by Wendy Cole
My back hit the water, and a thousand shards of glass bit into my flesh. It knocked the air from my lungs, swallowed me up in thrashing mud, and tossed me in all directions. I flailed my arms and legs, fighting to get to the surface but too disoriented to even know where that was.
Each attempt failed, and with every passing second, the burn in my lungs turned to needles. White blurred the edges of my vision, and I was about to give in; take a lungful of that deadly water and allow fate to have me…
But something gripped my shirt and a pair of familiar arms circled my waist.
Bard pulled me to the surface, struggling to hold my weight against the torrential current.
“I’ve got you!” he heaved, his voice harsh and strained.
I gasped and spluttered, desperate for air, but the river continued to smack into my mouth and steal it.
Bard gripped me tight and pulled the bag off my back then did the same to his.
“Hang on to it!” he yelled, gripping his own in front of him. Surprisingly, they floated, which made no sense to me, but I was too focused on surviving to question it.
I clung to the pack; survival instincts set to high, and desperately fought to keep my head above the surface.
“The log!” Bard motioned to a fallen tree ahead of us. “Grab it!”
We were moving so fast. It was impossible to see. The scenery flew by too quickly to focus on any one thing before the river changed our direction again. We were nothing but more debris being carried away, rejected by Mother Nature herself.
But I focused on that damn log. Each time the water would whip me, I’d wildly search until I found it again, and my heart thundered as the crucial moment drew nearer. We were almost there. A few feet. A foot less. There…
I lunged and barely caught hold of the coarse bark with the tips of my fingers. It dug in and cut my skin, but I clutched with all the force I had. I couldn’t let go.
Bard reached around and grabbed on to a knuckle coming off the side. “Pull, Jessie! Pull yourself forward!”
I tried, but my upper body strength was no match for the watery demon fighting to yank us downstream. “I can’t!”
Bard grunted. His hand palmed my back while his other held the log in a strained grip. He pushed me with another grunt. It was an angry sound as if he were yelling at his own limbs to be stronger. Once further up, I was able to get a better grip on the tree and help pull us along.
“That’s it. Almost there,” he huffed.
My fingers dug into the muddy bank, and a loud crack rattled my frame. The log shifted and groaned. I clutched hold of mud and rock as it started to roll over.
“Head east! The next shelter is east!” Bard shoved me so hard, it toppled me the rest of the way and broke the log free from its position.
It carried him with it.
“No!” I struggled to my knees but couldn’t make it to my feet. I couldn’t go after him. I couldn’t help. This wasn’t supposed to happen! It was supposed to be me!
“I’ll come for you!” Bard bellowed out. The water pulled him under, then spit him up, and swallowed him again.
I watched it pull him away, too beaten to stand to do anything, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears had never done anything. Tears never solved problems, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. They filled my eyes, tumbled past my lids, and rolled down my cheeks. A sob ripped out of me, then another. Then a desperate sound unlike any I’d have thought myself capable of.
I curled in on myself, a blubbering mess on the banks of that godforsaken river. I was truly broken, freezing cold, sopping wet, and heavy in more ways than one.
Yet the river kept moving. The sun set like it did on any other day, and the rain settled to a light drizzle. Time passed like it didn’t know that the world had just ended, and I sat there, waiting, praying Bard would come walking towards me. He could glare at me for not doing what he’d asked me to do and scream at me for sacrificing myself.
He never came, but as the sky darkened, revealing that same starry sky he’d shown me all those weeks ago, it did.
The North Star.
Go east.
He’d find me. Bard would find me. He’d come to the shelter. I had to believe it. If he didn’t, then…
It didn’t matter. I needed to believe in him. Bard was strong. He was stronger than anyone I’d ever met. If anyone could survive, it was him.
I lifted myself on wobbling legs, took a moment to gather my bearings, then forced myself to move in the direction I was supposed to go.
