“I guess so.” It didn’t seem like anybody at the zoo would be forgiving of Karen’s deception. “If they figured it out,” Lizzie added.
“But then she let them go.”
“Yeah.” It was the same as stealing zoo animals, probably. Maybe even worse … and yet it had seemed so wonderful, so overpoweringly right, to see the wolves running free. Lizzie’s heart flipped at the memory of it.
“What if she’d given them too much of that stuff by mistake?” Tyler continued. “What if she’d really killed them?”
“That would have been terrible,” Lizzie said. “But she didn’t. She saved them.”
“I know!” Tyler exclaimed. “That’s what’s crazy. She did this terrible thing, but for a good reason. To let them go.”
Lizzie’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think people at the zoo will see it that way.”
“Not even your dad?”
Lizzie thought about Mike, about how hard he worked to make sure the animals stayed safe and healthy.
“No,” she said. “Not even my dad. The zookeepers are supposed to keep the animals, you know? What she did was dangerous. My dad would say it was irresponsible.”
Tyler was quiet, watching her. “Are you going to tell him?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. She couldn’t imagine not telling Mike something so important. But then Karen would certainly get fired, or maybe even go to jail. And what if he and the other keepers came to capture the wolves and took them back to the pen at the zoo? She couldn’t imagine that, either.
“You think they can survive here?” Tyler asked. “I mean, they’re used to being in the zoo, where they get fed and everything.”
She looked at him, startled.
“What, you’re surprised I thought of that?” He sounded hurt.
“No,” she said quickly, “you’re right—that is a big problem when they release animals back into the wild.” Her dad had told her about the challenges of rehabilitation; the animals had to learn how to hunt, how to identify danger, how to protect themselves. “But these wolves are different,” she said. “They weren’t born and raised in the zoo. They all came from the wild, and then they were captured because they got injured by cars, or shot at by ranchers for killing cows and sheep. So being in the zoo saved their lives.”
Tyler looked skeptical. “If putting something in a cage saves it.” He took a long gulp of water, finishing the bottle.
Lizzie said nothing. She screwed the cap back on the empty bottle, staring out over the valley. In the far distance, the curved helmet of rock that formed Half Dome glowed in the morning sun. She thought of John Muir’s journals, his rhapsodic odes to nature. Always in his writing, Yosemite appeared as a sacred landscape, almost like a church or temple. In Lizzie’s dingy, cramped sixth-grade classroom, it was hard to fathom that, but here, amid the redwood spires and the glittering mosaics of rock, it seemed exactly right.
As if reading her mind, Tyler said, “That cabin is here somewhere.”
Lizzie nodded.
“Don’t you wish we could find it?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “Maybe someday we will.”
“It would be cool to live out here on your own,” Tyler said wistfully. “With nobody bugging you, and all this around.” He gestured at the valley. “I can see why that guy Muir liked it.”
“Me too,” Lizzie said. “But I think it would get lonely.”
Tyler seemed about to disagree, but then he stood and tilted his head. “Do you hear that? It sounds like water.”
“Really?” Lizzie listened to the morning quiet. She thought she did hear something. A low burbling. “Let’s head that way. We can clean off, and sometimes there are trails by the creeks.”
“I don’t need to clean off,” Tyler scoffed. “I showered yesterday.” But he led the way down the slope, crashing through the brush.
Lizzie stumbled after him.
Late summer was the dry season, a time when the park’s smaller streams and waterfalls sometimes dried up. But as they wound their way down the other side of the hill, the rushing noise heightened, and then Lizzie saw the creek. It was shallow but wide, with water swirling over rocks. On the opposite side, two mule deer were drinking. They raised their graceful heads in tandem, and stared at Lizzie and Tyler with moist, dark eyes.
“Hey,” Tyler said in a hushed voice, grabbing Lizzie’s elbow.
Ears pricked, the deer watched them for a minute. Then they ambled away into the brush.
