I have to pee again.
It was bad enough when I was in the car and I knew Noah was going to yell at me. But this is so much worse. Where am I supposed to go to the bathroom around here? I don’t foresee us running into a Porta-John anytime in the near future.
“Lindsay,” I murmur. “Do you… do you need to go to the bathroom?” “Yes!” she cries. “Oh my God, desperately! What are we supposed to
do?”
“I think…” I take a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to go in the
woods.”
Lindsay bites her lip. “I don’t know if I can do that, Claire.”
I don’t know if I can either. But I’m not seeing much of a choice at this point. There’s only so long I can hold it.
“We have to tell the guys to wait for us.” I squint at them, far ahead of us—and getting farther and farther every second. “Jack! Noah!”
“Warner!” Lindsay calls.
Naturally, Noah ignores me. But after a few seconds, Jack turns around and waves at us. “Everything okay?” he calls back.
I don’t want to yell over to them that Lindsay and I need the bathroom. So I jog over and Lindsay follows close behind. “We need the bathroom,” I say quietly, as soon as I’m within earshot.
Noah rolls his eyes. But at least he doesn’t comment on how I should’ve used the bathroom back at the diner. He’s just lucky he’s a guy. They have it so much easier—they don’t even have to pull down their pants.
Warner raises his eyebrows. “There are no bathrooms around here.” “I know,” I say tightly. “But we need to stop and… you know…”
“Oh.” Jack shoves his hands into his pockets. “Well, we’ll wait over here for you. Take your time.”
I glance off into the woods. I really, really don’t want to do this. “But how…?”
Warner smirks. “You squat. It’s not hard, ladies.”
I cannot believe this is how my day is going. Part of me wants to just say to hell with it, I’ll hold it in. But another part of me is worried that a violent sneeze will soak my shorts. And it’s not like I have a change of clothes.
“Fine,” I say. “Michelle, do you need to go?” “No, thanks,” she says.
Of course she doesn’t need to go. The woman is a robot. I squeeze my hands together. “Okay then…”
“Try to stand facing downhill,” Jack says. “I’ve heard it reduces the chances of getting urine on your clothing.”
Noah snorts at the look on my face. He thinks it’s hilarious I have to do this. Well, to hell with him. I’ll squat if I have to.
At least I’ve got a pack of tissues in my purse.
Lindsay and I go find a private area to do our business. I pick a tree that looks thick enough to conceal me, and Lindsay does the same. I pull my shorts down and go as carefully as I can manage. Considering I’ve never done this before, I think I do a fair job.
After I zip my shorts up, I grab onto the tree for balance, the wood biting into my palm. As I pull my hand away, I notice five deep grooves in the splintered bark.
Claw marks.
Except these marks weren’t made by a little bunny. The marks are long and deep. The claws that broke the bark were obviously extremely sharp. And there’s a second set of claw marks above the first. Was something climbing the tree?
I raise my eyes. I see nothing but leaves above me. But behind me, I hear a rustling sound.
“Claire?”
I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of Lindsay’s voice. Her brows are scrunched together and she looks at me. “Is everything okay? Were you able to pee?”
I run my fingers over the deep grooves in the bark. “Look at this.”
Lindsay’s eyes widen as she stares at the distinctive marks. “Oh my God. What animal do you think did it?”
I have no idea. All I know is I don’t want to come across the animal that made that.
I have this overpowering urge to keep moving, but Lindsay insists on going back to the others to show them the claw marks. I follow her, but I don’t really want to keep looking at those marks. I want to get as far away as possible from the animal that made them.
Jack is rolling his eyes until he sees the marks on the tree. For a moment, he looks rattled. He runs his hand over the deep grooves. “Wow,” he says.
“Do you think it’s a bear?” Lindsay asks.
“Maybe.” Jack frowns at the claw marks as he runs his hand over them. “Black bears are known for marking trees. But…”
I raise my eyebrows. “What?”
“I would think claw marks from a bear would be a lot higher up on the tree,” he says. “It could have been a small bear. Or… something else.”
I don’t know whether to feel better or worse about it. Bears are scary. But at the same time, their behavior is predictable. We know what bears are capable of. We don’t know what some mystery animal with long, sharp claws is capable of.
“Anyway…” Jack takes a step back from the tree. “Most animals that mark trees do it to mark their territory. So if this is the territory of some large animal, we should move on.”
That sounds like a very good idea to me.
