C'est La Vie

Just a quick warning: I first composed the story late at night, and finished it out of love for the main character. It's not an amazing plot, but... I hope that through painful corrections I can make my writing less awkward and self-conscious. I end up ashamed of everything I write that isn't humor, so... This isn't.

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“It’s official. We’re lost,” said Taylor. He stopped walking and leaned against the tree.

I glared at the compass in my hand, and turned it around a bit. The needle turned with it. “My stupid compass is broken.”

“This is all your fault,” said Rachel, glaring at her brother, the adult “chaperone” for the trip, Gary.

“What? How is this my fault?”

“‘Let’s go off the path and see if there’s any better camping spots! Let’s see if there’s a shortcut back to the parking lot!’” Rachel mocked.

“She has a point,” piped up Taylor.

“Shut up. I’m trying to find the way out of here.” Gary retorted.

Taylor rolled his eyes.

Robin scratched his head. “Isn’t there some sort of rule about which side moss grows on? Or is that only in places that have some sun?”

“The north. Or was it the south?” mused Taylor.

“I have no clue. Applied Botany isn’t something I pay any attention to.” Rachel always talked, even when she had nothing to say.

“I don’t think there is such a thing as Applied Botany.” So did Taylor.

“I think it’s only if there’s sun,” I answered Robin. The shadow-dappled forest’s trees seemed to me to have lichen and moss scattered all over them.

“It’s getting dark, anyway. We should make camp.” Gary tried to put himself back in control.

Rachel looked like she wanted to disagree.

“Yeah, we should. This is as good a place as any to stop.” Robin-the-sensible came to the rescue. I was about to collapse anyway.

I dropped my pack on the ground. I was in charge of the food, so I had a pretty small backpack, shrinking after two days out here.

Robin dropped his as well, and started getting the tent set up.

“Taylor, why don’t you go get some firewood?” asked Gary, helping Robin.

“Sure.” Taylor wandered off into the woods.

Rachel and I found a couple of big logs and kicked them. When no wasps attacked up, we rolled them into a loose semi-circle near the tents. Robin and Gary were working on the second, smaller one for Rachel and me.

We sat down.

“This walking stuff is murder on your feet,” Rachel complained.

“It gets old after a bit, yeah,” I agreed.

“Do you think we’ll get out of here before or after running out of food and having to eat rabbit?”

“I think that there’s enough of walking paths around that we have to hit one sooner or later.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

“Though we’re probably going to run out of water before much longer. There’s only about one water bottle each left.”

“Wait, so we need to find a stream or something?”

“Only if you want dysentery.”

Rachel made an expression of disgust.

“What’s taking Taylor so long?” asked Gary.

“Do you think he got lost?” Robin wondered.

“That seems to be the trend,” said Rachel, though I heard the worry in her voice. “Why don’t you go find him, Gary?”

“Erg. Okay.” He gave the tent peg one last hit, and went off into the trees.

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Rachel napped. Robin had sat down next to me, on the opposite side from her, and was now staring into the woods nervously.

“They’re taking a long time,” I finally remarked, when no one else did.

“He probably got lost too,” said Robin dryly.

“Probably.”

“Should I go look?”

“What, and leave us two girls all alone in the woods?” I asked, a tinge of irony in my voice.

“Good point. I should probably take you with me, in case we run into an axe murderer and I need protecting.”

We both laughed.

Rachel stirred, and sat up. “What?”

“Nothing. Just trying to keep the mood light,” said Robin.

“How long was I out?” asked Rachel.

“About an hour, I’d think.” I told her.

She rubbed sleep from her eyes. “Where’s Taylor and Gary?”

The chirping of crickets filled the silence following.

“They’re still looking for firewood?”

Robin nodded. I stared into the fire we’d started on wood near the tents. One of the sticks popped.

“Crap,” she evaluated.

“Yep.”

A few minutes passed in silence.

Footsteps came from the forest across the fire from us, and Gary shuffled into the light. His eyes were shadowed, and something brown was on his hands.

Rachel stifled a scream.

“…air…” Gary’s voice was so soft that the crackle of the flames drowned him out.

“What happened?” Robin’s question dripped fear.

Gary spoke again, louder and more coherently. “A bear. Taylor had accidentally stumbled on a mother bear with her cubs. I – there was nothing…”

Rachel’s voice shrieked, invoking several celestial personages.

I couldn’t do anything for a moment, due to shock, but I felt Robin stand up. My head turned stiffly to watch him.

“Dead?” Robin squeaked.

Gary nodded.

Energy snapped back into my limbs. “You saw him?” I asked, jumping to my feet.

“I – heard some bears sniffing around, and kept away. When they’d left, I found – I found… His throat was torn out…”

Rachel sprung to her feet and raced at him. “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t sent him for that stupid firewood, he’d still be alive!” Her fists beat against his chest.

