Through the Woods

Daya leaned forward as she tightened the straps of her backpack. Her shoulders shrugged, feeling the weight rise and fall against the small of her back, scrunching her bright pink shirt to reveal her midriff. Adjusting her top, she looked over to find Jake, his bag resting on the ground, leaning against his truck. His grey eyes lingered on her as she tested her equipment.

 “What?” Daya snickered, hands looped into the shoulder straps. Jake’s lips curled into a grin. “Stop looking at me like that.” Daya turned her back to him, glancing coyly over her left shoulder, her weight shifting in well-worn hiking boots. “It’s my first time…?” The half question hung in the air. 

“Look pretty comfortable for the first time.” Jake responded, maintaining his smile; he pointed at the two patches of faded nylon on her pack. “And that bag looks pretty worn.” Jake hoisted his bag, still in pristine condition, onto his broad shoulders before heading toward her. Pointing past her with his hulking arms in a too-tight shirt, he said, “The trail heads right over there. We’ll hike out about an hour or so and then veer off to the campground.” Daya rested her hands on her hips, coming to a stop to let him catch up. 

“What ‘bout Kate and Mike? Aren’t we suppose to wait for them here?” Her voice rose an octave at the end. 

“Mike said they couldn’t make it. Something about Kate being sick.” Jake walked past her.

“She seemed fine last night at dinner. I hope she’s ok.” After a brief pause, she asked in trepidation, “It’s not Covid, is it?” She covered her mouth, moving beside Jake, her feet falling in step with his. “I don’t want to expose you.” 

“No. It’s not Covid.” He chuckled, looking into her green eyes, highlighted by her auburn hair and pale skin. “Mike thinks it’s something she ate. She’ll be fine by tomorrow.” 

Daya released a half-hearted sigh. “Oh, good.” Her chin on her left shoulder, lips pouting, eyes looking upward at him, she asked, “Do you still want to go... With just the two of us?” Jake faltered to the right, his first words erupting out of him, resonating through the empty parking lot. 

“Hell yeah!” Cheeks burning red, he pulled his pack up higher on his shoulders. Daya broke eye contact, turning to face the opposite direction, her cheeks a rosy pink. He tried to recover. “I mean…yeah. I would love to spend some more time getting to know you.” Their pace slowed to ensure he only stumbled over his words. “Do you still…you know, want to go with just me?” An impish grin covered her face as their eyes met again. Daya nudged him with her shoulder as she hurried ahead, gliding onto the muddy trail.

Bike tracks and footprints led the way, their feet sinking deeper with each step. Daya felt an ease overtake her the further they went. Here the leaves grew more vibrant, the trees more prominent, the life around her thrived. A small piece of paper fluttered in the wind just off the trail. She veered off to grab it, Jake seizing the opportunity to take the lead. A grumble escaped under her breath as she eyed the long black knife strapped to the right side of his bag. 

“What?” Jake asked, the sound carrying further than she had intended. He had turned and started walking backward, his smile unrelenting since she agreed to continue their journey. “Did you say something?” 

Daya shook her head; her skin chilled in the humid air. “Oh…” her heart fluttered; she closed the distance between them. Sliding beside him to the left, barely fitting between the wiry branches and his muscular frame, her fingers interlocked with his. “I just thought I heard something.” her eyes batting, her right hand finding his enlarged bicep. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Jake gave a squeeze of reassurance, “There’s nothing dangerous out there.” Daya wasn’t too sure about that. “It was probably just a rabbit or a squirrel.” Jake's grip tightened with each word. Daya attempted to match the pressure, welcoming the enhanced embrace, the pain almost playful. Their shoulders grew closer, even as the path ahead widened. It wasn’t until another pair of hikers heading in the opposite direction came into view that she fell behind him. Her view obstructed, she listened as the distance closed. 

“Good morning!” A woman called out no more than ten feet in front of them. Their pace slowing, Jake shifting toward the right, Daya moving with him, returned the greeting. 

“Morning.” His voice was deep, calming. “A wonderful weekend for a camping trip, eh?” 

A man answered, both parties now moving at a snail's pace. “Just got an alert that storms coming in tonight. We didn’t prep for it. Hope ya’ll brought some tarps!”

“Little water never killed anyone.” Jake jested. A chorus of laughter interrupted the trill of a nearby woodpecker; Daya remains silent, hidden.  

