Out of Range

Heidi Lang

• Publisher: Margaret K. McElderry Books
• Year: 2022
• Print ISBN: 9781665903356
• eBook ISBN: 9781665903363

Hatchet meets Raina Telgemeier’s Sisters in this “realistic, riveting” (Kirkus Reviews) middle grade tale of three warring sisters who find themselves lost in the wilderness and must learn to trust each other if they want to survive.

Sisters Abby, Emma, and Ollie have gone from being best friends forever to mortal enemies.

Thanks to their months-long feud, they are sent to Camp Unplugged, a girls’ camp deep in the heart of the Idaho mountains where they will go “back to nature”—which means no cell phones, no internet, and no communicating with the outside world. For two whole weeks. During that time, they had better learn to get along again, their parents tell them. Or else.

The sisters don’t see any way they can ever forgive each other for what they’ve done, no matter how many hikes and campfire songs they’re forced to participate in. But then disaster strikes, and they find themselves lost and alone in the wilderness. They will have to outrun a raging wildfire, make it through a turbulent river, escape bears and mountain lions and ticks. They don’t have training, or food, or enough supplies. All they have is each other.

And maybe, just maybe, it will be enough to survive.

ACT TWO ALONE

8 ABBY

BEFORE

FEBRUARY 2 (ALMOST 5 MONTHS AGO)

Abby’s lungs ached, her side burned, and her legs felt heavier than the trees she ran past. She forced herself to go faster anyway, trying to keep up with Dustin, who practically floated down the trail ahead of her.

Why am I doing this? It wasn’t the first time she’d had that thought. But then they finally reached her house and stopped, and Dustin grinned at her, a wide, proud grin, his whole face open and happy. And she knew exactly why she was doing this.

“Way to go, McBee! You’re getting faster!”

“Thanks,” she gasped, putting her hands on her knees and sucking in air. She straightened and tried to look as if she weren’t dying. The world swam, bright spots floating around her eyes. She needed to go in and sit down, but Dustin was still standing between her and the door, barely sweating, not even breathing hard. His face was flushed a little, the freckles across his nose very visible against the pink, his green eyes extra bright. He always looked cutest after working out.

By contrast, Abby knew she looked like a splotchy, sweaty, stringy-haired mess.

He finally seemed to look at her, and his smile slid away. “Are you okay?”

“Great,” she croaked. “Never better.”

His grin came back. “That’s the right attitude.” And he punched her lightly in the shoulder.

Abby sighed. Over the past few months, sometimes it seemed as if he actually liked her. Like, as a girl. And when he’d offered to coach her after cross-country season ended, she’d thought that maybe he was looking for a way to spend more time alone with her, and so of course she’d accepted.

But then he’d shown her his training plan, with dates set and distances planned and a stopwatch prepared and everything.

Still, he’d asked to come over today. That had to mean something. Maybe in her house, away from the trails and their teammates and all the rest, he would… well, she wasn’t sure what she was hoping for. Profess his love for her? Ask her on a non-running date?

“So… are we going in, or what?” he asked.

Abby blinked. Had she seriously been standing here, staring at him? Her face burned, and she was grateful for once that running always turned her into a tomato. “Sorry. I was just, um, thinking about how I could improve my time out there.”

Dustin’s grin was wider than ever, and Abby knew she’d said the exact right thing. “It’s so cool that you love running like I do,” he said. “I haven’t met too many people who really understand.”

Abby winced, and quickly brushed past him to open her front door. She hated lying to him, but maybe someday she would actually love running, too.

A stitch throbbed in her side, and she felt like she might puke.

Okay, she’d probably never really love running, she decided. But she could fake it for as long as she needed to.

“Is your family home?” Dustin asked, following her inside.

“My dad is probably in his home office.” She closed the door behind them. “My mom is at work. And my sisters—” She hesitated. Both Emma and Ollie were mad at her right now, and here she was, bringing a boy home with her for the first time ever. It was definitely tempting fate, like waving a juicy steak in front of a tiger. She just hoped they wouldn’t do anything too embarrassing. “Well, they’re around,” she finished.

She kicked off her shoes at the door. Dustin didn’t. She hesitated, then led him to the kitchen without saying anything.

She hadn’t noticed how messy it was until this moment, seeing it all through Dustin’s eyes. The dishes stacked next to the sink, the flour spilled across the countertops, the boxes of cereal left out. To her horror, Dustin walked past all that and over to the fridge, where embarrassing family photos were pinned up by equally embarrassing magnets: giant sunglasses, cartoonish dogs, and even a poop emoji that Ollie had insisted they needed.

“You had a perm?” he asked, squinting at a photo of Abby, Emma, and their mom, all of them with matching curly hair.

Abby wished she’d thought to take those pictures down and burn them. “My mom made me and my sister go with her. We both swore we’d never let it happen again.”

“That’s too bad. You’re awfully cute. Like a tiny clown.” He grinned.

She was definitely burning them. “Thanks,” she muttered. She grabbed two glasses and filled them with water, thrusting one into Dustin’s hand so he’d look away from the fridge. There was a picture of her as a toddler running around wearing nothing but a few long strips of toilet paper that she really, really didn’t want him to notice. “Want to sit down? And I think my dad baked cookies, if you’d like one.”

“Definitely.” He turned away from the fridge and followed her over to the small kitchen table wedged in near the window. Her parents called it their “breakfast nook,” but in reality it was their “drop your mail and papers here” nook.

Abby hurriedly shuffled stuff to the side, clearing space, then put down the plate of freshly baked peanut butter cookies. “Sorry about the mess.”