“Rachel –” Robin walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulders.

She swung backward and caught him across the face with a backhand.

Gary stood there, staring blankly.

I started forward.

“Where?” hissed Rachel at Gary.

He stared at her for a moment before seeming to realize he had to speak. “Straight behind me about a hundred meters, then turn right.”

She dashed off into the woods.

Robin stared at Gary in shock.

“Why would you tell her that?” I demanded. “There’s at least two bears out there! She’ll end up just like him!”

Gary suddenly came back to reality. “What?”

“You just sent your sister after a dead guy in a bear infested forest!”

“I – oh.” His voice got very small. He turned around and dashed into the woods.

And Robin and I were left waiting.

“Should we follow them?” I asked.

Robin shook his head. “We have a fire here. Bears avoid the fire.”

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Time passed.

“C’est la vie,” Robin murmured.

“What?” I asked.

“Such is life. It’s French.”

“But what –”

“It means that life is bad, but it’s still life. We have to deal with it.”

“Oh.”

We lapsed into silence.

“I’m going to go find them,” said Robin.

“What? By yourself?”

“Someone needs to stay here and keep the fire burning.” He picked up a heavy stick from our small pile of firewood. He then rummaged through Gary’s pack, left on the ground by the tent, and pulled out a metal container.

“He brought –”

“Yeah, I thought so.” He poured the liquid onto the tip of his stick and stuck it into the fire until it flamed. “I’ll be back soon.” Robin turned and went into the woods, the glow from the torch silhouetting the tree trunks.

And then there was one.

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It wasn’t much longer that I saw the torchlight weaving through the trees. He’d survived! Take that nature – man’s fire has defeated you!

My celebrating was cut short when I saw his face.

“Robin?” I asked. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

It turned out he’d seen something much worse.

“I… Found her,” he said weakly, his glazed eyes guiding him toward me.

“Oh no…” The revelation smote me like a waterfall.

“She was covered in blood…” he whispered. “Her neck… It was like something sharp had slashed across it.” He shuddered. “Her face was torn up too, like… Like…” He shook his head. “It was horrible.”

My eyes burned with tears, but I couldn’t tell whether it was fear or anger or sadness that brought them there. Either way, I resolved, I would not cry. “We’re being picked off one by one,” I said bluntly. First Taylor, and now Rachel... “Listen,” I told Robin, looking him straight in the eyes, “don’t go anywhere alone until we get out of here. If a bear wants to kill you, it’ll have to get through me.”

“Thanks,” he said. The image of me punching a marauding bear must have danced across his mind, because he suddenly burst out laughing.

I led him to the logs we’d pulled around a makeshift fire and sat him down, letting the laughter wash away the horror.

It’s funny, isn’t it, how in the worst, most frightening times, a laugh is all you need to keep from curling up into a fetal position and hoping it would all go away.

The moon shone down into the small clearing, through the overhanging branches. Gary was probably looking for Rachel too. Judging by the last few of hours, he probably wouldn’t come back.

I shivered despite the merrily crackling fire and slid closer to Robin.

“Ugh,” said Robin, staring at his dirt-encrusted shoes. “What am I going to tell Gary? His sister’s dead. In the woods. And Taylor… How did this happen?”

“We never should have gone camping.” I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. “We’re all going to die out here. This was supposed to be fun! Go to the national park, get a camping permit, and commune with nature for a few days with our best friends… And now half my friends are dead!” I banged my fist against the log, and winced from the pain.

“Hell-oo!” yelled a familiar voice.

Gary stepped out of the shadows of the trees, looking fully recovered from the shock of Taylor’s death.

I felt like strangling him. How could he just bounce back like that?

“Good, you guys are still here. Did you find Rachel?” He directed the question to Robin.

Robin hung his head. “Yes…”

Gary blinked. “Wait, then… Wait. You mean…”

Robin nodded. “Yes, she was attacked too. I don’t know what it was, but…”

Gary had some choice words to describe the situation. I agreed with him.

“C’est la vie,” said Robin with a macabre grin.

“C’est la mort, more like,” I replied.

We all three shuddered.

“Look,” said Gary after a pause, “we need to figure out how to get out of here, but before that, we really ought to eat something and get to bed.” He grabbed a trio of granola bars from our bear-safe container and handed them out. “We’d probably better ration these. Who knows when we’ll get out of here?”

Robin and I nodded and took the granola bars.

After we’d eaten the granola bars and put the trash back in the container, Gary told us to get some rest while he kept watch.

“What good would that do if whatever killed Rachel and Taylor comes back?” I demanded.

“The fire should scare away the bears,” hedged Gary.

“Ugh. Whatever. I hope they eat you first.”

Exhausted, I leaned on Robin’s shoulder, and went to sleep.

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I woke as the fire’s warmth faded, and drowsily opened my eyes. I slowly noticed that there was something sticky and wet flowing against my cheek.

