"This will absolutely murder you, bro." Kevin Lake said as he struggled through pulling on the joint, passing it to Juan, and driving the Volkswagon simultaneously. Juan Cartero took the proferred cigarette and puffed at it critically.

"You right homes," Juan said, licking the sticky residue on his lips. "It tastes like murder."

"That's what I'm sayin'," Kevin dragged his finger across his throat and smiled big. Juan grinned and exhaled, the thick smoke snatched out the car window and dispersed into the West Virginia wilds.

Sitting in the backseat, Marshall Hemmsfield rested his head on the taut shoulders of star athlete Monica Kane. Marshall pursed his lips and blew Monica's black hair off his brow.

"You look comfortable." Monica observed, tussling Marshall's brown curls.

"I'm actually wracked by barely concealed anxiety." Marshall admitted, his lids closing lazily.

"Yeah?"

"I can't believe you strongarmed me into coming to this extreme weekend malarkey."

Monica grabbed a handful of Marshall's hair and pulled his face to hers.

"I recall it being anticlimactically simple once I mentioned that Juan was coordinating the event."

She had him there.

Marshall had been harboring a borderline infatuation for the twenty-two-year-old Puerto Rican transplant ever since they made small talk at freshman orientation two years ago. Monica had convinced him that the Bluefield State University's Adventure Group weekend at the Greenbrier Mountains provided good material for a student affairs article Marshall had to write for the school paper.

Shaking free from Monica's grip, Marshall sat up in the leather seat and stared at the back of Juan's head. "All that's going to happen is you are all going to be defying death all over the backcountry while I scribble in my notebook and take snapshots. I'm going to look impotent by comparison."

"Or you could use the opportunity to pick Juan's brain by interviewing him. You know, show interest in his interests. Men love to hear themselves talk."

"Woman, you are conniving."

"I'm a winner, Marshall. You could be too if you stop being such a dead fuck."

"You guys are making it hard to study with all your innuendos and double entendres." Jenny Chan said from the middle of the van, sitting with her back against the window and legs crossed underneath her. A thick advanced mathematics text was open on her lap, along with a notepad and pen. Damian Ramsey, to her right, leaned in close to her.

"You shouldn't be studying anyway. It's Saturday." Damian flashed Jenny a brilliant smile, crisp white against his dark skin.

"I have a test, Ramsey."

"You always have a test, Chan." he countered.

"The road to success is littered with exams and term papers, Confucius say." Jenny templed her hands and bowed her head.

"You work too hard, Jenny." Kevin said in a tight voice. After releasing a nimbus of fragrant smoke from his lips, he continued. "You need to cut back. Smoke a bowl, admire the forty fucking miles of trees and put your abacus away."

"How about I look at the trees while you smoke them?" Jenny slapped her textbook shut and shoved it into her napsack.

"I will get you to chill, Jennifer Chan. That is a promise."

"Kevin, how long is it to Fairlake? I've had to piss since mile marker seventeen." Juan interjected. Kevin tapped at his mounted GPS and spared it a quick glance before returning his green eyes to the road. "We're twenty minutes out. Want me to pull over?"

"Nah, I'll hold it. Besides, we have an hour before we have to meet our wilderness guide."

"Just don't go getting a bladder infection on me, man. Jenny, pass this to Marshall for me." Kevin blindly handed a half-roasted bowl behind him. Jenny pinched her small nose and grabbed the glass piece. Marshall took it from her and took his hit. Monica looked at him.

"Make sure you're still lucid enough to write the article."

"Weed makes me write better."

"You're such a wreck."

"I know. I'm hapless." Marshall's shoulders slumped. He morosely took another pull from the phallus-shaped bowl.

Fairlake was an idealistic West Virginia settlement, all ma & pa stores and monuments to a past of hardship and survival. The Bluefield State Adventure Group took the main road into the center of town. They passed by the Fairlake Sheriff Station, the newest looking building on the block. Just outside, two women were arguing animatedly. The tall brunette was wearing the brown and tan uniform of an officer, her arms crossed and face resolute. There was an attractive young blond woman in cutoff shorts and a tanktop. A large napsack was at her booted feet.

"I think that's her," Juan said as Kevin slowed the van to a crawl.

"Who, Daisy Duke?" Kevin asked, hoping the smell of pot had dissipated by now. "I expected someone with a gut and a beard."

"Give her time. She does live in hicksville." Damian added under his breath. Juan rolled down his window and stuck his head out of the passenger side window.

"Excuse me-" Juan tried, but the blond yelled over him.

"You can't stop me, Dylan. I'm taking them into the backcountry."

"I can't stop you? I think you forgot which sister carries handcuffs and pepperspray," the policewoman countered.

"Excuse me-" Juan tried again, louder. Both women whirled on him and Juan hesitated, suddenly finding himself on the receiving end of their ire.

"What can I help you with, sir?" The brunette, Dylan, asked with forced congeniality.

"We're from Bluefield U. We're supposed to meet up with someone named Ami Ray." Juan looked at the blond expectantly.

"You found her," the blond girl said without fanfare. "If you take the road down to the end, you'll find a motel to settle up in. I'll meet you there."

"Are you the group headed for the Sharps?" Sheriff Dylan Ray asked, peering into the van. Jenny, Damian, Monica and Marshall waved awkwardly.

"We are." Juan answered.

"I'm inclined to warn you folks that people have gone missing up in Greenbrier." Ami rolled her eyes as her older sister spoke.

"We'll be fine,"

"Like Dad was fine?"

"I'm going. Either arrest me or shut the hell up."

Ami ignored the hard stare of her sibling and grabbed her backpack from off the ground. She took off down the street, in the direction she had indicated the motel was in. Fuming, the sheriff watched her go from the door of the police station.

"You have a good day now, y'hear?" Kevin saluted as he moved the van to catch up with Ami. Dylan said nothing as they drove off.