“Well, stay dry out there!” the woman concluded, a go-pro attached to her hat looking right at Daya as she passed, still stuck behind Jake. “Oh, I didn’t see you there.”

Daya checked over her shoulder to ensure they were alone again before asking, “Did you bring tarps? I don’t think I did.” 

“Yeah, no problem, you can use one of mine.”

“Awesome…” she paused before continuing, “At least I didn’t bring my phone, don’t have to worry about that getting wet.” 

“I’ve got mine, just in case. We’ll be fine.” 

“I thought it would be nice if we didn’t use any electronics this weekend. Kate had said it was meant to be a detox of sorts.”

“Mike didn’t mention it to me, just said it was supposed to be a…couples thing…not that we’re…you know, a couple.” Daya pulled on his arm, bringing Jake to a stop, spinning him to face her. With a hand against his solid chest, she arched up on her toes. Stubble buried itself into her upper lip; warmth filled her chest, radiating through the rest of her body. Daya started to lower herself down, their eyes met, and Jake, his hands now on her hips, pulled her back, closer than they were before. The taste of honey and salt exchanged between them. 

Separating for a breath, Daya returned to the lead position, his hand in hers, pulling him forward. “We should get to camp.” she teased; Jake fumbled with his phone, the screen turning grey. Text appeared at the top of the screen “Swipe to power off.”  

Trees parted into a small clearing revealing dark clouds that gathered overhead. Three light green patches of grass sat a few feet away, their stocks bent, yielding to the pressure placed upon them. Daya’s hand fell to her side, groping where her iPhone usually rested on her thigh. A void formed in her gut as it came up empty. Her left thumb scrolled down the inside of her knuckles, the gap between each digit a welcome reprieve.

Jake had come up beside her, his body tense as he placed his hands on the small of her back. Gently guiding her into him. “So…we’re here.” His chin lowered, and she could feel his excitement. “What do you want to do?” He leaned in, head cocked to the right, lips slightly apart, his eyes closed, her palm forced him back. She cringed at the millions of tiny needles digging into her skin. 

“Slow down there.” Daya stepped back, breaking through his grip. Jake blinked rapidly, his eyes wide. “The only fire your lighting right now,” Daya bobbed her head toward the ring of rocks while grabbing her and Jake's water bottles from the side pockets of their bags, “is that one. Then you can set up our tents while I get us some more water.” As she walked away, her hips swings were more eccentric than normal; she called behind her, “And when I get back, we’ll see how good of a job you did.” The scraping of a blade on flint rang seconds later.

They had passed a river on their way to the campsite, its waters roaring just off the beaten path. Daya weaved through the underbrush's untamed tentacles grabbing at her clothes and hair. She thought of Jake, sitting alone in the clearing, his hands on her waist, on her back, methodically moving over her. The exhilaration she felt when they kissed on the trail, the dream of what might have been, or still could be, if only she could hold on a little longer. 

The river she had expected to find was more of a small stream, the current still steady even though it rose less than halfway up the bank. Three small fish scattered in different directions as she tossed a pebble into the murky water. Daya filled their bottles, watching a pair of dragonflies skirt across the water. Her hand submerged as they tumbled through the air, performing a ballet unmatched beyond this moment, a private show, just for her. They rose higher into the air, her breath held as she waited for them to dive back down for their grande finale, but only one would return. The other carried off in the beak of a swallow toward a grisly fate. She couldn’t hold back the smile, the thought of the intense fear that creature would feel, the unyielding pain it would endure, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Then, nothing. It would experience a true calm, a complete pardon from its struggles, its fears. Daya capped her bottle and headed back to camp, envious of the gift that the dragonfly had received.

The rain had started to trickle down the trunks of the trees, dropping from leaf to leaf, most not making it to the covered ground. Daya had found a worn trail leading back toward camp. In the cover of the trees, she watched Jake sitting by the fire he had made to boil the water she retrieved. His tent, a mass-produced Coleman with enough room for three, sat fully erect, only a few feet away from the open flame. While hers, two simple canvas sheets, the poles required to assemble it missing, remained flat and discarded. He sat on the log bench, toned abs showing through his dampened shirt, from work or rain; it was hard to tell. Daya’s heart fluttered, the lust consuming her, a desire she had tried to fight but could no longer control, winning out over her rational self. She only hoped he would be enough. 

