by Laura Acton
“Perhaps not.” Loki acknowledged the truth of the statement. He ate less than usual, too, but also recognized his buddy’s condition to be far from stellar. The flush meant the warmth emanating earlier was from a fever, not his closeness to the fire.
Dan managed to take three more bites before giving up the pretense of eating, leaving three-quarters of his serving on his plate. Loki helped Dan to the sofa. After he settled Dan, Loki put the blanket around him before returning to the kitchen to help Scott with the dishes. When finished, they found Dan sleeping again.
Scott woke Dan and assisted him to his bed. Dan nodded off before he left the room. At the doorjamb, he met Loki and murmured, “Hope the storm abates by morning. Danny needs more help than we can give him here.”
Loki nodded. “From your mouth to God’s ears.” He blew out a weary breath and said a silent prayer for a clear day tomorrow.
Cabin – 11:45 p.m.
The fires of hell licked at Dan’s heels as he sprinted from the twelve-winged, red-eyed beast. As talons reached out for him, he dove headfirst into a snowbank, barely escaping the razor-sharp clutches. Dan shivered as he sought shelter in the frozen make-shift igloo. The snow melted as a burst of flames spewed from the monster’s mouth, and the rushing water drenched Dan.
Jolting upright, Dan panted as he took in the familiar, dim surroundings of the bedroom. Gone was the evil beast and snowbank, but his heart thudded a rapid staccato, and sweat dripped down his face. He slowed his breathing as he realized he had been dreaming, but the hellfire of his nightmare left his t-shirt damp and sticking to him.
Scooting to the edge and swinging his feet to the floor, Dan considered if his leg would hold his weight. He glanced at Loki, who appeared to be sound asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb him to ask for assistance to the restroom or to grab a dry shirt.
“Hey, thought I heard something. You okay?” Scott whispered as he stood in the doorway, careful not to wake Loki.
Dan turned to the door. “Yeah, but—”
Scott strode in as he interrupted, “You require a hand.”
“Thanks.” Dan rose with help. “Gotta pee and change shirts.”
“I’ll grab one for you while you use the toilet.” Scott bore a significant portion of Dan’s weight as they shuffled to the bathroom. He returned to the bedroom and pulled a clean shirt from the drawer containing Danny’s clothes. Not wanting to add to his cousin’s discomfiture, Scott waited outside the closed door until water started running in the sink. Pushing the portal open, he held out the shirt to Dan. “Will this one do?”
“Yeah.” After drying his hands, Dan balanced on one leg, removed his drenched shirt, and put on the new one. “Mind helping me to the kitchen?”
“Hungry?”
“No, thirsty.”
“I can bring something to your room.”
“Nah.” Dan raked a hand through his damp hair. “Need a change of location for a few minutes.”
“How about near the fire? Was about to put another log on.”
Dan nodded, and they hobbled to the main room where Dan lowered himself to the couch and propped his right leg up.
“Want me to check your shin?” Scott asked as he moved to the woodpile.
“No. Hurts, but we’ve done all we can for now.”
After putting the huge piece of wood in the hearth and stirring the embers, Scott turned and studied his cousin. “What would you like to drink?”
“Orange juice, please.” Dan drew the soft blanket over himself, shivery yet hot at the same time. He recognized he was running a fever, but he couldn’t do anything about it at the moment.
“Coming up.” Scott strolled to the cooler, obtained the juice, poured two glasses, finishing off the container, and returned to Dan. Handing over one cup, he said, “You don’t look so well. How are you doing?”
“Crappy.” Dan downed half his beverage as Scott sat on the opposite end of the sofa.
“That’s descriptive.” Scott chuckled but eyed Dan, waiting for more.
“Feverish, alternating hot and cold. Leg hurts like a son of a bitch. Head pounding like a jackhammer. Muscles aching, chiefly the shoulder which hit the tree. Still tired, although I slept all day. That descriptive enough for you?”
“Yes. Wish we had something to ease your pain.” Scott peered at Dan. “Thanks for the truth. I realize you struggle with revealing when you hurt.”
