Free Stranded by Melinda Braun

backward with momentum. “No!” I gripped my left fingers harder on my handhold. Dear Jesus, please don’t break. I have to drop the pack. I have to or I’m going to fall. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to drop it.
    Drop it! No! Not yet! You’re almost there!
    Instead, I wrenched my chest back toward the rock face, using every muscle in my shoulders and stomach, while hot streaks of pain erupted under my ribs in protest. I slammed back against the cliff, the force of my impact sending a stream of gravel and sand down on my head and neck. A clod of dirt hit my face and exploded against my mouth. “Son of a bitch!” I coughed, trying not to gag. Don’t drop it!
    Suddenly I was rising, my chin butting the rocks as I ascended, like I was being lifted by a crane. Within seconds the ground flattened out, and I collapsed forward onto it and turned over, only to see a large shadow hunched over me. Isaac clicked his flashlight on, holding it under his chin. He looked like a ghoul. “You called?”
    *  *  *
    An hour later we were all huddled together on the smooth granite outcropping, taking shallow breaths through our shirts. Isaac had shown me a slim trail up the far side, steep but still walkable. Apparently I had picked the hardest routeto the top. And with Oscar’s help we got Chloe up the cliff. The smoke came in waves, gusting thick, then ebbing out, depending on the direction the wind shifted. It swirled so quickly it was impossible to know where it was coming from, impossible to know what to do.
    So we did nothing but sit. We hunkered down, as Isaac called it, and rode it out, hoping the bare rocks would keep the flames from us.
    Another gust made my eyes burn; at least it didn’t feel hot. The wind seemed to be picking up.
    â€œThank you, Jesus,” Isaac coughed weakly. He pulled his shirt down and gulped the fresh air.
    â€œWhaddya mean?” Chloe said, her whole face buried in her flannel shirt.
    â€œThe wind’s coming from the north,” Isaac said. “The fire was behind us, to the south.”
    â€œHow do you know?” My eyeballs felt as though they’d been scraped with sandpaper, and I squeezed them tighter, hoping to make some tears.
    â€œI just do.”
    â€œThat makes me feel a whole lot better,” Oscar said. I couldn’t tell by his voice if he was being sarcastic or not. Mainly, he sounded tired.
    â€œIt should. That means we won’t be turning into crispy crunchies any time soon.”
    â€œUnless the wind changes direction,” Chloe muttered.
    â€œYeah.” Isaac rubbed his face, smearing soot. He lookedlike he was wearing camouflage paint. “But I think we’ve had enough bad luck for one night.”
    â€œI think we’ve had enough bad luck for the rest of our lives,” Oscar said.
    I knew a little about bad luck, enough to know it didn’t work that way, but I didn’t bother to say it. There was no point. Instead, I took deep breaths of fresh northern air, grateful for the reprieve, however long it would last.

Day 4
Dawn
    I woke to see the horizon edge glowing seashell pink.
    How long was I asleep?
    Crouched between Chloe and Oscar, I pressed my back up against the ledge and sniffed the air. No smoke. Oscar’s head was crooked on my shoulder, Chloe’s bad leg propped up in my lap.
    â€œRise and shine, sleeping beauty.” Isaac poked his finger against my forehead.
    â€œWhat time is it?” I wiped the crust out of my eyes, still raw and gritty.
    â€œTime to get off this cliff and find some water.” He shook his empty canteen at me. “We’re out.”
    â€œI have some left.” Immediately I regretted that. I certainly wasn’t going to give him my share, but then again, I figured he was the type who’d just take it.
    â€œWe’re going to need more soon.” He kept staring at me.Curious. Hungry almost. Like a bird looking