Chapter Text
1994
Arcadia Bay, Oregon, USA
Abandoned sawmill just outside the town's border.
At a secret indie grunge concert one night, you see a girl you recognize from school. Rachel, a nineteen-year-old with long, strawberry blonde hair, is looking at you. You're surprised that she's here; this grunge scene was not what you thought she was into. On the upper deck of the abandoned sawmill, she stands just past the doorway behind two skeevy dudes... one of which wants to kick the shit out of you because you spilled beer on him and it hurt his feelings.
"Hey dickhead!" she yells at them and they turn around. It gives you enough time to punch the asshole in your way and you both run downstairs. She grabs your hand and you both enter the main floor and merge into the thrashing crowd. You find yourself with her at the front of the stage, looking up at Firewalk playing. Both of you start jumping around and dancing. You smile, laugh, sing and shout. You haven't felt this way in over two years...
You wake up in your bed after sneaking back into your house from the concert. You hear your mother telling you breakfast is ready and you're going to be late for school. You roll out of bed.
After another conversation with your mother about how she thinks you're slipping in school and getting into trouble, she makes you get a ride with your new stepfather. He treats you like a military cadet. The man has no idea how to be a father and thinks that ordering you around and busting your balls is how to do it.
He drops you off at school after spouting another lecture that you completely zoned out from.
You put your hand on the school door to open it and the girl you saw and talked to for the first time at the concert runs into you…
"Oh, good!" Rachel takes your hand and pulls you into the building. "You're here."
There are days that you think that it would've been better if you'd never met at all… The pain is unbearable.
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Spring of 1997
You spend your days putting up missing person flyers, not knowing what to do and wondering why no one cares. You think about the last day you were with her and your last words. You've asked yourself a million times, What happened? Did she really leave without telling anyone? What did I do for her to leave me? She wouldn't do that. Did I say something to her to be mad at me? We had a plan to leave for California together... I wanted to leave with her… to be with her… where are you, love?
Months pass with no sign or word from Rachel. Then, one day, your life changes for the worse. You now know why the police were around your secret hangout spot that morning. Rachel never ran off without you. In fact, she was always so close to you, some days, just feet away. You fall to the floor, wailing... your heart once again compresses in pain at the loss of a loved one. Rachel Amber, the girl you fell in love with, was murdered...
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Summer of 1997
You've been placed on medication to deal with your depression. It doesn't work; you haven't really tried to stay on it for them to work. You spend your days drunk or stoned to deal with the pain. Your strained relationship with your mother has worsened. Your stepfather has given up and wants you out of the house...
You sit on a bench by the lighthouse reading the paper and see an article about Rachel's murder and the court case. You find out so many things about the girl you loved and wonder if she even loved you at all. She had so many secrets and had loved others behind your back. You once again feel the pain in your heart. You look down upon the town and wish it would turn to glass. You hate everything about it. Your father is dead, your once best friend left, your mother doesn't care for you anymore and the girl you had stupidly loved, and for some reason still love, was murdered. You need to leave, now, it feels like you can't breathe. You light up a joint, take a long hit and wait for the effects to kick in. You see an old carving on a tree stump that you and a former best friend had carved years ago as kids. 'C.P + M.C.' You turn away and look out at the ocean... You wonder if it would be easier to just jump and end it all. The pages of the paper that you were reading start to fly away in the wind. You don't care, this place is a dump anyway. You watch as a large sheet just floats off the edge and disappears from view and again, you think it would be easier than to feel all this pain. One sheet flies around and hits you in the face. You tear it away and just as you're going to rip it up out of anger, you see an ad on the paper. You read it twice and you decide to take the first step. You tear it out and walk back to your truck. You glance at your watch, your mother would be working and so would your step-asshole. You have time.
After one phone call on a payphone at the gas station, you park your truck in the driveway and quickly get into your house. There, you go up to the attic and retrieve the gear your father once used. It's old, but it will have to do. An hour later you're packed, you only needed one bag.
