10 – CHAPTER TEN – 1.258^10

They were in the mountains. Around of them were woods with two narrow tracks leading to the cabin from different directions. "Which direction?" Don asked.

"This way," Charlie answered, on the spur of the moment, pointing to their right. Don walked ahead along the slightly downward sloping track.

"Have you ever heard of the right-hand rule?" Charlie asked his brother while catching up to him again. He had, for some reason, stopped at the crosstracks.

"No, Charlie, I haven't. And to be honest, I'm not very interested in it at the moment."

"But it could be quite interesting and important…"

"Charlie, I'm really not in the right mood for some math gimmicks. If you want you can tell me about it when we've found a telephone."

For years Charlie had been fed up with his brother considering him a pain in the ass, so he remained silent until some minutes later the track branched another time, leaving them with three possibilities.

"Where now?" Don asked again.

Charlie silently pointed to the right with his thumb. "Again?" Don asked, frowning. "Listen, I don't want to walk in circles."

"But you want to get out of here," Charlie lectured while putting two little sticks inconspicuously in the ground with Don's confused gaze and one risen eye-brow on him. "So you'd better trust me, if you don't want to know anything about the right-hand rule or this other rule explained by Trémaux and Tarry." With that, he strode away from him.

Annoyed, Don moaned, quickly following his brother as he disappeared down the right path. When he'd caught up with him, he asked, half against his better knowledge, "So tell me about this right-hand stuff."

"If you don't want to, I don't have to."

"Come on, don't make such a song and dance out of it, tell me! And what was this thing about the twigs on the ground?"

"Never heard of Trémaux and Tarry, right?" Charlie asked pointedly.

"Er – no, Completely unknown to me."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you'd listened to me earlier," Charlie teased, a little offended.

Don inhaled deeply, rolling his eyes. "Okay. I'm sorry. I was a huge idiot and a complete jerk. And since I'm completely lost without you anyway, I'm begging you on my knees to initiate me into the marvellous secrets of your mathematics."

"I'm not seeing you on your knees," Charlie answered, acting huffy although he was already appeased. Don hadn't meant it meanly, after all. "Let it be," he therefore added, grinning broadly as he saw Don's indignant gaze, and started his explanation. "Now listen. Imagine we're in a maze here."

"Not very difficult."

"You see. Assuming now that the cabin had been our destination in the middle of the maze and that we're now trying to get out, there are different methods we could use to find our way. Of course, we could easily give in to our whims and take the path that looks most inviting to us –"

"And what would be wrong with that?"

"Nothing. You're welcome to try. But personally, I'd like to be home before Christmas."

"Okay, I got it. So what are we supposed to do? Mark our path, as you did earlier?"

Charlie hesitated. "Yeeaahh… But that's only half of it. Let me start from the beginning. So: One possibility in a maze is to touch the hedge with your right hand permanently. Of course you can also do it with your left hand as long as you stick to your method. However, this method only works if the destination is connected with the outer hedge. And the longer I think about it, the more I doubt that we can be sure that this is the case in our situation. Therefore we should change our method later, otherwise we'll end up back at the cabin."

"Are you telling me that you're leading us back to the mobsters' hiding place right now?"

"Of course not… at least, not now. I just said we should change our method later."

"And choose the hit or miss way?"

"No way. We'll apply Tremaux's algorithm, a method created by Gaston Tarry and Charles Pierre Trémaux."

"Another Charlie," Don murmured.

"Got a problem with that?" Charlie asked belligerently.

"Dunno. I don't even know what these guys are about."

Charlie sighed, a bit exaggeratedly and denied himself a grin before enlightening his brother. "Generally, it's very simple. Every path we enter we mark with a stick in the ground. If there's already a stick, we add a second one. However, if there are already two, we go another way."

"And which one?"

"The one with the smallest amount of sticks, that means a path with only one or without any sticks at all."

"Sounds quite logical to me. After all, who chooses a way he's already gone twice? You don't have to be a mathematician to work that out."

