You'll Thank Me for This by Nina Siegal (top novels txt) 📗

her. She was standing in the middle of a large sand drift, with echoing ridges of white sand that, in places, looked like high waves, frozen at the moment when a surfer would ride them. She had half of the map in her pocket but not the half that showed this spot. Still, she knew the layout of the park well enough to know that to get to the campsite she had to head northwest. Wherever that was.

The compass was what she needed. But where was it? It wasn’t in her jacket pocket, where she was sure she had put it last. She had searched through her backpack, knowing already that it wasn’t there, and of course did not find it. Could it have fallen out of her pocket when she had the tussle with Dirk on the trail? That was just messed up. She was without a map or a compass.

Now that the sun was down she couldn’t use that as a guide either. The sky was really cloudy, so it was hard to see the stars too. She sat herself down on a cushion of green moss on one of the dunes and tilted her head back. Was that it? No, that must be a plane. She tried to find a spot without clouds where she could look. There—that must be it. Or was that Saturn?

Well, she’d call that one the North Star. Maybe it wasn’t, but it was her best guess, ’cause it was all she could actually see. So if that was north, then that must be northwest, down this dune, over that sand drift, near where that huge downed tree was. She could get there. But she also knew it was going to be farther than it seemed.

Her father had told her that these sand drifts in the Veluwe were “rare outcroppings” for an inland landscape. High dunes nowhere near the sea. He’d said they were ancient to this forest, dating to the Ice Age. Really super-early farmers may have caused these sand drifts by destroying the land, by tearing up the soil. “Wow, people have always ruined, like, everything,” Karin had said at the time. Her father had laughed in that proud way he had. “Well, not everything,” he said.

It was really fine sand, and as she tried to walk across it, she kind of felt like her feet were being swallowed up. It was step, sink, and lift. Step, sink, and lift. But she could handle it. She had strong hockey legs. It would just take time.

She knew the names of some of the things around her, and to comfort herself, she tried to remember them. She liked the word for the soft dewy green moss that covered the rocks in the sand drifts: “maidenhair.” That one sort of made her blush. And she remembered the name of all the lacy-looking stuff that grew on bark and stones: “lichen.” The forest she needed to hike through to get to the campsite was called De Plijmen. She could see the dense, dark tangle of trees from here, as a cluster of shadows. Due west in the Otterlose Forest was where the Scout leaders would be with their tents.

As she walked, she couldn’t help but notice dark rain clouds moving in from the direction she was headed. The more she watched, the darker they seemed to become, and they were sort of building up on each other, like, well, a building. Oh no. It was just one thing after another, wasn’t it?

Where was she going to hide from a storm in the middle of the sand drift? If she had time, she might be able to run around and find some dry wood and make a tiny shelter. But that seemed out of her league, and she’d have to do it fast. Her best bet was to run as quickly as she could into the surrounding forest, at least get some cover from trees. Walking was already hard—but running?

Fighting back the urge to start crying—she didn’t have time now, with those clouds moving in—she took off her backpack again and tried to find anything she could use as a tent. The adults had taken the real tents to the campsite so the kids wouldn’t have to carry them on their hike, but now Karin thought about what a stupid plan that was. What if something like this happened?

She dug around in her bag until she felt the emergency yellow rain poncho she had put in the bottom. It was thin but water resistant and long enough that it would work as a tarp if she could find some way to prop it open over her. Now the real question was, should she make a run for it? Or should she stay put?

Karin wondered what her father would do. They’d waited out many a rainstorm in the park together, but usually in the car, which was often not so far from their tent. And what had the Scouts taught her about what to do during foul weather? Hm. The main thing she could remember was to try to stay close to the other Scouts, use a tarp, and huddle in a circle to keep warm. That advice wasn’t much use now. Karin decided to make a run for it. The edge of the forest didn’t seem that far away; she might even make it before the downpour.

She put her backpack on again, stood up, threw her oversized rain poncho over her head, over her jacket and backpack, so the hood rested on her forehead but the rest of it was like a cape, flying out behind her. She held on to the bottom of it with both hands. Then she backed up a few steps, took a running leap, and flew off the side of the sand drift.

She felt the first drops of rain fall on her head, heavy like pennies. Oh no. She looked up to see that the sky was almost completely black. Karin