Emerging from the woods, their metal bottles clinked together to draw his attention. Jake rose as she approached, the flame in her eyes brighter than the one he currently tended. A craving he had never seen before caused him to shiver. Daya, seconds ago dry, could feel her shirt tighten against her skin, accenting her voluptuous figure. Jake remained frozen in the downpour, arms crossed against his chest, trying to hide himself while taking in her every curve.

“I couldn’t figure…” his words came out in a stutter, “your tent. The poles…” his mind blanked as the bottles fell to the ground, the clinking of metal on metal barely audible over the escalating rainfall and the sizzle of the fire, the logs cracked, gasping for one last breath. He tried to start again, the distance closing between them, “You can stay in…” he waved indiscriminately toward the only assembled shelter. Her hands landed on his chest, her lips sliding seamlessly between his; the fire snuffed out, gave in to its fate. 

Without a word, Daya took his giant hand, excited by the prospect, dragging him behind her. They stopped at the entrance of his tent, the rain running down their necks, her right palm caressed his course skin, their mouths met while she tugged up on his shirt. His tanned torso pressed firmly against her milky skin as she lifted her own. He stopped her arms above her head, Daya’s shirt resting just above her nose, blocking her eyes. Jake teased a kiss, his lips brushing hers as she fished in the darkness. The lure too tempting for him to pass up, she caught his bottom lip with her teeth, causing Jake to recoil. Replacing his bottom lip with her own, Daya retreated into the tent with Jake following at her heels. 

Daya laid awake, listing to the drum of the rain, disturbed by the occasional snore. The itch she had hoped to scratch was still lingering, growing more irritating with each exhale. Daya moved slowly, inching her way out of the blanket they now shared, pausing at each crinkle of the nylon floor. Jake remained undisturbed as she dressed in the darkness, only the outline of the garments strewn atop his pack visible. Her shirt, the last piece remaining, sat upon the instrument she had tried to avoid.

Excitement swept over her, the knife's hilt fitting naturally in her hand. The blade was not as long as she had expected, but it wasn’t the first thing to disappoint her tonight. After all, it’s not always the size that matters. Jake rolled to his left, his back facing her; she could no longer resist the itch. Sliding next to Jake, the knife still in hand, she whispered in his ear. 

“It’s important to know that you did nothing wrong.” her fingers ran through his hair, “What’s about to happen to you is not your fault.” Jake stirred a bit, causing a rush of adrenaline, her words louder. “I have needs. I’m sure you understand. Everyone has them.” She placed her free hand on his far cheek and moved his head to face her. His eyes opened as their lips locked, his kiss just as passionate as it had been back on the trail. The taste of sweat and rain passed between them, she thought to herself. “If only things had been different.”

“You wanna go again?” He asked excitedly, laying his back flat on the ground. “I don’t know how much I have…gurgle.” the blade lodged firmly in the middle of his throat, his arms flailing around the small enclosure. Jake reached up for her as she yanked up on the instrument, removing it from its newest scabbard. A warm mist covered her face and pool on her shirt, his hands franticly trying to keep in what he could. Each breath becoming more forced, it didn’t take long for his movements to slow. Daya crawled over to him, watching the tempest that once filled those grey eyes fizzle into nothing more than a light shower and finally a cloudy day. Her back arched, and toes curled as the last remnants of light left him.  

Taking the knife and placing it in her bag, she returned to collapse the tent that held her newest treasure. The rain let up long enough for her to use the tent as a sled; she pulled on the nylon listening to it strain under his weight as she took the body to the stream she had filled their canteens at. She knew he was heavier than the others, but she didn’t expect how much. The sun had started to rise when she finally pitched the tent just off the bank, rolling Jake to the edge and watching the current take him to his new home.

Daya returned to her apartment just before noon. She rushed up the stairs two at a time, praying that no one would come out and notice the dark stains that covered her. Safely making it inside, she fetched her phone off the kitchen counter, calling the same number she had called every weekday for the last year. “Welcome to etime phone. Press pound to enter your punch….” The tone echoed through the small one-bedroom as Daya placed on her headset, removed a needle and thread from the drawer, and started to apply a third patch onto her bag. The itch already making itself known.