Lost at Running Brook Trail by Sheryl A. Keen Page A

looked remotely edible but stumbled upon a train track that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The track was brown and rusty. It belonged to another time and place. It was possible they hadn’t seen the track because some of it was overrun with weeds, but they could now see it winding away from them.
    “Tracks usually lead to somewhere,” Miriam said thoughtfully.
    “That would be true elsewhere, but not here,” Elaine said. “This is the death of a railway. Nothing is moving on this track but grass.”
    “We should still see where it goes,” Miriam said.
    “Are we following grassy tracks or looking for food?” Susan asked.
    “Geez, just drink some water,” Kimberly said.
    “Well, there’s no reason why we can’t follow the track and look for food at the same time.” Elaine looked down at the track. All they had to do was follow it to get back. They had a fixed line from which they couldn’t get lost. “But don’t expect to find anything.”
    “Not even a station?”
    “Miriam, seriously, look at this place. You really think you’ll find a building out here? Not even the remains of one.”
    At times the railway track disappeared completely and then reappeared again, stretched out in front of them like a rusted beacon.
    They saw lots of berries that looked appetizing. Some even looked like the ones they’d seen just outside the cave. Unfortunately, they had to pass on them because they were unknown.
    “I wonder what the others are doing,” Susan said.
    “Who cares? We’re better off without those losers.” Kimberly looked down at her feet and took note of the reddish orange track. It was rusted and flaking away. Elaine was right; they would find nothing along this line.

    “They are just people who cut themselves, pretty dunces and all the other stuff.”
    “It’s always the same thing with you,” Miriam said. “Everybody at Anne Beaumont is a loser, except for you and your friends.”
    “I never said that, but hey, it might be true.”
    “You’re full of it. If you think that, you’ve got to be more spaced-out than I thought you were. You’re just talking without thinking, like you usually do.”
    “Whatever.”
    The track led them through tall trees that seemed to reach the sky. All the while the imperial mountains were in front of and all around them like an all-seeing goddess.
    “They probably had their breakfast,” Elaine said. It was hard to know whether one was on the right or wrong track when scavenging for food or anything else in an unknown place. “And they are probably saying the same thing about us, that we’re losers because only stupid people get lost by separating themselves from people who know where they’re going. We wouldn’t even need to think about where we’re putting our feet right now. All we needed to do was follow the guide who knows the trail and stay with our group.”
    “You sound frustrated,” Susan said.
    “I’m responding to Kimberly. I’m past frustrated. I simply want to survive this. We’re walking in kind of a straight line, but we’re not seeing anything new or getting anywhere. Know what I mean?”
    “Yeah,” Susan said. “I’m seeing more and more of the same berries that we can’t eat.”
    “So when we get back to school, we’re going to be seen as losers?” Miriam didn’t want to be branded, but she wouldn’t worry too much about it. If she survived being alone in this backwoods with three other girls who didn’t know where they were, maybe she could survive anything. “Maybe now Kimberly will know what it feels like to be called names.”
    “I doubt anybody is going to be calling us names. People our age are fascinated by lost and found stories. They’ll probably have lots of questions for us that they wouldn’t ask losers.” Elaine looked at the parallel lines of the rails with the crossties. It was a never-ending pattern of movement. She could imagine a train running on the track, but only just. She wondered what kind