That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Gina coughed as she wiped the blood from her eyes. She was leaning against a large tree, her back propped up painfully against the rough bark as she surveyed the forest around her.

Broken limbs and tattered canopies swayed above her, their pain nearly audible with every gust of wind. The forest floor was a tapestry of natural debris, and Gina could see small animals foraging among the chaos in hopes of finding that rare Spring treat.

Gina coughed again as she wiggled her legs, watching as the small pile of branches slid off her body. She didn’t know how she survived the storm- all she remembered was the sound of a freight train before the winds picked her up- tent and all- and flung her into the unknown.

Now, she slowly moved her limbs, assessing each one for damage before trying to stand. Thankfully, she seemed mostly intact- save for a throbbing, bleeding head and a sore hip. She ripped a piece off her black t-shirt to use as a makeshift bandage, then looked any familiar signs or markers.

“Well, I’m lost.”

Her words echoed in the stillness, and Gina shivered with a combination of cold and isolation. Normally, she enjoyed the quiet- solo camping had always been her favorite way to escape life and clear her head. This time, however, she was so anxious to get into the woods and decompress from a recent breakup that she’d failed to check the weather properly.

When the storm hit that night, she knew she’d messed up.

“Well, no use in crying about it now,” Gina mumbled to herself as she marked the sun’s position in the sky. It was just past midday, and she used the position to point herself South. She had come in from the South and hiked North to her campsite, so she hoped that walking south would bring her back to the road.

But the forest was huge, and she had no idea where the storm had dropped her off.

Gina walked slowly, checking her body for aches and pains every few steps. A broken bone out here could mean death, and she wasn’t about to risk making any injury worse.

She also looked for fresh water. Her supplies were lost in the storm, and she could feel the pangs of hunger and thirst stirring within her. She needed sustenance.

A flash of bright yellow caught her eye, and Gina gasped as she inched closer and found the tattered remains of her tent caught in a large blackberry bush. She was only a few feet from where she woke up and concluded that the tent had caught on the bushes and thrown her to safety before succumbing to their prickly arms.

“Thank you, old friend,” Gina muttered as she pulled a few of the waterproof shreds from the frame. “I’ll never forget you.”

After wrapping a long piece of tent around her head to keep her makeshift bandage in place, she grabbed one of the tent poles and used it to poke around the blackberries. A few were mostly ripe, and she gently pulled them off the bush and popped them into her mouth, wincing slightly at the bitter tang. As she searched for more, a flash caught Gina’s eye.

Her phone was lying in the mud below, and Gina did everything she could to retrieve it. Finally, she plunged her hand in and grabbed it, ignoring the pain as the thorns cut through her sweater and into her arm.

Once it was in her hands, Gina closed her eyes with a desperate prayer.

“Please work!”

The phone gods didn’t answer, however, and the screen remained blank as she tried to revive it.

“Damn.”

Gina pocketed the phone anyway, vowing to get it fixed when she got back to civilization, and continued South. The sun was creeping lower, and she needed to find water and shelter before nightfall. After walking for what felt like miles, Gina heard the blissful sound of running water. she headed to it and nearly cried when she saw a spring-fed creek trickling in a small valley below her. She carefully made her way to the bank and drank deeply of the cold, pure water.

It revived her considerably, and Gina took a moment to pause and take in her surroundings.

The forest seemed thinner here, and she could see a faint game trail winding off to the East. She was tempted to follow it- would have under different circumstances- but knew that it could lead her further into the woods.

And, in her state, she needed to focus on getting home.

Her head throbbed again, and Gina knew she couldn’t go any farther tonight. She found a small outcropping near the spring and curled beneath it, covering herself with leaves and branches for warmth and camouflage as she rode out the night. But she didn’t sleep much. Every snapped twig and rustled bush sent her body into full alert as she listened for wolves, bears, bobcats, and any number of predators that hunted at night.

Despite this, Gina knew she must have passed out at some point because the next the she knew, it was morning. She emerged from her makeshift shelter and had another drink of the spring before resuming her trek South, hoping against hope that she was close to a service road, hiking trail, or any sign of civilization.

After several hours, Gina looked no closer to escaping the forest than before. Frustrated, she let out a yell that startled some small birds nearby, and Gina watched them fly away with an unbridled envy.

She sat on a log to rest and made a meal out of nearby dandelion greens, their bitter taste making her thirsty and miserable. Gina sighed and rested her head in her hands.

“What do I do now?”

As she sat there, she could hear the forest around her as various creatures went about their day, oblivious to her situation. Sure, she could ask an Opossum for directions, but she doubt he’d be very forthcoming about it.

The idea almost made her laugh, and she shook her head as she pointed herself southward again.

“Ok. Focus. Trails, roads, cars. People. Anything to get you out of here.”

Bolstered, Gina took off again, her pace frantic as she raced against the sun. She didn’t want to spend another night unprotected, and she was determined to find a way out before that became an option.

After a few more hours of walking, a tree caught her eye. Moving closer, Gina sighed in relief as she recognized the faded orange symbol on the trunk.

A trail marker.

Most hiking trails were marked, the color and symbol representing how difficult the hike would be. An orange triangle meant difficult uphill terrain, but that didn’t worry Gina at all.

She was going downhill.

Without hesitation, Gina turned right and found herself on a fairly worn hiking trail. Debris from the storm still littered the area- and a few places were block completely, forcing Gina to find an alternate route- but she didn’t mind. Everything seemed easier now that she had a sense of location, and Gina found herself almost giddy with relief as she wound her way through the forest and down the mountain.

The sun began to set, casting blue-black shadows on the forest floor as Gina finally stumbled through the trailhead. Her breath came in spurts and her head ached, but she felt nothing but happiness as she looked around at the dirt parking lot before her.

It was empty, save for a single red pickup parked on the left-hand side. A limb had fallen on top of it and broken the passenger window, and it was littered with dents and scrapes, but there was no mistaking it.

That was her vehicle, and Gina was going home.