"But that's not quite everything. Every time you leave a path, you also leave a stick at its end. In this way, you immediately block out dead ends, because you must never go a path with two sticks."

"Okay," Don said, a bit hesitantly. He thought he'd got the system, but still decided to let Charlie choose their paths. "So let's see if you can prove that your algorithms work. Ahead of us, the way branches again."

"Okay, then we'll turn left," Charlie decided, making his marks. "It's about time we changed methods."

In silence, they continued walking, looking behind them every now and then, always with the indefinite, but unpleasant feeling of being watched and followed. What if the mobsters, against all probability, had found their tracks somehow? Would they suddenly be assaulted from behind…? However, it appeared that there wasn't another soul for miles.

The track soon narrowed further until it was only a path not even wide enough for a single car.

"Charlie…," Don began cautiously. "Hadn't we better go back and try the other way?"

"Of course. If you want to lose your way completely, never mind. If you apply such an algorithm, you have to be consistent."

"I am. I see a dead end, so consequently I turn on my heels."

"But this isn't a dead end. Maybe the way will broaden again. Besides, it's less dangerous for us to walk paths where no cars can go and therefore the danger of meeting the mobsters is less."

Don gave in. He already knew this, but somehow with Charlie lecturing him it was as if he'd taken charge. There was no use arguing with Charlie when he was in 'genius, mathematician professor mode'.

"Haven't we been here before?" Don asked an hour later, interrupting their conversation. Charlie looked at the ground searchingly.

"We have," he finally admitted. "OK, here we'd gone straight ahead. Which direction now?"

With a shrug, Don pointed to the left.

Charlie made his signs. "How much time, do you think, it'll take to find somebody who can help us?"

"I don't know. The area seems to be huge. I think we're somewhere in the Angeles National Forest. And as you know, up here in the mountains and in a national park to boot, there aren't really many inhabitants. And the hiking season where tourists walk over the paths here in masses is also over."

Charlie nodded, although he assumed with a gaze at the hiking paths that these masses were rather moderate. "Summer is past," he affirmed. "So it could be quite cold tonight."

Through the leaves and twigs high above their heads, they glanced anxiously at the sky that was gradually growing darker. They wouldn't be able to orient themselves for long here, in the woods. "We ought to find a place where we can stay over night as soon as possible," Don suggested. Charlie nodded silently.

For some time, they walked beside each other in silence again. If it hadn't been for their precarious situation, they probably would have been enjoying their walk and appreciating nature's wonders around them. The trees were huge, forming a green roof high above their heads where, in their crowns, different birds twittered happily. The air was so clean and fresh they could barely breathe their fill. Everything around them was green and fresh and alive. They didn't feel fresh themselves, but after their escape, they certainly felt very much alive.

"Do you remember the hiking trip dad took us with when we were children?" Don asked after some minutes.

Charlie smiled at the memory. "Sure. That one canyon was really something."

"Uh-huh," Don agreed. "And do you remember, one night, when you screamed because you thought there was a wild pig outside your tent?"

"Hey, it was a pig!" Charlie defended himself. He flushed just a little bit. Although he'd only been seven at the time, the whole thing was still a little bit embarrassing for him. "Kind of."

"Yeah, it could've been a filthy pig… but in my memory it more resembled a racoon," Don corrected him.

Charlie shrugged. "All animals are equal, you know. I just didn't want to deprive you of experiencing one of nature's marvels. That's the only reason why I woke you up. And you didn't even bother to thank me."

Don laughed, and Charlie grinned broadly. This hiking trip wasn't that bad, after all.

Around evening, they found a rocky spur that promised them some protection. "Let's hope that the wild animals will stay at home tonight," Don murmured while they tried to get as comfortable as possible.

"Yeah, for example the racoons…"

Don grinned.

"And besides, we should also hope that we won't be woken up by some mobsters," Charlie added sarcastically.

