Chapter 17 - Wishful Thinking

This was the third strike. Brad had regularly interrupted the handful of genuine moments of intimacy in the two days Lane had been at this camp. It was a grating personality trait. As Lane led the charge up the slopped trail back to the councilors' cabins, he could only imagine how his behavior could have escalated to cause Nina to panic.

"They just burst in," Nina panted out.

"Who?" Franki asked, keeping pace with the pixie girl.

"All of 'em. They just burst into the room, shouting, hollering, leering at us," Nina was wide eyed, shaking, and manic. Couldn't be helped. Moments before bridging an intimate connection with someone so new, toxic personalities flooded over Aiden and Nina.

With the setting sun on their backs, Lane bounded up the five steps to the deck. His eyes were locked on Brad squaring off against Aiden. Without a moment's hesitation, Lane's momentum carried him into the muscular blonde buzz-cut boy. Instinct took over. His reflexes snapped into place. Years of training, practice, beaten into Lane's muscles, all reacted faster than his conscious mind.

First hit: Lane's open palm connected under Brad's jaw and gripped it tight.

Second: right foot planted behind Brad's non-dominate ankle.

Third: Lane's left hand took hold of Vegas' right wrist, swinging it across his chest and up into the air.

Last: The continued momentum drove Brad into the deck. Hard.

From the spectators in various states of undress, a wounded Aiden, and the three councilors trailing after Lane the whole impact looked like a blur of motion. One moment, Brad was about to slug Aiden. In an instant, Brad lay face up on the deck, groaning.

Lane stood back up to his full height and took a step back far from Brad's reach; "I think I've had my fair share of bullying, Brad. When you've caught your breath, let's go take a walk and pay Jude a visit. Or, we can sort this out like men."

"Or," Brad coughed out, the spittle of blood dripping out from his mouth, "You can suck a fat dick, Roswell."

Lane shifted back into a fighting stance as he caught Brandon sliding upon his peripheral. Hands up and ready to defend himself, Brandon immediately backed up; "What the hell, man?!" He said in shock. "You really are a space case, Roswell. We were just playing around. No need to go all psycho killer on, Vegas."

Nina interjected, "Lane's the psycho? How about barging in on Aiden and me!?"

Cole and Brandon helped Brad up to his feet, "Us?" Brad scoffed, wiping the blood from his chin, "We were being neighborly, social, wanting to connect with our fellow councilors. We were concerned that despite our team-building efforts, you two were hiding away from the rest of the group."

Aiden was breathing heavily; a black eye already visible, "Not everyone is as sexually open as you. Some of us prefer our privacy. The closed door should have been a hint."

"First, as your lead councilor, it's my job to show concern for my fellow councilors. Especially those who choose not to participate with the rest of the group; the lost, the anti-social, the lonely. Second, if I'd known you liked sucking dick, I'd offer you something with a bit more girth a lot sooner--"

Aiden rushed in with a haymaker, but it was Lane who held him back. Despite his skill and training, the larger man's sheer musculature nearly knocked Lane out cold. Staggering to catch his balance, Aiden helped Lane back on his feet.

"You heard what he said?! You heard him-- I can't--" Aiden cried out.

"I know!" Lane assured him, holding his jaw, "I know. But, he's baiting you into a conflict. Your honor, Nina's honor will hold. Don't take the bait."

Vegas chuckled, "I don't know, maybe we should settle this like men. Let your boy go, Lane. Let's see if Aiden's willing to fight for his little lover till the bitter end."

"No." Jordan shouted, "Enough of this playground shit. Vegas, Buffalo, both of you are going to Jude's cabin and will settle this like adults."

"Um, I don't remember hearing you got a promotion to--" Vegas started.

"Shut the fuck up, Bradley." Jordan stomped down stepping out between the two boys. She wore a sweatshirt over the same black, silk teddy she'd worn earlier. Her bare legs stood firmly planted in the middle of the conflict, but the sweatshirt covered up most of her modesty. "You and Aiden are heading to Jude's. I'll run the night game. And if there's anyone who dares question any of this, I get promoted when the current leader acts like a child. Anyone dare to challenge that?"

The deck was silent.

Lane stood beside Luna who'd already retrieved the first aid-kit from her backpack. She'd applied a cold pack to Aiden's left eye. The larger boy leaned against her and Nina for support.

The other councilors shifted their weight, pulled their jackets around themselves tighter. None dared to speak up.

Of course, it was Brad who broke the silence; "Fine," He said with a desperate laugh, "I suppose that's the... Mature, thing to do? Yeah. Come on Aiden, let's take a walk and talk it out over a cup of tea, or whatever."

"I'm not walking alone in the woods with that asshole," Aiden wheezed out.