“Lizzie, look.” Tyler kicked the charred remnants of a fire. “Somebody’s been here.”
Lizzie glanced around. Surely they couldn’t be too far from civilization if they’d found a campsite. She stripped off Tyler’s extra T-shirt and squatted on the muddy bank, splashing cold water over her arms and face. She shivered despite the warmth of the air. “Hand me the bottle,” she told him.
Tyler studied the frothy water. “Is it okay to drink that?”
Lizzie knew there was a risk of parasites but she figured the risk of dehydration was stronger. The sun was high and the temperature was climbing. “We may not have a choice,” she said, dipping the bottle into the creek.
When she’d finished filling it, Tyler took it from her and unzipped his backpack to tuck the T-shirt and bottle inside.
“Did you hear that?” he asked. He looked around uneasily.
“What?”
“Something in the bushes.”
Lizzie heard nothing but the sound of the water, churning over the rocks.
“Is it the deer?”
“They’re on the other side of the creek.”
Then Lizzie did hear it, a rustling some distance behind them. “Maybe it’s whoever was camping here,” she said uncertainly.
Then her whole body tensed. About twenty yards away, poised on the bank of the creek and looking straight at them, was Lobo.
Chapter 24
“RUN!”
THE BIG WOLF stood perfectly still, his silver-gray fur catching the sunlight, the dark streak on his forehead more prominent than ever. His pale eyes bored into them. Lizzie had spent so much time watching Lobo that everything about him was familiar to her, and her heart leapt with recognition. At first, all she could feel was joy—joy that he was alive, that he was free, that he was standing here in front of her. He stared at her with the same steady intensity he’d always had. She remembered the terror of the night at the clinic, when she’d thought he was dead. She took a step toward him.
Tyler caught her arm. “What are you doing?” he whispered in a panic. “Run!”
He stumbled along the bank of the creek, dragging her with him. A huge rock blocked their way, and Tyler scrabbled up the side. Lizzie stopped at its base and turned. You couldn’t outrun a wolf. She knew that. Their only hope was that Lobo wouldn’t follow.
She saw that the wolf was swiftly crossing the creek, passing as lightly over the water as if it were land. Moments later, the brush on their side of the water rustled and Tamarack’s white form appeared. They were together. She crossed the stream behind Lobo, heading through the bushes where the deer had been grazing minutes before. With a shiver, Lizzie realized that they were hunting.
“Look at them!” she said to Tyler.
“They’re going after those deer,” Tyler said, sliding back down the rock to the ground. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked past her, at the other side of the creek, where the two wolves had disappeared in the foliage. “I wonder what it’s like for them.”
She turned to him. “You mean to be out in the wild again?”
He shook his head. “No … I mean to kill something and eat it. They probably haven’t done that in a long time, you know?”
Lizzie thought about that, the special kind of intelligence and attention it must take for a predator to track and catch its prey. It was a skill the wolves never used in a zoo. And yet everything about them was wired to do exactly that. For humans, it would be like someone who was a great swimm
er never being allowed in the water, or someone who was a musician never having the chance to play. It was true for all of the predators in the zoo—the wolves, the tiger, the cougar. In a cage, they could never do the one thing they were born to do.
“Well, I’m just glad they’re okay,” Lizzie said, studying the opposite bank, where the wolves had vanished.
Tyler swallowed. “If they’re okay enough to hunt the deer, they’re okay enough to hunt us.”
Lizzie recoiled. “Tyler, they’re not going to hunt us.”
“What are you talking about? You already forgot that night Lobo tried to attack us through the fence? There’s no fence here.” He paused. “We’re sitting ducks.”
“Oh, come on. Why would the wolves go after us when there are deer around? And rabbits, and all the other animals they like to eat.”
“Cuz we’re not as fast as deer! Or rabbits.” Tyler climbed over the rocks and started to walk quickly along the bank of the creek. “And could be we’re tastier.”