“Not with you.” Dan rubbed his head, wishing he could stop the aching.
“But not with your team? You do realize they care about you? Bram and Loki, especially. I still remember all the nights Loki came to sit with you when you were in the coma. He and Lexa were the ones there most often.”
“Yeah, I’m aware … and yes, it is still hard. Part of me balks at showing weakness though another part recognizes they wouldn’t perceive me as weak if I requested help.”
Scott nodded. “I understand. A Broderick trait you got in spades.”
Wanting to change the subject, Dan put on a grin. “Brody would’ve loved this place. We went skiing twice in the time we were MPs, once in Banff and once at Whistler. Wish things would’ve turned out different. I still miss him.”
“Tell me about one of your trips.” Scott recognized Dan needed a distraction from his physical ailments, and talking about fun times Brody might be the best thing.
A genuine smile came to Dan’s face as he recalled Brody’s first attempt at skiing. “The first time we went, Brody fell so many times on the bunny slopes, his cute ski instructor suggested he give up and join her for coffee. When he went off with her, I hit the black diamond runs.
“I linked up with him about two hours later, and Brody was surrounded by three snow bunnies who all wanted to help him learn. He’d never been skiing before, and though he spent more time on his butt, he enjoyed himself enough to go again.”
“Three ladies?”
Dan nodded. “Yeah, they all had eyes for him. He could’ve …” Dan trailed off when he realized Brody would’ve never entertained one, let alone three, women in his bed.
Scott chuckled. “Like the triplets in Halifax?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like them.” Dan snickered. “Truthfully, Lacy, Stacy, and Macy were even a little too wild for Sinner.”
“Based on a few things they whispered, yeah, not quite my cup of tea either.” Scott finished his drink and broached a touchy subject. “How are things with Jon, Nick, and Lexa?”
“Mostly, okay. I think Boss understood the attraction went both ways, and he is giving us time to return to our previous rapport. Jon? Well, I’m not sure I’ll ever quite get a bead on him. We are both stubborn, and yeah, it is what it is. I respect him, though. Jon’s an excellent tactical leader, and I can learn a lot from him like I did Blaze, Winds, and Mason.”
After turning to check the open bedroom door he shared with Loki, Dan lowered his voice, “I was an ass to Lexa. Not one of my finest moments when I sang that damned song. I hurt her and disliked myself afterward. Things are slowly improving. I want her to be happy.”
“Even if it isn’t with you?” Scott posed the tough question.
Dan sighed. “She was dating this guy, Duke, a rescue fireman. Pissed me off. Yeah, I want her happiness, but I’m not ready to think about her with someone else.”
“Wish things turned out differently for you. But I hope you don’t let this change you like losing Sophia did to Adam.”
“I believe our situations are different. Sophia died, which blindsided Adam. He lost his soulmate.”
“You were as much blindsided by what happened. I know everyone says Broderick men love only once … might be true or a load of bullshit. I hope you don’t close your eyes and heart to other possibilities like Adam. Our cousin shut himself off, and accepted he would be a loner because his one and only died, when in reality, there may be another woman if Adam allowed himself to be open to the possibility.”
“Let’s drop this, please. I’m not up to discussing this furth
er.” Dan shifted, wincing as he moved his leg.
“Want to go back to bed?”
“Not yet. Monsters were chasing me in my dreams … need a respite.”
“What kind of monster?”
“One I hadn’t dreamt of in ages. Remember when I used to hide on the top shelf in Sara’s closet at night with my Nerf gun?”
“Yeah. On overwatch even as a kid.”
“Same twelve-winged thing I believed wanted to steal her from me. This time it kept grabbing at my leg. Weird dream.” Dan pushed the covers off him, rotating from being cold then hot. “Reminded me of when I climbed high up in the trees to reach the white-winged man with golden hair. Perhaps talking about tree spirits at dinner put those thoughts in my head.”
Scott smiled at his cousin’s imagination, but wanting to give Dan something else to focus on, he remarked, “So, Loki doesn’t like being in a forest. Think being snowbound will scare him away from another ski trip or camping this summer?”
