General Fiction
Date Published: October 23rd, 2025
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
Zane Carter and his sons, eleven-year-old Ty and thirteen-year-old
Joseph, venture one hundred miles into the Idaho wilderness with only a knife
and the knowledge of their Nez Perce ancestors. Danger awaits at every
deadfall and lurks in every snowy shadow as the boys hunt, fish, make weapons,
and build shelter, learning to survive, taking only what they need from the
land, and leaving no trace.
During their eighteen-day journey, Zane’s determination to fulfill a
promise to his grandfather, an Indigenous warrior who exemplified the tenets
of a wise and spiritual existence, is thwarted by a fatal encounter that
transports Zane into an ancient realm as he straddles the thin line between
life and death.
He wonders what has become of his boys. Have they learned enough patience,
resourcefulness, and courage to complete this rite of passage? Will they make
it out of the wildlands alive? Or will the unforgiving forces of the natural
world take them too far from home to ever return?
EXCERPT
Zane stood at the edge of the trees, closed his eyes and soaked in the smells of the conifers and the sound of the gentle sway of the aspen in the evening breeze. The trail was a peaceful walk along a small creek overhung with forest canopy that led to a suddenly open meadow with wisps of steam drifting up from the grass and rock. The hot mineral springs percolated up through the earth in wide marshy patches that trickled slowly to the creek.
He walked to the far side of the meadow and down to the creek to his favorite camp area. He was the first person into this spot this season and the winter had pressed hard on the land. The fire ring was washed out and tree branches lay tangled after being dragged down by the heavy snow and wind.
Zane prepared a level sleeping area free of rocks and debris, then laid out the ground covers for the sleeping bags. He gathered the firewood, made roasting sticks out of willow branches, then went to work repairing winter damage on one of the central pools. The hot springs had been used by the Native People for thousands of years. This had always been a place of peace and healing.
The People would travel to these mineral baths and respect it as neutral ground where there was truce between all who rested here. The healing water rose up from the ground and mixed with the fresh clear stream. Year after year the areas where the hot springs poured up from the ground, the cool creek was mixed in to a desired temperature.
Pools were made by stacking the river rock as deep as someone was willing to work. By the end of the summer, some of the pools had been improved by hundreds of people till they became as comfortable as any hot tub. Zane waded barefoot into the icy water and started moving rocks. The spring runoff had overrun the pools, scattering the rocks so there were only impressions where deep pools had once been. As the wall of rocks diverted the main thrust of the creek around the hot water rising from below, the water warmed, and the work became more pleasant. It took an hour before they could enjoy a warm soak.
A half hour after dark, Joseph and Ty trotted up to Zane’s once peaceful fire. The two young men, drunk with adventure, proudly held their trophies aloft.
“That was the best fishing I’ve ever done!” Joseph said.
Ty yelled, “Look what I caught!” He held up the beautiful native trout.
“We kept three. One for each of us,” Joseph said. “But I bet we threw back five or six. It was the best! Can we stop back here on our way home?”
“Depends how things go, but at this point I kind of doubt it. Don’t worry; this is one of my favorite places. We’ll be back, but right now let’s cook up these nice elk steaks. Here are some baked potatoes. I cooked them last night. We will warm them by the fire. You guys watch your own, okay?”
“I always burn my potatoes. Can you do mine?” asked Ty. “And I want to eat my fish. I’ll have my steak for breakfast. Okay?”
“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” said Joseph. “I like to eat my fish before the spots fade.”
“All right, we’ll have fish. But I want you guys to cook your steaks. We need to make a quick start tomorrow. Get to it, if you want to take a soak before bed. I also want to fill you in on where we’re going and what we’ll be doing.”
The boys hurried down to the creek to clean the fish. They were filled with the thrill of the catch and eager to finally learn where they were going and how they would be spending the next two weeks.
While Zane whittled on some small skewers to help hold the fish onto the roasting sticks, he thought back to the last time he was at these springs. In the pouring rain he rested in the hot water on a late August night. Lightning flashed frantically along the ridges on both sides of the creek. Zane had watched one bolt hit a tall white fir sending it into fiery fragments. The night looked like day and the thunder echoed through the canyon like cannons.
The other people at the springs had all run for cover through the sheets of water when the lightning strikes walked across the meadow. Zane had always figured that when God was ready for him, no amount of running would change his destiny. And by God, that was the finest fireworks display Zane had ever seen. He looked for thunderheads in the star-filled sky and then turned his attention to mounding the coals to roast these most beautiful brown trout.
About the Author
After high school, Aaron Anderson set out to see the world, embarking on
adventures through North America, Europe, and North Africa. He enjoyed
traveling as a bicyclist, motorcyclist, train passenger, and even as a
hitchhiker, reveling in the excitement of the unknown.
At the age of twenty-two, Aaron returned to the US and worked on oil rigs in
Wyoming. He later became a carpenter and eventually a real estate appraiser.
However, his true passions have always been writing, developing powerful
friendships, and exploring new country.
During the 1980s he and his two sons hunted, hiked, and camped throughout the
western states. Here, his love for the natural world and respect for
Indigenous people prompted him to write his second novel, Never Lost.
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