Lizzie didn’t want to think about that. “That’s silly,” she said.
“Who knows,” Tyler continued. “Maybe they’re already hunting us. Maybe they followed us here.”
Lizzie frowned into the trees along the opposite bank. “I think they’re looking for Athena. You heard them howling last night. I mean, Lobo was staring right at us, and he didn’t do anything.”
“Maybe he wasn’t hungry enough yet,” Tyler said. “Hang around and find out for yourself—I’m getting out of here.”
He forged on through the tall grass and brambles that bordered the creek. Lizzie trotted after him.
“Hey, wait up!” she called. “I see a sign. There is a trail here.”
She crashed through the brush toward a narrow dirt path, where a brown wooden sign was posted. In white letters, with an arrow pointing left, it read: YOSEMITE VILLAGE 4 MILES. Beneath that, with an arrow pointing right, it read: TENAYA CREEK 4 MILES, and NEVADA FALL 3 MILES.
Jubilant, she grabbed Tyler’s arm. “We did it! We found the trail to Yosemite Village! Now we can go down there and call my dad.”
Her pulse quickened at the thought of Mike. She wanted to hear his voice, to tell him she was all right. “This way,” she told Tyler.
She struck out in the direction of Yosemite Village, thinking that four miles would take them a while, especially if the terrain was as rough as this.
Then she realized that Tyler wasn’t following her. “What’s the matter? Do you want me to take the backpack?” she called.
He was still standing in front of the sign, a strange expression on his face.
“Tyler,” she said impatiently. “Four miles is still pretty far. If it’s hilly, that will take us a couple of hours.”
He was clutching the strap of the backpack, staring at the sign. “Look,” he said, tapping it with his finger. “Tenaya Creek.”
“Yeah, so? That’s the wrong direction.”
“That’s where the cabin is,” he said slowly. “John Muir’s lost cabin.”
Lizzie walked back to face him, squinting into the sunlight. “Yeah, that’s right. One of the places it might be.” She tried to read his expression. “We can’t do that now, Tyler. We have to call my dad. He’ll come get us and take us home.”
“Take you home.”
She stared at him, filled with a new, dawning realization. “Well, okay, but he’ll take us both back to Lodisto. And then…” Her voice trailed off.
“And then he’ll call the cops and I’ll be back in foster care.” Tyler’s hand on the strap of the backpack tightened into a fist.
“Come on,” Lizzie said carefully. “It’s not like that.”
He finally turned to her, and his eyes were huge and hopeless. “Yeah, it is. I’m not going back.”
She could read his posture as clearly as she could tell that Lobo had been about to attack that night at the zoo. Tyler was ready to bolt. She stood perfectly still in front of him, as if the slightest movement or sound would frighten him away. “What do you mean?” she said.
“You heard me.”
“But Tyler … we can’t stay here. In the park? That’s crazy.”
“We were fine last night.”
“Not really,” Lizzie protested. “We were cold. We were afraid a bear would get our food. And you just finished telling me that the wolves are hunting us.”
“And you said they’re not,” Tyler countered.
“Well, what do I know? You never listened to me before.” Lizzie could feel her temper rising. “This is ridiculous. What are you planning to do, live the rest of your life here in the woods?”
“If I have to.” Tyler’s mouth clamped into a stubborn line. He turned away from her and started quickly up the trail in the direction of Tenaya Creek.
“Well, I’m going to Yosemite Village,” Lizzie yelled after him. “And I’m calling my dad. And then we’ll get a big search party together and come find you.”
“You’ll never find me!” He whirled around, eyes blazing. For a minute, they faced each other, both seething. Then he continued on his way, his T-shirt flashing through the trees.
Lizzie felt suddenly furious. She thought of everything she had done for him, taking the blame for the stolen tray, getting him food at the snack bar, giving him a safe place to stay at the apartment. And now he was abandoning her in the middle of the woods? With wolves on the loose? She wasn’t even sure she could find her way to Yosemite Village by herself. And he had the water.