"That's exactly what you're gonna do," Jordan commanded, "Or you can pack your bags right now and find something else to do with your summer."

Nina squeezed Aiden's hand, "It's okay," She whispered. "It'll be okay."

"Have a third party go along," Lane suggested.

Jordan spun around, "I'm sorry, did you get the impression this was a democracy?"

Lane insisted, "If they start brawling again, have an unbiased third party go with them to get Jude and settle it. Or in case they get injured. Rule of three. Basic safety--"

"Fine," Jordan interrupted, "Bozeman, go with 'em."

The mute boy shrugged and wandered over to the stairs after Brad and Aiden.

"Thank you, Jordan," Lane spoke with deference.

"Blow me," She replied, and marched to her cabin. "You all have until sundown to rest, get dressed out into hiking gear, close toed shoes and be out and ready on the deck. Sundown. Be ready. Now clear out and nobody better start anymore shit." With that final command, Jordan slammed the door to her cabin.

---

Nightfall came quicker than they'd expected, and there were still no signs of Aiden or Brad, or Bozeman. Thirteen councilors had become ten as Jordan led the group up the North West Trail. The dry winds blew harder and threw the colossal pines. Not so much a night symphony, but a steady racket of branches and leaves scratching together in the dark. As they crested the hill, a bright lantern light fifty meters into the clearing replaced the miniscule glow from the solar powered foot lamps that dotted the trail.

"You're on time, excellent," Doc called out from the base of a thick tree beside the lantern. He already had a climbing rig on and had thirteen other harnesses laid out upon a wooden table; three of which wouldn't be used.

"Where do you suppose Aiden is?" Julia asked Franki softly.

"Probably still sortin' shit out with Brad and Jude. There's a lot of issues there," Franki replied nonchalantly.

Nina was a wreck. She picked at the cuticles, scratched the black polish off her nails. Her eyeliner still smudged and streaked, "He's fine," she lied aloud to herself.

Luna hugged the nervous pixie, "Of course he's fine. Aiden can handle himself just fine. Jude probably had all parties sit this game out until everything was resolved."

"I know he can handle himself," Nina nodded, "What if they send him home early though? Brad has seniority. Aiden's only worked here for--"

"Actually," Julia cut in, "Aiden's a fourth year. Six if you count being a camper. Brad's only been here for three years as a councilor. If anyone's gonna be sent home, it'll be Brad for sure," Julia beamed.

Franki squeezed Julia's hand in hers, but her train of thought skipped a track, "Wait, if Brad's only been here three years, how'd he get Lead over Jordan--?" She clenched her jaw and winced. She remembered. The boy. The low ropes course. She'd barely been accepted back.

"Why?" Jordan called back from the head of the group, "Cause sometimes life ain't fair. Suck it up."

A few minutes and one drawn out safety tutorial later, and Doc had helped the team of ten get their harnesses on and ready to climb. He moved over to the thick tree closest to the lantern and lean-to equipment shack, "Now, traditionally this course is done in pairs. So line up with your partners and-"

"Hold on," Jordan interrupted with a hand in the air, "We're changing up partners for this exercise." A collective groan rose up from the group. It was silenced by a single, powerful clap from Jordan, "Enough bitching. Roswell and I are taking point, followed by Athens and Reno, Olypia and Topeka, Sydney and London, Tallahassee and Sitka--"

"Jordan, hold on, Alice is missin'," Zoe spoke up.

The group murmured to themselves. Lane searched the clearing. Had he miscounted? He was almost certain the silver haired girl had been among them before they left the staff cabins. Hadn't she worn a white version of that same prairie dress from earlier?

"Fine," Jordan interrupted the growing rumblings among the staff, "Tallashassee you're with Providence."

Lane counted the new pairing and eyed Luna standing alone with an annoyed smirk; "Jordan, what about Luna?"

"It's fine, Lane. I think I'll manage by myself, just to keep things moving," Luna offered.

"How considerate," Jordan scoffed with indifference, "Let's get this over with."

Lane was about to protest, but with a subtle gesture to hold his tongue, Luna assured him to drop the issue.

"Well, I'll be monitoring y'all from below so if you get stuck, just holler and I'll come lend you a hand," Doc offered, cutting through the tension, "Alright then, first pair step on up."

Jordan had gone first. She'd scrambled up the wooden pegs faster than he'd expected. Two years of AIRR Training, on top of regularly jumping out of helicopters for another two years after that and Lane still hated heights.

"Haven't got all night, Roswell," Jordan spoke as she climbed over the first obstacle segment. "We're setting the pace so everyone else can finish this thing."

