The North Star

by Wendy Cole

  A sense of relief rushed over me. At least I’d know. “Did you do that?”

  Bard studied me. “I worked out here for weeks, Jessie. What did you think I was doing?”

  All those times he’d taken off right after we trained flooded my mind, and I almost laughed. Of course, he’d been doing something. What had I expected? That he just sat on a stump and looked manly? “I assumed you were just avoiding me.”

  Bard stood and looked down at me. “You needed space. I needed to make us safe. It was best for everyone.”

  I stared at him. “And now? Or…when this is over?”

  I let the sentence hang. Bard didn’t remember any of his drunken ramblings from the previous night; not the apology, not my forgiving him, not his promise to marry me, none of it.

  His eyes sharpened and roamed my face. I braced myself, knowing it was what he always seemed to do just before he said something that caused my heart to burst. “What is it you’re asking me, Tequila?”

  I shrugged. What was I asking? I had no fucking idea. Things were different now. I’d been prepared to let him go. No. Not prepared. I’d been suffering because I felt like I had to. He’d made it clear how he really felt when he called me a liar but now? Now, with everything that had happened, everything that could still happen…

  I bit the inside of my cheek. I knew what I wanted, and with a limited amount of time left on my lifeline, I was finding it a lot harder to worry about reasons against it.

  He took a step closer. “What do you want after this is over?” His voice was thick. It resonated with me, and with it came the memories of every moment we’d shared.

  My heart beat an erratic tempo; each breath shallower than the last. I closed my mouth and focused on the ground. When it’s over…I snorted. “Being alive would be a good start.”

  He closed the gap, moving so close his body brushed against mine. A wave of heat rushed from my chest to my stomach.

  Bard cupped my cheek and pulled my face up. His expression was soft, but a hint of vulnerability swam in those sharp eyes. He scanned my face, from hairline to temple then down to my mouth.

  “You’re going to be alive, Jessie. I swear it.” His eyes met mine. “When this is over, I’ll do whatever I have to. Whatever you need to be happy, you’re gonna have it, even if it’s without me.”

  The sky rumbled above us as if Karma herself was sticking her big, fat nose, once again, where it didn’t belong.

  “Let’s get inside.” Bard took my hand and helped me step over the wire.

  Through the trees, another cabin came into view. It was a tiny, one-room shack, obviously older than dirt.

  Bard kept his hold on my hand and led us towards it. “This is my great, great, granddaddy’s hunting cabin. The one I was telling you about. He built it over two hundred years ago.” The amount of pride in his tone made him sound more like a scholar relaying some grand piece of history to his student. “It’s not much, but I’ve set up those trip wires all the way around here.” He squeezed my hand. “It’s safe.”

  “You’ve really thought this out.”

  He had. I cut a glance at his profile and felt more than a little in awe of him. I’d known what he’d said. I’d known he had a plan. But all this…

  Bard paused at the small steps, let me move ahead, then reached around to open the door for me. It creaked like a relic as it swung open, and we made it over the threshold just as the first drops of rain broke through the clouds.

  Bard released my hand and lit a kerosene lantern. It painted the dusty room in a dull yellow glow. It held no furnishings, and every surface from floor to ceiling was covered in a decade’s worth of grime. A cracked and worn fireplace sat abandoned, still filled with the charred remains of a log. Spider webs connected the corners, and an eerie grey color seemed to hover just beyond the glow of the light.

  “Do you feel safe yet?” he asked, looking at me as if it were the most important question in the world.

  I thought about it.

  In that moment, between the trip wires, the supplies, and Bard scaring away a fucking bear, I almost did.

  I believed in him like I’d never believed in anyone or anything in my life. I believed in him more than I believed in myself.

  “I’m starting to.”

  My chest lightened a fraction. I was still terrified. How could I not be? Drake would always terrify me even long after he was dead. If I managed to outlive him, that was. What I felt in that moment wasn’t safety. Safety wasn’t a luxury people like me had the privilege of. What I did feel, what Bard made me feel with his words and with his confidence, was hope.