She stormed after him. “You’re a horrible person!” she shouted.
“Then leave me alone!” he shouted back, stomping angrily through the brush.
“I will!”
“Go ahead!”
“Okay, I’m leaving!”
She strode briskly in the other direction, when she heard him say, “That’s what everyone else does.”
The anger leaked out of her like air from a punctured balloon. Turning, she saw the slump of his shoulders. He kept walking away from her.
“Tyler. Wait.”
He was a dozen yards away now, dappled by the splotches of sunlight sifting through the trees. But he pivoted to face her, his face full of distrust.
“Where are you going?” she asked quietly.
“To John Muir’s lost cabin.” His voice was firm.
Lizzie sighed. She thought of her own mother, leaving by accident; fate; a thing that couldn’t be changed.
Sometimes you had a choice.
She cast one long, regretful glance backward at the path to Yosemite Village and civilization.
“Okay,” she decided. “I’m coming with you.”
Tyler’s eyes widened. “Why?”
She shrugged. “I just am.”
“Really?”
She took the backpack from him and slid it over her own shoulder. They started together up the twisting path in the direction of Tenaya Creek.
“What makes you think we’ll find it?” she asked.
Tyler grinned at her, looking suddenly much more like himself. “I just do,” he said. “We’re a good team. I helped you figure out what happened to the wolves, didn’t I? Now you can help me find the cabin.”
Lizzie sighed, knowing she couldn’t leave him. He’d been left too often in the past, and the past was a thing you carried with you all the time, like a burr stuck to your heel. The only way to change it was to create a new past, out of what was happening right now.
Maybe she could be that for Tyler: a new past. The one who stayed.
She followed close behind him, as the sun blazed above them and the woods beckoned them deeper and deeper, toward Tenaya Creek.
Chapter 25
NATURE’S PEACE
THEY FOLLOWED THE path through trees and dense brush, with the sun hot on their backs. Lizzie felt thirsty again, and it worried her, because they only had one bottle of good water left—and the water from the creek if they got desperate. Now that they were on a trail, she had hoped to see hikers, but the
area was deserted. They must be in a remote region of the park … which would make sense, she realized. Karen wouldn’t have released the wolves near public campgrounds.
The wolves! Lobo and Tamarack had been so close. She thought of the way they delicately skimmed over the water. She wanted to write about it in her journal and describe it the way John Muir would: their feet barely touching the surface, their focus so intent on the deer. But Tyler was right about Lobo. He had tried to attack them once before. And her father had warned her throughout her childhood: These animals were wild. No matter how well you thought you knew them, no matter how strong the bond you’d forged, they were ultimately driven by instinct. Lizzie had heard terrifying stories of zoo animals injuring their keepers. Mike had never shielded her from those, because he wanted her to understand and respect the animals’ essential natures.
Mike. What would he be thinking now? It had been a full day since he’d last seen her. He had no idea where she was. She watched Tyler’s thin frame bouncing along the path in front of her. Somebody was missing him, too; she felt sure of it.
“How much farther to Tenaya Creek, do you think?” Tyler asked, waiting for her at a bend in the trail.
She joined him, rubbing her face in her T-shirt to wipe away the sweat.
“I don’t know. We’ve been hiking for a couple of hours. It’s hot, huh?”
He nodded. “Want me to take the backpack?” Before she could respond, he lifted the strap and she shrugged it free.
“We can rest when we get to the top,” he said.
Lizzie felt like they had been struggling uphill for hours, but she followed him in silence as the path zigzagged up the slope.
“Tyler.” She spoke to the back of his head, to his cap of wiry curls.
“Yeah?”
“What happened with your foster family?”
He was quiet, the backpack bobbing against him as he continued up the path. At first she wondered if he hadn’t heard her.
“I mean, why did you run away?”
He didn’t answer and Lizzie tried again. “Did somebody do something?”
“No! I already told you. It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what?”