You stand in your room one last time and look down at the missing person poster on your desk. You feel your heart starting to hurt but you quickly bury the feelings away and push them down. You grab what cash you had to your name, a photo from beside your bed and one under it in a lockbox. You turn, and before you leave, you see a box on the shelf. You grab it, your late father's old Polaroid camera and what unused film is left in the box. You leave your room for the last time then tape a note to the fridge for your mother. You get in your beat-up truck and drive away, leaving your hometown of Arcadia Bay behind...
'Sometimes, I feel like I've got no reason to stay. Don't be surprised, Chloe, if one day, I'm just out of here.'
After spending the night sleeping in your truck off to the side of the highway, you arrive in the early morning and park in a wooded area parking lot. You get out of your vehicle, lock your truck, grab your hiking pack and say goodbye to your ride. You walk up to the information board to see the map of Shoshone National Park and the Thorofare sector.
There's some notification posters next to it, 'Do Not Forget to Check-in and Check-out.' Whatever. 'No Fireworks.' How about me lighting up to blaze, bitch? 'You're in Their Country, Learn to Live with Bears.' Motherfuckers would be wise not to fuck with me. 'Thorofare Trail is not recommended to inexperienced hikers.' Fuck you, I can do it.
You take one last look at your truck, tighten your pack and start your journey...
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1994
You remember her twirling around under a street lamp, happy and full of life. You hear her voice again, 'I love nights after a show!... Let's leave…(her laugh) Don't you just feel like everything's possible?... Let's leave. For real… Chloe! What would it take to convince you?...'
The next moment changed your life forever.
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Summer of 1997 - Shoshone National Park
You jump down a small ledge on the forest pathway. The sun is high in the sky and you have a good sweat going on. You haven't noticed but it's the first time in a few hours that your head is clear and your thoughts aren't running rampant. You see a small signpost that states and how much further you have to travel. You continue on, looking at your surroundings and the high mountains that tower over the forest.
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1996
Rachel had told you on a train ride that she wanted to be a model. You could see why, she's so beautiful. One day you look at her new portfolio that she had brought over. Rachel said that some friends had taken her picture for her and for their assignments. You notice a page that is not like the others. They're more precise, with better lighting, you wonder who the person that took these was. You don't get the chance to ask, she wraps her arms around you and whispers in your ear. You close her portfolio and place it on the bed next to you. It eventually falls to the floor, kicked mistakenly by feet intertwined with one another.
'I need you, Chloe.'
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Summer of 1997 - Shoshone National Park
By the light of an old gas mantle lantern, you draw a doodle in your journal of your truck with a raccoon driving right next to your entry of what you've seen on the hike that day. You look up at the stars and your mind wanders... you hear her again. You try to push it away, push it back down. You close your eyes and clench your jaw as the pain enters your heart once more.
'I've always loved the stars.'
You drop your journal and quickly light up a joint. Nights are usually the worst for your mind to wander. You count the seconds until you feel your thoughts going somewhere else for a while. You eventually fall back onto your sleeping bag with tear-stained cheeks, looking up at the clouds as they are slowly covering the stars.
'Maybe there's a reason we pretend? Maybe the lies we tell each other are less horrible than the truths we keep hidden?... Chloe. Look at me. Look at me, sweetheart. It's going to be okay.'
'DAD!'
It's early morning. You've already packed up and are back on the trail, eating a granola bar. You cross a small gap in the path by using a log as a bridge to get across. Once over, you notice a deer grazing a few yards away.
You watch for a moment then remember the items you've packed. You take out your dad's Polaroid camera and take a picture. The deer looks up, hearing the sound of the camera and runs away into the bush. You look at the developing film, thinking that it could be a nice hobby to take up while you're here. It is nature n' shit. You place the picture in-between your journal pages and continue on your way.
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1996
Plans to run away with Rachel were delayed. You both see that finishing school is important and you can wait it out because it's easier with Rachel around. You notice that she's spending a lot of time at school doing extracurricular activities. You want her to spend more time with you because you hate being away from her. She says that she's doing important things for her future and it will be worth it for both of you in the end. You reluctantly agree and don't push it, you still hate being away from her and she promises the both of you will do something together on the weekend. It's the last time you ever see her.
