Stuart lay in his sleeping bag, trying to ignore the sound of Michael's vomit hitting the river. He closed his eyes, which only amplified the sound of the guts splashing outside. Three hours; that's all it took for the stomach bug to kick in. Stuart felt a bit at fault for Michael gurgling up infested river water. However, if Michael had not been power-walking, he might have noticed him taking sips along the hike.
"Are you doing alright?" Stuart asked, only to be met with a groan. "Ok, just let me know if there's anything I can do. Yak it all up, that a boy." He lay on the hard ground, wondering whether it'd be appropriate to take a snack from the pack. He unzipped the bag to find Michael ankle-deep in water hunched over, moaning as he dry heaved. "You look like you're doing great. I'm just going to be back there." Realizing he wasn't going to get a response, Stuart grabbed the pack and headed into the forest.
He unzipped the pack and fished through the food until he found the wasabi peas he'd requested. They hadn't told him it was for hiking through the wilderness and now admitted the food choice was not the smartest, given the circumstances. Still, his craving was more substantial than reason. He crunched loudly, smiling. His mouth burned as he took a sip of water.
As he threw a second handful into his mouth, his eyes saw something in the distance. It couldn't be. Could it? Stuart shoved the peas into his pack and hustled. He wiped his eyes. Was he hallucinating?
He swore he could see a shirtless figure leaning against a small tree. The person seemed to have a head three time's too big for his body. He blinked again. The body was entirely still facing away from him. Maybe it was just a tree. As Stuart got closer to the object, he began to see the outline of a muscular back. It was a person, a man, and he was wearing some type of mascot head. When he was within a hundred feet of the person, he could see the mascot head was the face of a bunny.
Stuart stopped walking and debated whether a perfectly still, shirtless man wearing a bunny mask in the middle of godforsaken Alaska was a person he actually wanted to talk to. In most circumstances, he'd pretend he hadn't seen the oddity. He realized this was not a typical circumstance.
"Hey, umm, hello!" Stuart shouted, starting to walk towards the man again.
The bunny head jerked to his direction. The large eyes seemed to stare him down. The perfectly still body was tense. The stomach revealed a set of perfect abdominals. The man reached up and pulled the mask from his head. Stuart watched as the man's long black hair came flowing from the cover. His nose was hooked, and his jaw was extensively defined.
"Someone's here!" The bunny-man shouted.
"Have you taken any drugs recently?" Stuart spoke slowly, raising his hands. "Sir what type of drugs have you—"
A small redhead stepped out from the woods towards the bunny-man. She had clusters of freckles sprayed across her face. A camera with a large lens was clutched in her hand.
"This is the last time." The man pouted, "We are in the middle of nowhere, and someone still sees me. It's embarrassing."
"Oh shut up, if you were embarrassed, why are you still flexing?"
"I'm not—"
"Umm hi," Stuart interrupted the odd scene, "I'm not sure what's going on. I'm not sure if I want to know. Could you please tell me which way the town is. We got turned around and—"
Snap.
"I'm sorry. You just have a perfectly symmetrical face." The redhead viewed the photo of Stuart closely, lifting the camera just in front of her button nose. "Not like an attractive symmetrical, but like a pleasing, friendly symmetrical."
"Oh, thanks. So which way is the town?"
Snap
"Elle, stop. You can't just snap photos of people. They don't like it."
"He's just so gentle looking." Elle smiled wide, viewing the photo, "I'm sorry," she finally let go of the camera, allowing it to hang from the lanyard around her neck. "I get lost in my photos. You just have such soft features. I'll delete them if you like."
"We've been hiking for a long time. My brother's sick. We're completely lost, we've been hiking for days now. Which way is the town?"
"Which town are you looking for?" Elle asked.
"Whichever is closest. We were supposed to meet our friend in-umm-in- it' a been a long hike. If we could just get to the closest town, we can call him. I'm sure he's worried sick."
"The closest town is that way." The muscular, long-haired man stated, pointing in the opposite directions they'd been hiking.
Stuart looked at the large mascot head tucked beneath his vein-bulging forearm. The black glass eyes stared blankly back at him. "Well, thank you. This has been—odd. But informative. Thank you. You may go back to whatever you were doing. I won't tell anyone," Stuart nodded at the man then at Elle as he turned to leave.
"You might want to come with us," Elle said.
"I'll be alright," Stuart said over his shoulder. "Thank you, though."
"Twenty miles is a long hike," Long-hair said under his breath.
Stuart stopped and turned, "Twenty miles?" Both of them nodded back. "How did you get here?"
"Our dad's dinghy is around the bend," Elle stated.
"Odd thing to point out, but how did you get here?" Stuart replied.
"A dinghy's an inflatable boat," Elle replied. "We have a cabin a few miles down the river. We've got a landline inside, I'm sure our parents won't mind if you come in to make a call. Then we can drive you into town." Elle smiled, lifting the camera to her eyes, snapping three quick shots. "What's your name?"
"Stuart," he replied and immediately regretted using his real name.
"Well, I'm Elle, and this is Thor." She gestured to her large brother that fit the name in every sense other than hair color.
"And your real name?" Stuart asked.
"Thor is my real—"
"Clifford," Elle started giggling.
"I'll break your camera." Clifford turned to Elle.
"Well, now that we're acquainted, is there any way we could head back to the cabin now? I mean, unless you're not done with your shirtless sibling photo shoot.."
"We're done," Thor replied shortly.