After the initial platform nearly thirty meters above the ground, there wasn't just one obstacle course, but two. Those two obstacles branched off into two others, giving multiple routes to complete before reaching the finish. Of course, the difficulty of each section increased exponentially in both complexity and the fact that the only thing lighting their path were the pair of glow sticks around their arm. Add to that the persistent breeze and swaying trees; this challenge would be nothing short of harrowing.

"I expected more from a pilot, or whatever, Roswell," Jordan spoke as she carefully maneuvered across a tightrope, and through various horizontal beams of wood suspended in their path at varying levels of height.

Lane followed after Jordan, keeping one arm out to steady himself and the other clutched onto the two safety ropes attached to the parallel cable that ran above their heads. Swallowing his nerves, Lane politely corrected, "I wasn't ever technically a pilot. I was a Rescue Swimmer. Jumped out of helicopters--"

"Wasn't asking for your life story, just telling you to keep up," Jordan snapped.

Lane sighed. He wanted nothing more than to tell Jordan his life story. There were a million things he wanted to say, to ask, to share. Instead he walked to the end of the tightrope and joined Jordan on another two man platform. It was hardly big enough for both of them. Their elbows, thighs, waists rubbed together as they unclipped their carabiners from the previous obstacle, one after another, and hooked into the next challenge.

"This next one is longer than the others, no foot holds either. There's eight metal rods at inclines. The trick is to hang all the way on the edge and just drop straight down to the next bar. If you try swinging, fancy ass acrobatics, or whatever, you'll end up racking your chin or your neck on the next bar. Just climb out to the end, drop, catch the next bar, and repeat. Eight bars. Got it?" Jordan instructed.

"On your lead," Lane aquested.

Jordan unceremoniously reached out for the first bar and reached hand over hand onto the meter long pole. In the pale moonlight and her glow stick, Lane could just barely make out the next metal rod suspended by wires, but nothing else after that. Rolling cloud cover intermittently made the course almost pitch black.

"You must have done this a hundred times, huh?" Lane called out into the darkness as Jordan kept climbing. He could feel the tension on the safety cable above them. He knew she was there. Even if she'd disappeared into the dark, only a floating pink glow stick suggesting she was still only a few meters ahead of him.

After a long pause, Jordan's voice came through the darkness, "Set the course record last year. The hardest route: sub twenty minutes. Solo."

Twenty minutes? If Jordan's record was that long, factoring in how exhausted his muscles still were after the hike and obstacle course that morning and afternoon, they might end up being here a lot longer.

"That's impressive," Lane admitted, climbing out onto the first pipe. The steel rod was cold to the touch. The incline steeper and a lot more awkward to navigate than he anticipated. Reaching the end of the bar, he stretched his fingers out as far as he could. There wasn't anything there.

"Just reach out," Jordan sighed. "It's there. And just for future reference, flattery will get you absolutely nowhere."

Lane considered his play. As he held his hand out in anticipation, exhaling, he released his grip on the first bar. That freefall sensation sent his stomach up into his throat. He didn't even have time to scream, but the second his wrist grazed something cold and hard, Lane tightened his grip.

He dared to look down, like an idiot. Nothing but pitch blackness. He could have a meter off the ground or a mile up and that dizzying sensation of vertigo would have been exactly the same. There was no way of telling how high they were, only that hanging by a single steel pole felt like his body had tripled in weight and should he let go he'd fall forever.

"Great, you've made it to two of eight. Seriously, thought you'd grown up braver," Jordan chuckled. "Keep climbing," she added in a sing-song voice. The sentiment may have been just as bitter, but the tone sounded pleasant enough.

"Speaking of growing up..." Lane started.

Jordan cut him off, "No. We're not trading back stories. We're focusing on the present. Finish the challenge. Go back to sleep. Wake up. Repeat."

Fine. Lane relented, dropping down onto his fourth pole. He could hear the distant whispers of the other councilors on the other branching obstacle course. One of the girls sounded like they were either laughing or crying. He couldn't make out who. Their voices seldom rose above the wind and scratching branches. Lane could barely make out the other points of light, neon colored wrist bands either. Just as well, he couldn't afford to be distracted. Focus on the present.

"So has Jude always been... Purposefully underhanded when it comes to training week, or is that a new development?" Lane tried his luck hoping to take a shot at a common adversary. He'd seen the few interactions Jordan and Jude had with one another. They were cold, uncomfortably so. That, combined with the obvious favoritism of Brad, Jude seemed like an easy target and last hope for Jordan opening up to Lane.

"What do you mean, exactly?" Jordan spoke. Her hiking boots landed hard onto wood a few meters ahead. Lane could just barely see a greyish outline of the young woman up ahead.

Lane chose his words as carefully as his timing when dropping to the next bar, "It's pretty obvious Brad did not write the clues for this morning's team building course. That first one, it seemed intentionally designed to get under your skin."

