With every step forward, Daniella's heart pounded harder, her body shaking with unease. For the hundredth time that morning, she checked the map her faculty advisor had given her. The map, which he had said would lead her to a particularly active butterfly breeding ground, was old and worn from years of use. Her advisor was nearing retirement, after all.
She paused as she stared at the map and checked her compass again. She was deep in the forested mountains and had been hiking for over four hours already. She had always been good at orienteering, and while there wasn't a well-marked trail to follow, she had easily found the landmarks notated on the map.
She had crossed the slow-moving, lazy late summer river. She had skirted the sheer cliff face that resembled a sleeping giant. Then had come a wide flat meadow dotted with lupine and snow drops. And now, she was in the middle of a large wooded mountain, following the winding path of a small stream.
She was definitely going in the right direction. But the forest around her felt wrong. The trees around her were old growth, very old. They towered far above her and seemed almost to stare down at her with cold malice.
Some time ago — she's wasn't sure when — the forest had grown eerily quiet. The summertime hum of crickets and cicadas had petered out. The chirps and squawks of woodland birds had gone silent. The high mountain chipmunks that were usually so curious about hikers, or at the very least put up a fuss if you came too close their nests, were nowhere to be found.
Daniella drew in a deep, shuddering breath and tried to slow her racing heart. In the unnaturally still woods there was nothing to muffle the sound of her harsh breathing. She wondered a little wildly how far the sound of her panting breaths would carry. She tried to quiet her thoughts. Panicking was a surefire way to a quick, pointless, and preventable death in the wilderness.
She sipped her water and inhaled deeply until her breathing and heart were a little more under control. With her mind a bit clearer, she looked again at the map and mentally traced her path that morning. She was confident she had followed the map correctly, but she had been hiking for hours now and it didn't feel like she was headed toward anywhere butterflies would congregate. There would be one last landmark to look out for, a grove of aspen trees tucked into a sharp bend in the stream she was following, and then she should be there.
Daniella put her water back in her pack and took stock of herself. She loved hiking and ran regularly, and she was just on the edge between a runner's high and the long slide into true fatigue. Her legs were starting to get a light burn from exertion, but she felt good and nothing truly hurt.
She had started out early and by the looks of the map her destination wasn't far. She just needed to keep herself from getting spooked over nothing and she would be able to document what her advisor had promised to be the most incredible butterfly gathering of her young career.
Daniella pulled her silky strawberry blonde hair out of her ponytail and combed her fingers through it to sooth herself before tying it back up in a messy bun. Bolstered by her short rest, the young ecologist continued up the mountainside.
An hour after passing the aspen grove and sharp bend in the river, Daniella stopped again. Now she was certain of it; she should have arrived at the butterfly breeding grounds by now. She had been hiking for over half the day and if the map was drawn to scale, she had been close to reaching her destination the last time she had stopped.
The aspen grove was practically drawn on top of her destination. There was no way it should have taken more than twenty minutes to find the butterfly breeding grounds once she had passed the unmistakable bend in the river.
The tension and fear Daniella had worked so hard to suppress all morning bloomed outward from her heart and settled sourly in her stomach. She didn't want to admit it, but there was no other explanation: she was lost.
The sun was high in the sky now, shining with the full intensity of high summer, but she was practically freezing. She rubbed her bare arms as she walked, more unnerved than ever. The sky was clear, bright blue without a hint of cloud cover. She should have been sweating.
She had dressed for summer in a sports bra, mesh hiking shirt and shorts, and had even brought a small towel in case she wanted to take a dip along the way. She rubbed her arms in a futile effort to warm herself up and forced herself to walk faster. She just needed to get her blood pumping a bit more, she told herself.
Before long, Daniella was shivering so hard it was getting difficult to walk. She didn't want to admit it, but it was time to give up. She unfolded her map again, staring in mute frustration at it. With a shaking fingers she unzipped her backpack and shoved the map inside. It was already early afternoon and if she wanted to make it back to her car by nightfall, she needed to turn around.
Maybe her advisor hadn't gone in a long time and the butterflies had chosen a new breeding ground. She blew a sigh through her nose and started retracing her steps, keeping the stream she had followed through the woods in view.
Within minutes she entered the aspen grove and saw the creek bending sharply. Daniella paused and looked at her watch. She had hiked past the grove for an hour and it had taken her ten minutes to return to it. She frowned. Maybe the cold weather had made her sluggish? She shook her watch to wind it, just in case.
Daniella picked up her pace, eager to clear the grove and get back down the trail toward home. The complete stillness and silence for the last several hours combined with the bone-chilling weather had been enough. Now she was starting to wonder if dehydration or nerves were messing with her head.
Daniella checked her watch again. She had been half-walking, half-running through the aspen grove for over ten minutes. The bend in the river still seemed to be right ahead of her. That couldn't be right. Daniella broke into a run, lungs burning from cold and heart pumping wildly from fear and exertion.
The tall, white trees became blurred shapes as tears filled her eyes, while the stream remained a constant flicker of silver to her left. When she couldn't keep up her pace she slowed to a jog and finally a walk. She checked her watch in disbelief. She had been in the aspen grove for half an hour and it still stretched endlessly before her.
Daniella wanted to sit down and cry. She was exhausted and confused. She trudged forward slowly. The run had leeched the terror from her body, leaving behind burning lungs, parched throat and gnawing hunger. As soon as she felt cooled down enough to stop moving without cramping up, she crumpled into herself on the ground with her back to one of the trees.
Since there was nobody there to see her, Daniella let her unshed tears roll down her face. The only person who knew where she had gone was her faculty advisor, and he wouldn't register her absence until at least Monday or even Tuesday. She didn't have any roommates or a boyfriend to raise the alarm if she didn't return from a hike. Her parents lived in another state and she only called home for holidays and birthdays, so they wouldn't notice she was missing for months.
Daniella wiped her tears and pulled her lunch out of her backpack. She had planned to eat once she reached the butterflies, and she was starving now.