The pack felt heavier. My limbs were weak, but I just kept telling myself that I needed to move. I needed to get where Bard would find me.
The wildlife sang its whispering song, and the trees cast shadows along the forest floor. Limbs became spindly fingers. The wind became footsteps. The trees condensed and blocked out the stars, but I swallowed my panic and pushed forward, begging karma to guide me, begging her to bring him back as I promised things in return. I’d let her win. I’d give myself. I’d spend my life under that bridge or in that room. I’d take a thousand more beatings, anything, if she’d just drag his ass out of that river alive and breathing. I clung to the hope that my desperate pleading made a difference; that, in some strange way, I was helping.
He would find me. He would get himself out. He was made for this. He wouldn’t have jumped if…
But he would have. I knew he would have, and I didn’t know if he made it. Without his sure steps beside me, I was walking through a nightmare. I was a target. Eyes lit up the foliage when the moon cut through the trees, and whatever creature they belonged to watched me like the intruder that I was. Unwelcome.
I didn’t belong here. Bard did. I wasn’t meant for this place, and it was as if nature itself knew it.
I remembered watching him track, so I left signs of myself. It was not just my footprints, although the rain had dulled enough that hopefully he would be able to find them. I pulled pieces of my hair, left bits of food out of the pack, broke the branches on bushes intentionally, struggling to leave any sign I could think of.
He would find me.
I almost walked right passed it. It was nothing but branches and leaves stacked against a large tree. I inspected the makeshift hut, found the spot where the limbs could be pulled aside, and dipped into it.
I pulled my knees up to my chest and shivered.
Bard would find me.
I repeated the words over and over until the sun rose and the rain stopped completely.
I sat motionless, my drooping eyes unwilling to close.
Bard would find me.
With the daylight came quiet. All the nocturnal creatures returned to their own homes to sleep and relinquished the world to softer sounds like chirping birds and light breezes.
I strained my ears for him. He would come. He had to come.
The more time that passed, the more torturous my imagination grew: Bard at the bottom of the river, Bard motionless on the bank. Each new image ripped away a part of my heart. Each new scenario stole my breath. I tried to push it all away, but alone and wet and exhausted and broken, it was impossible.
Then, it happened. The crunch of footsteps.
A relieved sob ripped out of me. I shoved the pack to the side and scrambled out with shaking limbs. My heart called out to him. My arms ached to hold him close, and my body ached to be held. My fisted hands wanted to beat him for jumping off that cliff.
Instead, the whole world collapsed around me.
Drake’s grin matched the ones of the men behind him. They were all grinning except for Fred whose sadness let me know I’d fucked up. I’d gone too far. It was over.
“There she is.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
Drake took a taunting drag from his cigarette then tapped the ash to the ground between us and ran a thumb across his bottom lip.
“I never would have looked for you here.” He tilted his head. “In the mountains. All this time, I’ve been checking bridges and
street corners.” He took another drag and blew the smoke out extra slow. “Then I find out who your PO is, and low and behold, he leads one of the guys up here.” He threw the butt down, stomped on it, and motioned to our surroundings. “To the mountains…These ones of all places.”
My breath held as if it were too afraid to come out. I already knew where he was going. He was leading up to it like a cat playing with the mouse. He enjoyed the buildup; the head games.
“Why?” His eyes sent a clear message. It was a test. Do not lie to me, they said. “What brought you here?”
He knew.
I took an unconscious step back and tripped into the shelter behind me. The structure collapsed beneath my weight, and a mess of branches and leaves swallowed me as I hit the ground.
Drake laughed. “Dammit, Jessie. Now you fucked that up, too!” The other men rumbled laughter, but Drake didn’t pay attention to them. His eyes stayed glued to mine, and the smile slowly fell. “That was some fucking legit-looking shit you built.” He motioned to the pile, his gaze thoughtful. “But…You don’t know how to do shit like that. Do you?” He scratched his chin. “So, who built it?”