  I had a chance.

  It was a small chance, but a chance all the same.

  With one last long look, Bard moved away and set to the task of unpacking his bedroll. “Take your pack off,” he said.

  I slid the straps off my shoulders, and he grabbed it from me.

  Bard took my bedroll and stretched it out beside his then pulled out a couple of cans and took a seat. He motioned me over.

  I ignored the bite of the hard floor, and the fact that he’d put our beds so close together. After walking all day, and not having slept much the night before, I wasn’t concerned about the accommodations, but having him close…I needed that, and just like everything else, he knew I needed it too.

  Bard popped the tab off one of the cans and passed it to me. “Beanie weenies.”

  He snatched a spoon from the pack and passed it over.

  I stared down at the strange dog-food-like substance, and my stomach churned. “I’m not hungry.”

  I tried to hand it back to him.

  Bard didn’t take it. He popped the top on his own can.

  “Eat.” It was a grunt, and he didn’t even look over at me. He took a large bite of his own.

  I made a face, but tentatively lifted a small amount to my lips. It was baked beans; just baked beans with little hotdogs, and as nasty as it looked, it didn’t taste bad. Not good, but not bad either.

  My failure to eat the previous day caught up to me the minute the first bite hit my stomach, and it took me less than five minutes to devour the can. My stomach sang a symphony of praises, and the nausea I’d carried the whole day slowly dulled away.

  Bard took my trash, sat it on the floor next to his, then stretched out onto his back, and stared up at the ceiling. “I’ve got a few places like this set up. None of the others are cabins, but temporary shelters. I’ve buried ammo in different spots, along with more supplies. I also set up booby traps, so stick close to me tomorrow. I’d hate to see you get strung up by your ankle.” He turned to grin at me. “Although, that could prove interesting.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him and enjoyed the laugh I received in response.

  When I stretched out next to him, Bard turned onto his side and pulled me close. “I missed you.” His fingers trailed up my spine, and his eyes cut.

  A shiver shot through me at the sensation, and I couldn’t find the will to be distant. I needed him. Closer. I needed to forget all that had happened with Amber and just allow myself this time, this last shot at happiness. “Really?”

  Bard nodded. “A lot.” He lifted my shirt, letting his calloused hand graze against my skin.

  “I suppose I missed you, too.” My voice was barely a whisper.

  Bard smiled. He searched my gaze, lifted his hand a bit higher, then settled those eyes on my lips. “I’m sorry, Jessie.”

  “I already discussed this with drunk Bard. We’re good.”

  His eyes cut deeper. “Are we?”

  “Yes.” I pushed closer. “I forgave you for being an idiot. So, let’s not waste any of this time.”

  He released a long, slow breath. “Time.” He cupped my cheek, ran his fingers into my hair. “There’s never going to be enough of that.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  I awoke in a tangle of sleeping bag and discarded clothing. An already lucid Bard rustled the pack behind me, and I turned to find a granola
bar held out. “We should get moving.”

  Something didn’t seem right about him. He was more tense and less warm than he’d been throughout the night.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He offered me a grim smile. “It’s going to be harder now that the storm came through.”

  “How so?” My chest tightened. I sat up straight and looked at him.

  Bard started to say something but paused. He scanned my face, his sharp eyes searching, then turned back to the task of packing up. “It’s nothing. Everything is fine.” He grabbed the end of his sleeping bag and rolled it up. “Let’s go.”

  I untangled myself from the second bedroll and got dressed as he packed it. We worked in silence, him setting us up to leave, and me slowly eating my breakfast with a sense of dread swimming within my chest. We weren’t safe. I could tell by the way he was acting, but he wouldn’t say it to me.

  He wanted me to feel safe, even if I wasn’t.