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Summer of 1997 - Shoshone National Park
There's a full moon tonight as you arrive late at your destination. You look up at the national park's watchtower that's silhouetted by the moonlight. You think to yourself, ' Home Shit Home.' You walk up the four flights of stairs and notice some half-assed repairs to the railings. You don't care; your legs burn, you're tired, your pack weighs like a ton and you can't wait to take off your boots that have given you blisters. You just want to fall on the bed and pass out after the hike to get here.
You open the unlocked door and look inside. You're hit with an old wood smell. It's extra dark in the room with all the weather shutters closed but you see a red, glowing switch on the wall labeled 'Generator.' You flick it up. You hear the tower's generator come to life outside. The one ceiling light in the room turns on, giving everything a pale, yellow hue with heavy shadows.
You notice as you take off your pack that there are a few boxes marked 'Supplies' around the place and a Forest Service Handbook on a desk, along with a few dead flies. You feel the back of your shirt covered in sweat. It gives you some relief, feeling the coolness of the night air on it coming through the doorway. You feel so light on your feet with the weight finally off your back. You crack your neck and you're slightly startled to hear a voice in the room...
"Hello, Two Fork Tower," a female voice greets you.
You look down at the small desk and see a two-way radio on a charger.
You pick it up as the voice greets you again, "Two Forks Tower, this is Thorofare Tower... come in."
Who the fuck is this? You press the radio button to speak, "Uhm, Hey."
The voice replies, "Soo, you want to give your real name or a nickname, or do you want a new identity?..."
You, confused, reply, "What?"
"It's a tradition up here. You get to choose a name, ooor one of us chooses it for you. Sooo?"
You, not giving a shit because you're tired, sigh, "Dude, I don't care." You notice a moth flying around your ceiling light and you close the door.
"Hmm, that's no fun, come on," the woman encourages you.
You're not in the mood to play a game, so you monotonously reply, "Chloe..."
"Pff, fiiine, don't play. Well, Chloe, I'm Angel, your lead firewatcher on the mountain."
Chloe looked around the room and slowly blinked. She tiredly sighed again, "Yeah, that's what the guy said on the phone."
"So, what's wrong with you?" Angel asked.
Chloe furrowed her brow. What the fuck? She thought it wasn't best to swear at the person who might be her new boss since she technically just started the job, so she replied with only some attitude in her voice, "Excuse me?"
"People take this job to get away from something, or to start over," Angel stated. Chloe looked around the room, feeling a little uncomfortable. It then quickly changed to being pissed off. Angel continued, "So which one is it?"
Chloe's attitude grew. What the fuck is wrong with you? She lightly growled, annoyed, trying to hold her anger. I'm not dealing with this shit. "Look, I just hiked up this freakin' mountain. I don't really know what you're up to." Chole held her tongue on the next words and decided not to say them. Don't get fired.
Angel replied, flipping the question around, "You wanna hazard a guess at why I'm up here?"
Oh, Jesus, I don't give a fuck. Chloe controlled her anger and replied tiredly, "Fine, then can I sleep?"
Angel replied, "Sure, Sista. Now, go ahead." For some reason, Chloe could tell that the young woman was smiling from the sound of her voice. The tired hiker randomly came up with the first thing in her head, not giving a fuck, "You've killed three boyfriends. You're a black widow and you're out here until the heat dies down and then you'll kill again."
"Ouu, not bad, not bad at all."
What the fuck ever. "Okay. I sleep now?"
"Nooot quite. Now you."
No, fuck this. "Nope."
Angel didn't give up, "Let's see… I don't know anything about you, but nine times out of ten people out here to run away from something."
Chloe clenched her jaw and squeezed the radio in her hand. Fuck you. She wouldn't give in and let her know why she was out here. The blue-headed punk replied in a monotone voice, "Is that it?"
Again, Angel didn't give up, "Am I at least close?"
Chloe had enough. "G'night."
Angel huffed into a small chuckle, knowing that she'd pushed the newcomer. "Good night, Chloe. Welcome to the watch."