“Not sure. Tried a lot of desensitization exercises with him. Mountain biking in the trails around Toronto. Fairly tame stuff. But his phobia is rooted in both irrational fears and bad experiences. Kind of like Brody’s fear of flying. Hard to break.
“Been nice having a buddy to hang out with after work. Loki is fun to be around. I wasn’t sure in the beginning. Didn’t want to step on toes since Ray and Loki are as tight as Brody and I were, but with Ray getting married, I think, well, Loki might need a friend too.”
Nodding, Scott remarked, “Marriage can change some friendships, but from what you told me of Loki and Ray, plus what I observed last summer, they are more like brothers, and their relationship will endure. But I agree, Loki’s a great guy. I’m glad you’re developing a friendship with him outside of work. It is good for you.”
Dan gave Scott a nod.
“Any plans in the near future with Blaze, Winds, or Mason?”
“They’re all deployed, and I’m not sure when they’ll return. When they do, we’re taking a trip to Ripsaw’s hometown with Jim to pay our respects.” Dan yawned and shifted his sock-covered feet to the wooden floor. “I’m ready to go back to bed.”
Recognizing Dan’s deflection, Scott stood and extended his hand, smiling when Dan grasped it without reluctance. He enjoyed their little heart-to-heart talk … they had not had one in a long time. Acting as Dan’s crutch, they made their way back to the bedroom, and he settled Dan on the mattress. “Night. I’ll recheck your leg after breakfast and make a decision on whether to go for your meds.”
Dan peered up at Scott. “You’re not going anywhere if the storm is still raging. You have a beautiful, loving wife and two kids, so you can’t be taking risks. They need you.”
Not wanting to fight, Scott nodded but couldn’t stop from stating, “You’re worth the risk.” He turned and exited the room, not giving Dan a chance to respond.
Staring at the empty doorway, Dan shook his head. I won’t allow you to take a risk for me since forgetting my medication in the suburban is my own damned fault. He lay down and gazed out the window at the starless night as he pulled the still damp sheet over him. He kicked it off, and tugged the blanket on instead and closed his eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep.
Holding a Gossamer Thread
23
November 24
Lexa’s Home – 3:45 a.m.
Driven by an urgent need, Lexa plowed through the whiteout, her hand gripping the thin, glittering, golden line which linked her to an unknown. Wearing only her flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top, she slogged through the deep snowbank. Though wishing she had her pink slippers, she found it quite odd the cold never touched her feet … as mystifying as the sapphire and amethyst butterflies fluttering around, whispering for her to hurry.
Hand-over-hand, knowing she could not lose hold of the gossamer thread or something terrible would happen, Lexa continued as the storm buffeted her body. Dread increased, and her pulse raced as darkness appeared ahead of her. She redoubled her efforts, running as fast as her short legs could propel her forward, to something undefined, yet undeniably important. She tripped, stood, sprinted, fell again, rose, and her hand lost contact with the golden lifeline as malevolent laughter wafted in with the shriek of the wind.
Unwilling to fail, she blindly reached out, searching with her heart, and as the warmth of the line once again graced her palm, she closed her fingers around the thread. Exhaustion overcame her, but she pushed onward with determination. Almost at the end of her stamina, Lexa stopped for a breath, and she spotted the little boy curled up in the snowbank.
So tiny and vulnerable, every fiber of her being pulled towards the exposed, golden-haired child. She ignored fatigue and ran to him as a chilling blackness sent tentacles out, their destination, the unprotected boy. She sensed if they coiled around his body, all would be lost. Lexa shouted for the child to get up and run, but he continued to lay still all balled up.
Lexa reached him, scooped him up, and headed for the trees as the butterflies told her to do. Arriving at the bottom of one, she yelled, “Climb!”
The youngster gripped the lowest limb and scurried up like a little monkey. Lexa smiled, believing she saved him from the evil trying to envelop him. Her sense of purpose solidified, she always desired to help people, and this was another successful rescue. She stepped back, peering upward as the little scamp climbed, and whimsical fairies flittered around him, encouraging him upward to a gorgeous white-winged angel with the most intriguing sapphire eyes.