I let out an involuntary gasp, and sat up. Robin’s green hoodie was soaked in blood, flowing smoothly from a massive slash across his neck. I leaned over and was sick into the bush behind me.

I heard a twig snap. My neck snapped around so quickly that I heard the vertebrae pop. I winced.

“Well, Angela, it seems we’re the only ones left.” Gary’s face loomed down over me, and I was struck by the sickening realization that there never was a bear.

“It was you all along?” Incredulity saturated my whispered voice. He’d brought us out here to kill us off, one by one? He couldn’t have… But my senses and logic pointed out, quite clearly that he did.

He shrugged. “It’s a pity about Robin, though. He was just too smart for his own good…” His voice sounded way too objective to be talking about the murder of my best friend.

White-hot fury drove away my momentary weakness like dust before a power washer.

“You monster! You freaking bastard!” I raged, leaping at him.

He caught my fist in one hand and grabbed my other arm with his second. His derisive laughter assaulted my ears while his breath did chemical warfare with my nose… If halitosis replaced mustard gas these days.

I growled and tried to ram my knee into his groin, but his shin caught mine and pushed me off-balance. I fell toward him, and he pinned my arms to his sides. My nose reminded me what happened when a guy wanders around the woods for three days without a shower.

“Get off of me!” I screamed, struggling against his iron grip. It was like he’d been lifting weights for months for the exclusive purpose of restraining adolescent girls.

He dragged me toward the fire, moving me despite my greatest efforts to stay put. Below his arm, I saw the knife, the “hunting knife” that had already claimed the lives of three of my friends, sticking blade first into the embers of the fire. I tried not to imagine what he could do with a red hot knife, and failed.

Luckily, the act of grabbing the hilt of the knife distracted him enough for me to twist free and dash away. I heard him curse and give chase, but I wasn’t planning on running for long. Oh no, he was going to pay. He’d killed Taylor, and Rachel – his own sister! – and made us think there was a bear or something picking us off one by one. He made sure we got lost when we tried to get to a place with cell phone reception or pay phones, and all the while plotting my death. Worst of all, he killed Robin, my best friend and, if I was completely honest, the guy I loved. And now he was going to try to kill me?

Hah! Let him try.

I hefted a fallen tree branch, a good three inches thick, and waited. I’m going to kill him, I told myself, and make him suffer. I’m going to ram his own knife so far up his colon that his stomach acid will corrode it.

Gary stalked (or, at least, attempted to) through the bush and advanced toward me.

“What, you’re going to fight me with a stick, little girl?” he asked. His chuckle grated the air.

“No,” I told him, “I’m going to kill you with a stick.”

He seemed to find this hilarious. But, with idiotic recklessness, he had stepped into range.

I rushed him, snarling, and swung with my best left-handed softball swing. The branch exploded into a thousand soft splinters against his arm.

I stared in shock at the wood. “Da –”

He recovered and seized me again, this time with his knife blade to my throat.

“Now listen closely,” he whispered. “Do exactly what I say, or die.”

There was a bit too long of a pause before I responded. “I’m dead anyway, no matter what I do.” My voice cracked on “what”, despite my intentions, and I inwardly cursed.

I willed myself to push my neck forward, to end my own life without giving him the satisfaction, but I couldn’t do it.

“You seem alive enough to me,” he grinned, blowing his foul odor in my face.

Gary slowly slipped his knife under the collar of my t-shirt and snapped the elastic threads. the blade ripped through the cotton cloth, steadily descending. I was painfully aware of the sharp metal less than an inch from the majority of my vital organs.

Great. He wasn’t just a murderer, he was a pervert too.

He paused in the cutting with his knife just below my navel to leer at me.

My muscles figured out the next part by themselves.

I headbutted him in the chest, while at the same time pushing my lower half back, away from the blade. He jerked wildly forward, but only managed to knick my skin.

To right my balance, I pressed my hands against his chest, pushing him the rest of the way to the ground. Wheezing, he dropped his knife. I snatched it quickly.

He was on the ground, trying to regain his breath.

I stood over him, anger burning away the last of the fear.

“Please!” he gasped, eyes transfixed to the weapon in my hand, “Have mercy!”

“Yeah right.” How could I have ever been afraid of something so pathetic?

He curled up like a cockroach, arms and legs trying to protect his body.

I then, quite literally, kicked his butt.

Then I kicked his side until he rolled over, and then I jammed the knife into his side, through at least two major organs, and watched his death with satisfaction.

When the blood stopped coming out in spurts, I walked back to the campfire and knelt next to Robin.

“This probably isn’t the best time,” I told his closed eyes, “but I love you.” I leaned in impulsively and kissed his still warm lips for the first and only time.

He didn’t kiss me back.

“C’est la vie,” I whispered.

It was then I finally started crying.