“It’s cozy. I like it.” Dustin sat down in a chair next to her. And then he scooted in closer. Abby caught her breath, then forced herself to pick up a cookie and take a small, casual bite, chewing until the peanut butter and sugar evaporated in her mouth.

She didn’t taste any of it.

She could feel Dustin watching her. But why? A thousand fantasies played themselves out in her mind in rapid succession: Dustin telling her he liked her, inviting her to the eighth-grade formal, asking if he could hold her hand, or kiss her—she shoved those fantasies away, burying them in the bottom of her mind the way she’d buried her stuffed animals in the back of her closet. She needed to be cool, confident, like boys came over and sat in her kitchen all the time. She took another bite of cookie.

“I’m really glad you invited me over,” Dustin said.

Abby almost choked. She took a large swig of water. Cool, she reminded herself. Confident. She pasted on a smile. “Technically, you invited yourself over.”

He laughed. He had a tremendous laugh, warm and light, like a river burbling gently over rocks in the sun. “Okay, yes, I did do that. But only because I got tired of waiting for you to do it.”

“Bold move, Cleary.”

“Well, I’m a bold person, McBee.” His smile softened, his eyes on hers. “And speaking of bold, there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now.”

“Yeah?” Abby’s heart raced faster than Dustin ever had. She could feel the beat of it throbbing in her ears. Was this real? This moment felt as fragile as the spun sugar on one of her dad’s famous fancy cakes.

Dustin leaned in closer, so close she could smell the peanut butter on his breath. “I really like—”

“Well, well, well,” her dad said from the kitchen doorway.

Abby squeaked and almost fell out of her chair.

“Who is this stranger in my kitchen?” Her dad crossed his arms and gave Dustin the ole beady eye.

Abby could have died. It was like her dad had picked the absolute worst possible moment on purpose. “D-dad,” she managed, “this is Dustin. From cross-country? Dustin, my dad.”

Dustin stood up and waved. “Hello, sir.”

“Not really a fan of the whole ‘sir’ thing.”

“Oh,” Dustin said. “Sorry.”

“And I see you’ve been into my cookies,” her dad continued.

“Dad,” Abby hissed.

“Abby,” her dad said back, his lips twitching. He was having fun with this. Abby decided she didn’t feel like dying. She felt like murdering.

“Stop glaring at me, daughter mine.”

“Stop teasing me, father mine,” she shot back. She tossed her hair back behind her shoulders and turned to Dustin. “Want to see my room?”

He glanced uneasily at her dad. “Um… if that’s okay?”

“Of course it is,” Abby said quickly, daring her dad to contradict her. But he just shrugged.

“Have fun,” he said.

Abby relaxed and led Dustin out of the kitchen.

“And keep your door open!” her dad hollered after them.

Abby’s face burned. What must Dustin think? And here she’d been worried about her sisters. “Um, my room is right there,” she said quietly once they reached the top of the stairs. She opened her door, flicked on the lights, and froze.

Color screamed out at her. Every available inch of her walls was covered in posters of unicorns sliding down rainbows, hippos wearing tutus, multicolored dancing kittens, and more, all of them garishly bright, like a rainbow had thrown up all over the place. But it got worse.

Her bed was covered beneath a tide of carefully placed stuffed animals. Abby recognized the ones she had purposefully hidden in her closet, now put on full display along with a bunch of Emma’s. Her dresser had been lined with the Barbie dolls they’d never gotten around to donating, each posed dramatically. And in the middle of her floor, Ollie’s old My Little Ponies were having some sort of tea party.

Abby couldn’t tear her eyes away. This was not possible. She was having a dream. A nightmare. It couldn’t be real.

“Wow,” Dustin whispered. “Well. Um, yeah.”

Abby shook herself. “It’s not—”

“I’d better get going.” Dustin backed away. “Your dad, uh, didn’t seem like he wanted me to stay long.” He was almost at the stairs now.

“Wait, Dustin! This isn’t my stuff! I don’t…” Abby flailed, her humiliation so hot she thought she might burn up on the spot.

But Dustin wasn’t listening. “I’ll catch you later,” he called over his shoulder as he practically sprinted down the stairs. Abby heard the front door slam shut behind him.

She moved slowly into her desecrated bedroom and sat on the bed, still in shock. Dustin had been about to tell her he liked her. She was sure of it. But now? She imagined him telling his friends about this, and her humiliation grew even hotter until it sizzled into a burning rage.

Her sisters had done this. They had united against her, and ruined everything.

Abby picked up one of Emma’s stuffed animals—a dog with floppy ears—and chucked it at the wall.

It didn’t help. She was still furious. She had never been so angry before in her life.

Ollie was just being her normal bratty self. But Emma? She was supposed to be her friend, and she’d stabbed her in the back.

Abby picked up another one of Emma’s toys, this time a snowy owl with a head that turned in a circle, and dug her fingers into the material at the neck. She knew Emma was upset about her canceling on the movie, but this? Sabotaging her chances with Dustin?

Gritting her teeth, Abby popped the owl head out, then dropped it on the floor.

If Emma wanted a war, then fine, she’d give her a war.

9 EMMA

NOW

JUNE 28, DUSK

Freezing-cold water slapped Emma in the face. She gasped, swallowing a mouthful of river, her eyes stinging as waves crashed over her. The current was so strong it spun her around, her backpack buoying her up. Underwater rocks scraped against her legs, but when she tried to stand, her feet slipped right off them, the river pushing her p...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Dedication
• Act One: Lost
• Act Two: Alone
• Act Three: Survival
• Author’s Note
• Acknowledgments
• About the Author
• Copyright