Tides of the Heart (Crestwood Chronicles #1)

Chapter 9

Strong emotions and exercise are two things that will trigger my asthma, and having just had a hefty dose of each, it's no surprise that my lungs feel too tight and my breath whistles in my throat. Anxiety zings through my veins, making my heart pound and my hands tingle, and panic looms like a dark cloud at the back of my mind.

I force myself to take slow, deep breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth, as I retrace my steps towards camp. I can't have walked more than a kilometer, despite my emotion-fueled pace, and I'll be back at my tent, inhaler in hand, in less than ten minutes. If I can just stay calm, I'll be fine.

Dry gravel crunches under the soles of my sturdy hiking shoes, and a fitful wind tousles my hair. It was already getting long when the internship began. The curls hide most of the length, but it's nearly to my shoulders when it's wet. I need to get it cut when I get back, but I hate to pay salon prices. Maybe Lana will cut it for me.

Distracting myself with such mundane thoughts, I focus on anything except the wheeze in my lungs and the way my vision seems darker at the edges. I've only passed out from a combined panic and asthma attack once before, and the memory isn't pleasant.

My high school gym teacher had concluded, in his infinite wisdom, that I was a whiner and a fake, when I'd asked to be excused from training for an upcoming track meet while still recovering from a cold. Threatened with detention (the horror) I'd done my best to run, panicked at the point furthest from the locker rooms (where I'd left my medicine) and fainted. The gym teacher had then panicked, too, and called 911, which is how I ended up in the ER.

There, to make my day even better, I'd had to endure the doctor's pitying glances as my dad insisted that no son of his would panic or faint, and she'd had to explain that I had, indeed, done both.

It only happened that once, but I never really lived it down—at school or at home. A few kids even mentioned it in my yearbook ("Stay conscious, Charlie!" Ha fucking ha, Jake) and my dad makes backhanded comments to this day about stamina and 'grit,' or whatever the fuck running until you die because you're terrified of 'weakness' is called.

It's a painful memory, fraught with negative feelings, and I try to focus on something more positive. Unfortunately, the best I can come up with is that if I pass out and no one finds me, exposure or asphyxiation will spare me another trip to the ER.

Finally cresting the small rise above camp, I stop in my tracks and stare. Like a cartoon character, I actually blink and rub my eyes, but the scene doesn't change.

The camp isn't there.

For a full two seconds, my irrational conclusion is that everyone packed up and left me here, but that's impossible. Even if they'd started the instant I was out of sight, there's no way they could break down the tents and get everything packed in thirty minutes.

The truth, when it settles in, is no less alarming, because the truth is the camp was never here.

When I stormed off earlier, it was late evening, but there had still been plenty of light in the sky. Now, the first stars have appeared, and most of the color has drained from the world, leaving behind only blues and gray. On my way back, I'd been so lost in my own thoughts, caught between memory and trying not to panic, that I must have taken a wrong turn, or gotten turned around, and now I'm lost.

Panic slams into me like a bus, heat exploding in my chest and cold sweat breaking out across my chest and back. Dizzy, I collapse to sit on the ground, heedless of the sharp gravel poking through my jeans, and lean forward with my head between my knees.

It's your own damn fault, I tell myself, fighting to remain rational and calm. The first day in camp, one of the first things they told us was not to wander off alone. It might seem like you can't get lost in a barren landscape, but if you don't take note of landmarks, it's easy to get turned around. Another thing they told us was that if we were to get lost, we should remain where we are and not keep wandering around, potentially getting more lost, or inadvertently eluding rescuers.