and they didn’t come after us and now it’s dark. If they were going to chase us, they’d have done that already.”
    Pause. “Why were they doing that? Why were they—”
    â€œI don’t know.” Maybe the brain-zap made the kids go crazy, like the deer and the birds. But the birds were back to normal and so was Ellie, and eating people was way, way