  Bard grabbed his pack, then hoisted mine up, and handed it to me.

  I hesitated and searched his face.

  He tilted his head and offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re safe, Jessie.”

  I nodded and took the bag from his hand. I wasn’t. We weren’t. But if he wanted to pretend we were, I didn’t see what difference it would make.

  ***

  Rain is an amazing thing, harsh storms even more so. The funny thing about rain is, when it mixes with dirt, you get mud. Where there is a lot of dirt, there will also be a lot of mud. Thick, sticky, foot plopping mud that continuously reaches its muddy hands out and tries to steal the shoes right off your feet.

  That was exactly what happened after the storm. Not only were tree limbs, debris, and all other forms of obstacles scattered within our path, but every so often, I’d run into another patch of said mud and be forced to struggle through.

  It helped that Bard didn’t seem to be having any easier a time with it. Even the amazing wild man himself wasn’t impervious to everything.

  We travelled like that for hours before the rain started back up, and Bard’s mood darkened more and more with each step.

  He didn’t speak. Irritation seemed to seep from his pores and deepened the lines on his face. His lips thinned, jaw tightened and flexed, and he searched. Constant eyes sharpened and shifted about as if the devil himself would pop out at any moment.

  It unnerved the fuck out of me.

  When Bard barked over his shoulder, and pushed me to move faster, I broke. “What the fuck is wrong!”

  He didn’t slow. “We need to move. Another storm is about to hit, and we need to get to the next shelter before it does.”

  I picked my pace up to a run, caught up to his side, then fought to keep up with him as I stared at his profile. That wasn’t all. What he’d said was enough to warrant alarm, but he’d been like this since before we left the cabin. I thought over everything I’d noticed about him, and it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

  “You can’t track them, can you?”

  His hands fisted at his sides. “None of that fucking matters if we don’t get to the shelter before this storm hits.” He lifted his face to the dark, angry clouds in the distance. “I’m more worried about that right now, Jessie.”

  The confirmation felt like a bucket of ice dumped over my head but not because of the storm. I had no doubt in Bard when it came to Mother Nature. He’d keep us safe from her, and she’d keep him safe in return.

  But he didn’t know where they were. Drake could be staring at me right now.

  He could be hunting us.

  My gaze darted around the area, watching, straining to see any signs of my nightmare. Bard pulled me along, either unaware or unconcerned of my panic.

  A roaring echoed in from the distance. “What is that?” I asked, still struggling to keep my footing while being dragged along so quickly.

  “The river,” Bard gritted out.

  That’s when I saw it. An angry mass of watery rapids rushed past us as it cut through the earth. It was both terrifying and awe-inspiring in its fury.

  “Fuck!” Bard exclaimed, dropping my hand and clutching either side of his head. He swung a fist out and slammed his knuckles against the nearest tree.

  I jolted then hurried over to him and laid a hand across one of his heaving shoulders. “What is it?” My voice shook.

  Bard gripped the tree. “The river flooded out our path.” He scanned the area along the bank. “There should be another one, but we need to move.”

  He grabbed my hand and jerked me forward, dragging me behind like useless dead weight.

  The thickening mud by the bank almost made it impossible to walk, but Bard continued to push. The land steepened, rising above the river, and my feet continued to slide out from under me as we climbed the incline.

  When the earth finally leveled out again, Bard abruptly stopped and stiffened. “Fuck!” he roared.

  “It’s gone too?” I eyed the steep drop to my right, and the deadly river at least twenty feet below.

  Bard nodded once and scanned the area again. The sky rumbled, and as if it had been a warning, the clouds opened, and rain poured down in the gallons upon our heads.

  Bard gripped me. “I’m gonna fix this,” he shouted out over the rain. I wasn’t sure if the words were meant for me or himself. “This way!” He led me along the bank, faster and more desperate.

  My feet couldn’t keep their grip. They sunk in the deeper spots and slid off on the shallower areas.