Very soon, though, they had pushed their worries aside. The strains of the day were taking their toll, and after few minutes they fell asleep, closely nestled up one against the other to protect them against the cold.

When Don awoke, he didn't know immediately what had awakened him. It couldn't be dawn for everywhere around him, it was still completely dark. At the same time he realised what had woken him as he became aware of the quiet patter rain was making on the forest ground.

Gently, he shook his brother.

"Charlie, wake up."

Don would never have dreamt that his voice could sound so quiet and peaceful. Charlie moaned quietly in his sleep, but then opened his eyes, which, however, was of little use due to the light conditions. "What's up?" he asked sleepily.

"It's raining."

"Oh… Uh, so?"

"We should make use of the opportunity and drink something. Who knows when we'll get the chance again."

"If you say so," Charlie mumbled, still half asleep. He went to stand up, when Don held him back gently with one arm.

"What's up?" he asked, searching through the dark for Don's face, his big eyes at half mast. However, he could only make out a silhouette and hear his brother's calm voice.

"If you go out into the rain now, you'll have pneumonia within a few hours. Luckily we found somewhere that's above the ground."

Don fumbled around a bit in the darkness and Charlie heard him pulling at some plants. "Here," Don finally said, offering him a big leaf. "With that you can collect the rain without getting wet."

They held their leaves in front of them so that they protruded from under the rocky spur, listening to the rain pattering down. Then they let the water glide down their dried up throats. The liquid tasted wonderful as they'd forgotten how refreshing fluids could be.

"The rain's washing away our tracks," Charlie mused while they were sitting harmoniously shoulder to shoulder.

"Mh-hm. Nothing better could have happened to us," Don agreed.

"At least one thing that's working in our favour out here."

"Don't worry," Don said calmly. He still couldn't get over the peaceful tone in his voice. It had to be the atmosphere – the quiet night in the woods, protected under a rock, the constant patter of the rain, his brother at his side… "We'll be home in a couple of hours. Certainly."

He sensed his brother nod beside him. He was feeling that Charlie wanted to add something, but it took some moments until he verbalized it. "I hope dad's OK."

Don smiled slightly. He'd been thinking the same thing at the same moment. It was nice to eventually have for once the same thoughts as his genius little brother. At this moment in time, they were totally equal. It didn't matter that Don was a federal agent, it didn't matter that Charlie was a professor, it didn't matter that they had their arguments; there was no difference between them, they were one.

"Yeah, I hope so, too," Don confessed, but both he and Charlie doubted that their hope was close to reality. Alan had been assaulted a short time ago and his sons forcibly removed from his presence. He had no clue as to how they were. He sure as hell wasn't going to be in high spirits.

After a while, the rain stopped again. "We should try sleeping for another couple of hours," Don said. "The ground's probably slippery and with the darkness we can't see enough to go on, anyway."

This time, however, sleep didn't come easily. They lay awake for long hours, freezing and thinking. Eventually, however, they fell asleep as they took comfort that at least they weren't in the situation alone.

When the birds' chorus awoke them the second time they felt as if they hadn't slept at all. Nevertheless, groaning slightly, they crawled out from under the rock and continued on their way.

"Fortunately, our markers are still there," Charlie said when they reached the next branch-off, noticing a little stick to their right.

"Yeah," Don responded, "but still I'd prefer not having been here before. I just wonder how the tourists who've never heard about… Charles… Terry or something like that manage not to get lost."

"Well…", Charlie began, obviously not noticing that Don's utterance hadn't been a real question. Don let him talk. "Some of them have got a tour guide, some have a map of trails and a compass. And some of them just have plenty of time. And they keep to the big tracks." Charlie sighed. "And they're able to call mountain rescue with their cell phone when they get lost."

"Right. Just now I really wouldn't have anything against… how does Larry call them again?"

"Electronic dog leashes," Charlie answered promptly, laughing briefly. "I'm going to tell him a thing or two when I set eyes on him again." If I set eyes on him again, Charlie thought to himself, grimacing slightly.