Everything changed when a tentacle came from nowhere and wrapped around the child’s lower right shin, yanked, and the boy’s painful scream rent the air, piercing her to the core. Frozen in place, Lexa gasped as he lost his grip and plummeted to the earth. The black tendril began to grow, as a disembodied voice said, “He will be mine. You failed to protect him.”
Fury and fear combined in an instant, and Lexa drew forth a gleaming sword … from where she had no clue … it just appeared, and she knew what she must do. With every ounce of her strength, Lexa brought the blade down on the tentacle. The screech of millions of souls in agony filled her ears as she severed the hold the demon had on the terrified child.
Lexa dropped to her knees, the sword disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she gazed at the snowbank. Instead of a small boy, she viewed a full-grown man. Recognition slammed her with gale force. “Dan?”
He blinked, once, twice, three times before his sorrow-filled eyes locked on her fearful ones as he mouthed, “I’m sorry. I failed.”
Bolting upright, Lexa panted, and her eyes darted around her room. Her pulse beat rapidly as she breathed out, “Dan.”
Throwing off her covers, the chill of her bedroom hit her, and she reached for her fluffy robe. She shoved her feet into a new pair of slippers she purchased yesterday, blue ones with little butterflies on them, replacements for the pink power ranger pair Dan bought for her, and she sent back to him.
A sense something was very wrong drove her down the hall to the bedroom she set up as an office. The image of Dan lying in the snow while peering up at her with soul-deep sorrow filled her with dread. After she turned on her computer, she hugged herself as it booted up. The memory of seeing his face in the shimmering water and glass shard on her kitchen floor a few days after she broke up with him came back to her.
She now knew that was the night Brogan Snow and his goons first beat Dan. Although the concept of a link between them disconcerted her, as she didn’t believe in the paranormal, Lexa couldn’t dismiss the sensation Dan might be in trouble and need help.
Lexa opened the internet browser and searched for the Blue Mountains weather report. No change, still snowing, below zero with the windchill factored in. She sat back in her chair and exhaled.
“Why are you sorry? Why do you think you failed?” Lexa spoke to the empty room, searching for answers which wouldn’t come from a figment of her subconscious. She bit her lower lip as anguish lanced her
heart. The silence and stillness of her home surrounded Lexa as she attempted to make sense of the images from her dream.
After several minutes, Lexa gave up, but his eyes still haunted her. Noting the time, and though early, she realized she wouldn’t be able to return to sleep, so she rose and went downstairs. Requiring something else to focus on, Lexa decided to start early on her project today.
Forcing herself to push the disturbing thoughts to the background, Lexa contemplated what color to paint the wall after she finished texturing. Various shades of gold, blue, and purple came to mind, but she flinched when a sickly yellowish-green color intruded. Shivering, she pressed the button on her coffeemaker, needing a hot drink to warm up.
As she stared at the brew dripping into the carafe, her mind returned to the black tentacles reaching for Dan. “What does that mean?” Lexa conceded Dan had a past full of dreadful experiences. He feared failure and showing weakness more than anything, but none of that accounted for the content of her nightmarish dream. Still unsettled, Lexa realized she wouldn’t solve an irrational set of images created by her subliminal mind with rational thoughts, so put it out of her head as she moved to the cabinet to grab a mug.
Cabin – 3:45 a.m.
Rolled up in a ball on his bed, Dan shivered as he tugged the covers tighter. He wanted the pounding in his head to stop. On some level, he recognized the headache morphed into a migraine during his restless night. He suffered them on rare occasions, and they muddled his thinking. The last time he had one was after he shot Ray in the arm to save Boss, Bram, Ray, and the hostages. That time the pain became so intense, his world shifted, leaving him utterly confused.
Consumed by his throbbing head and building nausea, Dan forgot his wound as his need to hurl overrode everything else. Struggling to get out from under the blanket, Dan ended up on the floor with one leg still twisted in the damp linen, which remained tucked in at the foot of the mattress. With a hard yank, the sheet gave way from the bed, but still encased his lower limb.
