Read Lost at Running Brook Trail for Free Online

road filled with stones, with these losers who wanted to damage her good phone, not to mention her good face. It had to be her face! It was the reason she was here. They all envied her face.
    Kimberly inspected the Storm, turning it over in her hand. It seemed to be all right, in spite of the hit it had taken. Maybe they were wrong when they said the newer phones were more fragile than the older ones.
    “Well,” said Miriam, “aren’t you going to call someone?”
    “She doesn’t ask me if the phone works, but she wants to know who I’m going to call.”
    Miriam stepped toward Kimberly. Elaine, sensing what might happen, stepped in front of Miriam.
    “Does the phone work?” Elaine asked.
    “Why are you asking? You’re not the one who tried to damage it.” Kimberly folded her arms and placed the phone under one of her arms. She wanted to get at Miriam.
    “I’m asking because I want this ridiculous back and forth to stop so you can tell someone where we are.”
    Kimberly laughed. “Do we know where we are? Oh, sorry, I guess we’re somewhere near a creek on a rocky road.” She was the one with the phone. They had nothing. Let them wait. They’d been told no electronic devices, but she’d been smart and had brought her iPod and her phone.
    “Actually, that’s exactly what you would say.” Elaine heard the crunch behind her and held her hand backward to ward Miriam off. “In addition to any other details that you can pick out around here.”
    Kimberly slowly unfolded her hands and toyed with something on the face of the phone. “No signal.”
    “Great,” Elaine said.
    Susan, a bystander to the conversation, ate the other half of her sandwich. “Who would you call?” she asked, her mouth half full.
    “The lodge.”
    “Do you have the number?”
    “That’s right, we don’t, but one of us could call home and get someone to call the lodge.” Elaine didn’t want to be the one to make any calls because her parents would want to know how she had gotten herself lost. Her mother would go on and on about listening and paying attention to what was said by experienced adults. She would probably tell Elaine that she had not grasped whatever lessons there were to be learned. Kimberly had the phone, so she could make the call if they ever got any signal.
    “Kimberly, could you check at intervals to see if you’re getting a signal?” Elaine asked.
    “We’ll see,” Kimberly said in her usual terse and ambiguous manner. She was either going to check or she wasn’t. What choice did she have anyway? Was she going to cut off her nose to spite her face? Sometimes she felt like doing just that—place herself at a disadvantage so that others would be inconvenienced—but she probably wouldn’t do it now, especially with Miriam breathing down her neck. Kimberly placed the Storm in one of the pockets of her black cargo shorts. They moved on.
    Susan was the first to feel the effects of the loading up of her stomach with water. Her bladder felt as if it was about to explode. She had to go, but where? “I need a bathroom,” she said.
    “The only bathroom you’re going to find out here is those bushes.” Elaine pointed away from the path.
    Susan looked in the direction of Elaine’s hand with alarm.
    “You either want to go or you don’t. Which is it?”
    “Who knows what’s out there?” Susan said, still looking in the direction of the bushes.
    “Just more trees,” Elaine said.
    Kimberly reached into her pocket and took out the Storm. Still no signal. It was possible they would never get one out here.
    “Do you have any tissue?” Susan asked Elaine, deciding she really had to alleviate the pressure in her bladder.
    “Don’t you?” Elaine responded, dodging the question.
    “No, that’s why I asked you.”
    “I have some, but I don’t want to finish it, especially not now.”
    “I only need a little.”
    Elaine reached into her bag and pulled out one full roll of tissue still in its plastic wrap.