"That's what I keep telling you, he's a bit manic," Don joked. "I still can't see what Megan – woah!"

Don finished his sentence with an astonished yell. He had good reason. His left foot came down on some rain-wet leaves and slipped across the muddy ground. He tried desperately to keep balance as he tipped over the edge of the path.

"Don!" Charlie shouted aghastly. He tried to grab his hand, but he couldn't reach him anymore. Don lost his balance and fell down the slope next to the path.

Charlie dived for the verge and saw his big brother stretched out motionless on the ground.

"Don? Don!"

Hastily, Charlie skidded down the slope. "Don, you alright?" He tumbled over roots until he was finally kneeling next to his brother. Don moaned. "Hell, what happened?" Charlie asked anxiously.

"I slipped. That's all," Don appeased him through clenched teeth. "I'm fine. Just my ankle."

Indecisively and on the verge of a panic attack, Charlie looked down at the apparently hurt foot then glanced up the slope, finally looking in his brother's pale and tense face. "Damn it," he murmured, letting his gaze jump aimlessly from one point to another. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

"Now calm down, Charlie!" Don tried to appease him. "It's not as bad as all that."

Charlie laughed slightly hysterically. "No? Can you even walk?"

Don shrugged. "Dunno. It's worth trying. Help me a bit." He first pulled himself to a sitting position with his brother's help. Then he laid his arms around the younger man's shoulders, and Charlie pulled him to stand upright, albeit a bit awkwardly.

"You okay?" Charlie asked anxiously.

His face contorting with pain, Don cautiously tried to put weight on his foot. He moaned quietly. He'd rather have roared. Slowly and cautiously, he let his brother help him back down into a sitting position. Feverishly, he wondered what they were going to do now. Then he shook his head. "Forget it. I'll only hold you back. Listen, you have to go on alone. It can't be far from here until you'll finally find help."

Charlie protested, "I can't leave you alone here!"

"You have to!" Don implored him, half knowing better. He didn't like the idea of his brother going off alone. But did they have an alternative? "If I came with you, we'd lose too much time."

Charlie shook his head. "It'd be the most idiotic thing we could do to separate just now." He thought briefly. "Wait a sec," he then ordered his brother, disappearing between the trees.

Don was looking after him, his neck craning. "I didn't have better plans for today, anyway!" he called after him, but Charlie didn't seem to hear him. "Charlie?" Don gave up. His brother would surely come back – eventually.

Again moaning slightly, Don cautiously took off his shoe. It was hurting like hell. He tried to ignore the twinge, but he didn't manage. Eventually, he surveyed his ankle. It was heavily swollen and had already turned a little blue. "You really did another fine job here," Don mumbled to himself. He prodded the swollen part cautiously and cried out quietly. After this first attempt he let it be.

Instead, he looked around. All of a sudden, the forest seemed much more menacing to him than half an hour ago. What could he do if some animal attacked him? He'd be wide open, without protection; he even wasn't able to run away! He slowly became aware of the numerous little creepy-crawlies that kept themselves hidden here in the woods. A bit queasily, Don wondered what other animals could be lurking amongst the trees. Wolves? Bears? What would he do if such a beast came close to him? How was he supposed to protect his brother and himself with this damned ankle? Above all when Charlie had disappeared?

Suddenly, a memory crossed Don's mind. It had been his thirteenth birthday. His father had taken him on a camping trip, and of course Charlie had been with them again. Don had been given the job of keeping an eye on him. On his birthday, no less! Baby sitter for his little, annoying brother! Obviously Don hadn't felt like doing so, and of course Charlie had promptly disappeared. They had searched for him everywhere, but had found him nowhere until finally the police had picked him up miles away from their camp. Not until something over a year ago they had cleared up what had actually happened back then. Don, though, had sworn that day to always take care of Charlie. He knew he just wouldn't cope if something happened to his brother because he hadn't protected him.

He wished Charlie were here. What had he said; it'd be idiotic to separate now?

So why had he left him alone?