I swallowed hard and fought to get back to my feet. I needed to be ready. I needed to get into stance. There was no way I could take them all, but dammit if I wouldn’t try. He wouldn’t take me without a fight.
“Who helped you?” he bit out. It echoed in the early morning quiet and kickstarted my heart.
My eyes strayed over to Fred, my only friend among the group. He couldn’t help me. I already knew that, but just seeing his face steadied me.
“Did you fuck him?”
My heart stopped and cold dread settled over my skin.
He knew.
Drake knew about Bard.
Even worse, Drake knew me. As much as I hated to admit it, Drake knew me better than most, and my reaction said a thousand words.
All it took was one step. One minuscule movement from him, and I lashed out. Hours upon hours of training, and it was all for this moment. I swung low, landed a right punch to his ribs, and Drake grunted, stumbled, clutched his side, and turned his enraged eyes to me.
I froze. All the training I’d had meant nothing in the face of my own fear.
I hit him.
Drake was on me fast. He gripped my hair and jerked my head backwards. I bit back a cry and struggled to twist out of his hold, but it felt like my scalp would rip away.
“You, fucking bitch!” He jerked me back again, threw me to the ground, then kicked me hard enough to crack my ribs.
My knees curled upwards. My arms circled my head. I gasped for breath, but it wouldn’t come. He’d knocked it all out of me, and my lungs were too broken to try.
Drake nudged me with the toe of his boot. “Where is he?”
I couldn’t answer.
Another kick, harder than before. I coughed, and blood spattered the grass beside me.
Drake knelt and ran a hand across my mouth. Sticky red coated his fingers. He pulled them up to his face and studied it with a sick sort of fascination.
“Where is he, Jessie?” His voice quieted.
I managed to drag in a raspy breath then wheezed out, “He’s gone.”
“What do you mean he’s gone?” He gripped my hair and pulled my face closer. “You did this to yourself. Just answer the question. You know I don’t want to do this to you.”
Bile rose into my throat. The hell you don’t.
“He’s dead,” I rasped, voice hollow and distant. The odds that it was true were too great to ignore, and the admission broke me more than Drake ever could.
“That’s a shame.” Drake dropped my head and turned away. “Fred, help her. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”
Fred eyed the tree line. “You sure she’s telling the truth?”
Drake walked away without a backwards glance. “If she isn’t, he’ll come to us.”
“C’mon, girl.” Fred gently pulled me up then cast a careful glance over his shoulder. When the other men made it a few feet ahead of us, his eyes met mine. “You’ve never been stupid, Jessie. You had to know he would find you.” His voice was barely audible, and the other men trailed after Drake like flies after a piece of shit. “Then you hit him? He’s gotten worse since you left. You need to try and stay out of his way.”
I choked a laugh. “I was out of his way. He could have just left me alone.”
His lips pursed. “He’s obsessed with you, girl. The boy’s not right. Nobody will question him.” He cast another furtive glance then pulled me along at a slow pace. “He’s killed five men since you disappeared, and two more have gone missing.” He kept a steady hand under my arm, gaze sharp on the backs of the men in front of us. “Just…keep your head down. Don’t go fighting him. Don’t admit to anything. He wants you back. If you play it nice…”
“I’d rather die,” I spat.
Fred shook me. “Keep it up, and you just might.”
I turned my gaze forward and gritted my teeth. I knew that. I expected it. If Bard was truly gone, what did it matter anyway?
“We don’t have all fucking day!” Drake barked back at us.
Fred’s jaw squared, but he quickened our pace, and the conversation dropped.
I didn’t fault him. It was the way things were. It was just the way this kind of life worked. It was all about survival. It was you against the world, and Fred couldn’t help me without getting himself killed in the process.
And for what?
Drake would kill me anyway. No. I didn’t fault Fred. Fred cared, and that was more than I could say about most people.
