Naomi Wilson walked through the damp wood, heart pounding. Not with exertion, but with excitement. The air was unusually chilly for mid- September. Then again, maybe it was always this cold in Abbotsford, British Columbia, a town nestled in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains.
Naomi had wandered off the beaten path. She had stepped of the worn trail, flattened by joggers and dog walkers and hikers. She had stepped over fallen branches and crunch fallen leaves beneath her feet. And now she was lost- though she didn't want to admit it to herself- turned around and confused as she marveled at the trees that had turned every shade of fire.
"This is why they make paths." Naomi lectured herself, unhelpfully. She looked around her. She was surrounded by who knows how many acres of forest, who knows how far from home. A flash of yellow caught her eye. It was the wrong height for the yellowed leaves of a tree, too large for a bird.
A "NO TRESSPASSING" sign. Not exactly welcoming, Naomi thought. But that sign meant people, people who had a phone, or at least some helpful direction.
She walked to the barbed wire fence and sized it up warily. She looked both ways. The fence extended as far as she could see, which in truth wasn't all that far. The forest was thick. She had never climbed a barbed wire fence before. Granted, it was only waist high, but barbed wire was barbed wire. She squinted at it as she came closer. It looked rusted.
Taking a breath, she placed one hand on a wooden post. It was cold and wet beneath her fingers. Now what? She put a foot gingerly on the wire. It wobbled precariously with her weight. Naomi frowned. It was a lot more unsteady than she thought it would be. Climbing it wouldn't work. She cocked her head to the side. She'd have to vault the damn thing. What's the worst that could happen? She thought. She'd just get a scratch. Or get tetanus, but she'd cross that bridge later.
She backed up a few steps and took a breath. She ran, planning her hand solidly on the post and threw her legs to the side as she swung through the air. She landed, feet first with a thunk. She smiled in triumph, wishing someone had witness her athletic feat.
"Nice jump." A voice said. It came from behind her. Naomi's hear raced and she spun around, breath hitching in her throat. Terror raced through her veins. And all at once she felt calm. She tried to shake it off. She was frightened. She was scared. She felt wrong.
A man, young, late teens was staring at her. He was as pale as moonlight watching her closely. He was muscular; she could see that, wearing just a tee shirt in the cold weather. That wasn't quite right. Her skin prickled. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it added to her fear. His blond hair was lifted by the breeze, and she saw his eyes, fully for the first time. They were yellow. A rich yellow, there was no mistaking it.
