The Purgatorium

Chapter Twenty

The woods soon gave way to more rocky crags they must either climb or go around, and since going around also meant the possibility of running into the ghostly crew, they opted to climb. Daphne's muscles ached when she dug in her feet and pulled herself up. At least the wounds on her leg and hip were scabbed and no longer bleeding. The wind lifted her ponytail and cooled her skin, moving through Brock's shirt and up her shorts.

"Stay close to the rock," Daphne warned. "We don't want to be spotted."

Once she reached the summit, she lay flat on her belly and looked over the edge. She gasped, because she saw something she had never seen before, even from the peak of Mount Diablo: a tower.

"That must be the naval tower," she told Brock once he had clamored up beside her, flat on his belly, too. "Cam told me about it on the way over. Real naval guards should be manning it."

"What do you mean 'real'? As opposed to unreal?"

She quickly explained what had happened with the girl in the valley and the interview with the supposed guards.

"This place really is screwed up," he said when she had finished her story.

"Do you think the real guards could help us?" she asked.

"I would think so. What do you think?"

"I say we go for it and get help."

They made their way over the rocky crags and back down toward another patch of lush trees. It was shady here, and the wind was gentler, and soon they came upon a path that led to a spring.

Daphne knelt by the water and submerged her face. She allowed some of the water to rush into her mouth. It tasted fresh and delicious.

"It worries me that we can't see the tower from down here," Brock said, "but this spring and this path must lead to it, don't you think?"

"Yeah. I would think so." Then she said, "I need water." The little taste from the spring hadn't been enough to quench her thirst.

He turned around so she could get the last bottle from the pack. Now that they could refill it with spring water, there was no reason to conserve it.

She gulped down half of it and then asked Brock if he wanted some. "It's so good," she said.

He drank the rest of it, and then bent over the stream and refilled the bottle.

Keeping their eyes out for signs of the others, they picked through the trees beneath the songs of birds and a new mossy smell, until they came upon a paved road running north and south. The south would lead them back to where they started, so they headed north. It was nice to have the sun and a sense of direction again.

The heat off the pavement made Daphne hot and sticky, and the sweat stung her sunburnt skin, but the smooth road was easier on her feet, even though it was uphill.

"I liked it better in the woods," Daphne said after a moment, not meaning to complain.

"I think I see something up ahead."

She craned her neck. "What?"

"A jeep."

"Not from the resort."

"I hope not. Let's get off the road."

They darted into the trees and crept toward the jeep for a better view of its passengers.

"Can you see anything?" Daphne asked.

"Not yet."

They trudged on, and soon Daphne saw the jeep and two men wearing white navy uniforms standing on the road talking.