"I told you," Jordan almost growled, "We're not talking about the past."

"We're not," Lane assured her, "I wanna understand why Jude is the way he is."

Jordan was now mostly visible as Lane dangled down onto the eight bar, "What's there to understand? He's an asshole. End of story."

Lane climbed up the last inclined pole. Jordan's face was now visible enough to get a read on; she was upset, but there was something else at the corner of her eyes. Something... sad? Regret?

"He's just an asshole with the perfect little family, perfect little wife and daughter, working in the position I've always wanted. He's just the kind of guy who has to rub it in everyone's face," Jordan lamented.

With his muscles burning, he finally released his grip on the last pole and dropped onto the wooden platform beside Jordan. "Have you met his wife? His kid?"

Jordan huffed out a puff of air, "Yeah. They live with him at his onsite residential house. Haven't seen 'em this year, but..." She drifted off, focusing on the obstacle ahead, "...But, it doesn't matter. They'll show eventually at the end of training week like always. Happy little family showing off for all us happy counselors and campers."

Lane waited, listening to Jordan's perspective, her change in tone. This was a side of her that he'd yet to see. This wasn't just regret. It almost sounded like jealousy. But, Lane wasn't about to work off assumptions. He needed facts. Data. Some semblance of a lead to start his investigation.

"So he's got a family," Lane acknowledged, "Doesn't give him the right to play mind games, or needlessly sow discourse in his employees."

"You wouldn't think so," Jordan agreed, leaping out onto a suspended swing, "But that doesn't stop him from doing so." Having built up enough momentum, Jordan released the bar at its furthest point. When the rod swung back, it came back empty. "Wait till I reach the other side. It's easier if the bars aren't in motion."

"Okay," Lane agreed.

The wind continued to blow. The trees swayed. Lane found himself clutching the trunk of the tree the thin wooden platform was attached to. Barely wide enough to plant both his feet onto, Lane's knees begin to shake. With the exception of a few hours rest, he'd nearly been up for forty-eight hour straight. No amount of coffee could reinvigorate Lane's steadily declining stamina. Still, he had to finish this course to the end. More importantly Lane still needed some clue into Jude's psyche.

Maybe the fact that he was married, a father even would be enough? It was at least a start, and another pair of witnesses to glean information from. When they'd finished up with this course, he might stroll by the residential cabins and pay the Abidalli family a visit.

Jordan and Lane completed half a dozen more obstacles. Each more insane than the last. Uneven bars, an inclined cargo net, and sandbags that acted as a painful gauntlet of windchimes that beat against them on a zig-zagging tightrope that swung forcefully in the wind. At last, they reached what Lane counted as the tenth obstacle. Try as he might, squinting in the dark, he couldn't make out a tightrope, or any sign of the next obstacle in the dark. He could hardly make out the guide rope above them.

"So, what's the trick to this one?" Lane asked, trying to solve it himself, to no avail.

There was a heavy pause. The wind continued to push its way violently through the pines. The oppressive, unrelenting darkness of the moonless night surrounded them.

"Lane," Jordan breathed out. She didn't look directly at him, instead searching the night for some unseen clarity, "You really love Luna, right?"

Lane was taken so far off guard, he nearly slipped off the thin platform. Swallowing hard, he nodded, "She's family. Couldn't have asked for a better sister, and surprisingly I got three of them, but, yeah. Luna and I are..." He thought for a moment, "Couldn't imagine life without her. Why?"

Jordan shifted uncomfortably close to Lane, "You think you could ever fall for someone more than your sister?"

With a stifled laugh, "I mean, I haven't fallen for Luna. She's family. She's my sister, Jordan," He tried to meet her eyes, but Jordan was still fixated on something ahead of him.

The wind stopped blowing.

The other councilors' voices were miles away.

There was only Jordan and Lane.

Then, with her nose nearly touching Lane's, Jordan asked, "Would you ever fall for me?"

Lane's heart nearly exploded out of his chest. His mind had been so intently focused on solving the mysteries that pumpled him one after another. He stood in the shallows of an unfamiliar ocean while the tide began to rise. With each darkwave that passed over him, his lack of understanding threatened to drown Lane in the unknown before he even had a chance to kick up off the ground. Now, standing beside his first love, thirties meters in the air, in the dead of night, he could hardly breathe.

Unfortunately for Lane, his rational mind spoke his heart had a chance of speaking up; "Jordan, you were my first kiss. I've never forgotten that night. But, that was more than a decade ago. We're entirely different people now. I can't afford to just fall for a stranger. I'd like to get to know you. I want to know who you are now first."

He could taste her breath as she sighed in frustration; "Well, far for me anyway."

Without any warning, Jordan pushed Lane off the platform and he plummeted into the darkness below like an anchor.