  Bard yanked me up each time I fell and aggressively pushed onwards.

  The rain beat down on us in heavy, stinging lashes. It drenched my clothes and made it even more difficult to stay upright. The ground grew more slippery until Bard began losing his footing as well.

  “There’s a cave ahead!” Bard yelled over his shoulder. “If we can get to it, we can hunker down there!” He didn’t look back for a response.

  The path narrowed, and the earth to the opposite side of us rose until we were walking along a cliff face.

  If possible, Bard’s pace increased. “It’s there! We’re gonna make it! Just a little further, Tequila!” he called back, the tension evident in his voice.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Karma pulled through this time. She decided for once not to be a total bitch to me.

  As if in response to my thoughts, the ground collapsed under my left foot, and the mud was too slippery to grab onto.

  I fell off balance, and the force of it sent me over the ledge. Bard still had my hand and hit the ground on his side. But he didn’t let go, not even a little. His grip was tight, but his eyes were wide and panicked.

  He flipped onto his stomach and pulled his knees up beneath him, and his slippery fingers were the only thing keeping me from plunging to the river below.

  “Hang on! I’m going to pull you up! Can you get a foot hold?”

  His jaw was set, and his muscles bulged and strained. Each time he’d pull, his feet would slide. There was no chance, not with the ground so soft. He couldn’t leverage himself.

  I tried to dig my feet into the cliff, but it was the same. Still, I kept fighting, desperate. Each time my feet slid free and wildly kicked the air.

  Bard grunted and pulled again, harder this time. But the slick ground stole his balance, and he fell into a sitting position with his arms out in front of him.

  He couldn’t do it. I was going to fall.

  I looked over my shoulder and whimpered. Far below me the river raged, calling upwards, taunting me, laughing at me.

  “Don’t look down!” Bard barked, fighting to get back to his feet, pulling with all his strength.

  He looked so desperate. So, determined. So scared.

  We’d only just begun.

  My heart broke.

  “Bard!” I called out over the roaring sounds of the river and the storm.

  He ignored me and continued to pull, only sliding himself further towards the edge.

  “Bar
d!” I screamed.

  “I’ve got you!” he called back. He came dangerously close. He forced his feet back a few steps, only to slide back down again.

  My throat constricted, but my fear of the drop was gone. “You’ll fall too!” I shouted. “Just…let me go!”

  “No!” Bard roared. “I’m pulling you up! You love me?” He yanked hard, sending himself back to the ground. “Fuck!” He stood back up. Sweat beaded his forehead. His arms quivered. “You love me? Show me!”

  He pulled again, but it was no use.

  He would let himself go down with me.

  I looked down again. My whole life flashed before my eyes, much like the day I’d fought to end it. Only this time, I felt regret. I had something worth staying for. I had something to lose.

  I looked back up at Bard and accepted my fate, accepted the inevitable.

  I couldn’t take him with me.

  I loved him.

  I’d give my life to save his.

  He was nearing the edge again, dangerously close to sending us both down.

  He wanted me to show him.

  So, I did.

  My eyes met his, and he knew.

  “Jessie! Don’t you fucking dare! I love you, dammit! Hang on to me!”

  “I love you!” I called one last time then I wrenched my hands from his and fell for the last time. I fell for him, down to the fate karma had for me all along.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  As I fell, my stomach and every other organ lifted as if reaching for the ledge while Karma used rain to push me down faster.

  I sucked in a breath, bit back a scream, and through the sheets of heavy rain, I saw Bard reach out above me.

  His lips moved around an anguished cry, but I couldn’t comprehend the words over the river, the wind, and the pounding of my own heart.

  But I saw him.

  As I fell. As I voluntarily fell to my own death so that he would live. I’d accepted my fate. I’d given my life to save him. My death had a purpose.

  That asshole ruined everything.

  He jumped.

  Bard disappeared only for a moment before he sailed over the edge after me.