"Well, well, you said it, Cliff. Let's go. Let me grab my things.”
Thor continued to grumble about how he better never say that name again as Stuart showed them through the woods back to the riverbank. Michael was sitting on his knees in the river, hands-on thighs, hunched over. The water reached up to his waist. Every few moments, his body would convulse as he let out a groan. Stuart casually picked up the devices Michael had left next to the sleeping bag and slipped them into his pack.
"Oh my, oh my!" Elle croaked when she caught sight of him. "Thor, go get the dinghy."
"He can walk like the rest of—"
"Go get the dinghy." Her voice was stern, she glared at him, her thin eyebrows dug down beside her nose. She watched a few moments as Thor casually walked down the muddy bank with no hurry in his step.
"Christine?" Michael moaned without turning around.
"No, not Christine," Stuart answered, "Elle and her brother Clifford. They've got a cabin near here. Cliff’s got his father's dinghy."
"How do you know what his father's dingy—" Michael moaned.
"A dinghy's a small inflatable boat," Elle said.
Michael stayed put in the water as Stuart and Elle packed the makeshift campsite. Several minutes later, an engine roared in the distance. Thor came humming around the corner on the small white dinghy steering from the rear. His hair seemed to be floating in the air as the boat made it’s way the last hundred meters to their spot.
Carefully, Elle handed Thor her camera then Stuart's bag. Michael was the last aboard the boat, he rolled over the bumper and laid on his side. Thor took a few moments to scroll through the photos of himself before ripping the engine back to life.
The dinghy crept through the water. The engine roared, trying to push through the excess weight. Stuart reached into his pocket to make sure his alert device was still there and was relieved to find it hadn't fallen during the hike. He had explicit instructions to only use it when Gary appeared. Stuart assumed this meant other operatives had been following them and watching them in the woods.
If they hadn't come across the strange siblings, he wondered if the company would forgive him for using the alert device as an emergency response signal. He doubted it. But this wasn't what he signed up for. He wasn't supposed to be here with Michael Robinson. He'd done his part. Why was he here? He glanced over the edge of the boat to see if he could spot movement through the brush. Maybe just a glimpse of the crew he knew were assigned to follow them at a far distance. He didn't.
The dinghy floated around a final bend before opening to a large lake of water, wide enough to make the trees on the far side appear the size of figurines. Large brown and green splotched mountains outlined the edge of the water on all sides. The ripples reflected the sun's rays, creating tiny rainbows across the water.
The boat followed the right shoreline towards a small wooden dock that stretched ten feet into the water. As they scooted closer, Thor cut the engine allowing the momentum to carry the boat right up to the landing. He grabbed a looped rope and tossed it to a hook that had been bolted to the wood. His arms squeezed tight as he pulled the boat in close, bumping against the dock.
"Our grandfather built this dock," Ella said proudly, "And that place. We come here once a year. It's our private getaway."
Stuart followed her point up the dock and past the dirt pathway. A grand two-story log cabin sat perched on a tiny hill. "It's magnificent," Stuart muttered in genuine delight.
Thor stayed in the boat as the three climbed the rusty ladder.
"I'll deflate and fold the boat. Let them make their call, then I can take them to town."
The three walked up the path to the house. Michael noted that a single car was parked to its side. Ella stepped up the uneven steps and pushed open the back door. "Mom, we're back, and we've got visitors." She shouted into the house.
"What do you mean you've got—" the kitchen door swung open. Elle's mom stepped into the living room, still wearing an apron that read 'hot stuff' with a photo of a chili pepper printed below it. She had red frizzy hair that was messily pulled up in a bun. Her glasses had a blue beaded chain that wrapped around the back of her neck. She pulled the glasses to take a better look at the two strangers standing in the living room of her vacation house. "I see you traded in your brother," she said, coming off more as a question than a statement.
"Thor's folding up the boat. This is Stuart and..Michael? We found them in the woods,"
"Well, you can't keep them," Elle's mom smiled. "Although he does have soft features," she grazed the back of her hand against Stuart's baby fat cheeks causing him to blush. "Michael, Stuart, you can call me Liz…or mom. Whichever you like.”
"We told them they could use our phone. They've got a friend that will pick them up in town."
Michael's stomach began to twist. Knowing his surroundings, he took two quick steps to get back out the door before collapsing to his knees.
"Excuse my brother." Stuart finally spoke, "He drank lake water."
Liz's face instantly flooded with a look of concern. She hustled to Michael's side and grazed her purple fingernails across his back, "There there, you look terrible." Her voice was filled with worry, "Your clothes are soaking! Let's get you undressed."
Liz helped Michael to his feet and slowly helped him towards the stairs. On the first step, she turned, "Elle, your father's in the shed cleaning his hunting gear. Dinner's in the kitchen. It'd be nice if you could dish it for everyone. Make an extra plate for Stuart as well."
Michael dry heaved twice on his slow walk up the stairs. Liz kept murmuring, telling him he'd feel better in just a few moments.
"Is my brother going to be safe up there?" Stuarts said with a concerned look.
"What do you mean?" Ella asked, "My mother's a retired nurse. He's in good hands, I promise."
"Well, the last thing she said implied her stripping his clothes off. I'm not a doctor, but typically the flu can be handled while clothed." He smirked and shrugged.
"That is my mother!" Elle acted as if she was angry, with a funny twinge in her voice. "Don't be gross."
"And that is my wife." A voice boomed from behind.