Or, at least, it used to be more.
Until Bard cared. Just like everything else about him, it was more. He cared enough to sacrifice himself to save me.
Drake shot a look over his shoulder then turned to one of the men beside him. “Which way?”
The man shrugged and pointed to the blonde at Drake’s left.
Drake’s jaw clenched as he turned his gaze over. “Which way?” he asked again, his tone tighter.
Blondie stiffened under the sudden attention then looked around as if a sign would suddenly appear to point the way.
“You mean to tell me not one of you motherfuckers thought to keep track of where the fuck we were going?”
The men fell silent.
I looked around the group. They weren’t made for this any more than I was. I couldn’t help myself. A laugh bubbled out of my chest, small at first, then louder. Fred shook me, but the sound wouldn’t stop.
I’d finally lost it. I’d gone insane.
Drake turned his dark eyes on me. “You think this is funny?” His voice was the calm before the storm. I knew it. I’d heard it. I knew what happened next.
But, for some reason, I didn’t give a single shit.
He stared me down from my feet and back up again. “Do you know how to get out of here?”
I did.
I laughed harder; large, guffawing, Zeke-style laughter.
“I do!” I cried out, clutching my stomach as tears pooled into my eyes.
Drake seemed to grow less and less patient. He didn’t like being taunted, and my laughter was just that. Disrespect. He’d tortured men for less.
“Bring her to me,” he directed at Fred with his eyes never leaving mine.
Fred didn’t move an inch. “I think she’s delirious.”
Drake’s glare could have singed every hair off the old man’s face. “I said…Bring. Her. To. Me.”
Fred stiffened. His grip on my arm tightened, but after a moment’s pause, and a long look around the group, he gave in and led me forward.
My laughter died at the inevitable threat, but no fear arrived to take its place. What could he do that he hadn’t already done? Bard was gone. My back was fucked. My life wasn’t worth anything.
I was immune.
The minute we were within reach, Drake wrenched me from his uncle’s arms. “You’ve gotten awful ballsy.” He
held me by my biceps and leveled his threatening eyes with mine. “I wonder why that is.” He released one arm to grip my chin.
I shrugged, ignored the bite of his fingers against my jaw, and met his gaze head on. I was done cowering for him. He didn’t get to have that power over me. Not anymore. I was stronger. Bard had shown me that. He’d shown me that I was more.
“Maybe…” I batted my lashes at him. “Maybe, he literally fucked my brains out.”
His brows lifted in surprise, but he bared his teeth. He released my chin, jerked his hand to the waist band of his jeans, and whipped a gun to my temple.
The world froze.
“Do you want to die?”
The cool metal dug into my skin, and as much as I wanted to challenge him further, my natural human reaction wouldn’t let me. Survival instincts kicked in, and my brain refused to do anything other than try to prevent my death. My pulse quickened, eyes widened, and lips locked shut.
Drake sneered. “That shut you up real good now, didn’t it? Are you going to lead us out of here?”
I nodded, then heaved a breath when he lowered the gun.
“Which way?”
I pointed in a random direction. The truth was, without the stars, I was just as lost as they were. But even with the stars, I had no plans to lead them out.
I wasn’t leaving the mountain without Bard, not unless death himself removed me from it.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
With the loss of rain, Mother Nature did a complete one eighty and brought the temperature up to a scalding, blistering heat.
The trees helped to shade us but did nothing against the humidity. They blocked any breeze that may have come as a reprieve and enclosed us in a natural sauna. Sweat soaked my shirt, my brows, and rolled down into my eyes.
Drake’s temper flared as if the heat itself were stoking it. The longer the day drew on, the worse he got. The men started to give him a wide berth after he lashed out the first time. They scattered about, no longer flies but dogs. They were irritably hot, ugly, well-trained dogs trailing behind the man that owned them.
We travelled like that for hours. All of us were on edge. No one wanted to be the next one to piss him off.
