by A L Crouch
Donovan was beside me again. “Only as long as we have to. Come on, it’s almost dark.”
When we arrived at the base of the pine I saw that there were planks nailed along the side of the tree for use as a make-shift ladder up to the platform. From this perspective, even in the dark, the platform seemed a mile high.
“Must I keep reminding people that I have an issue with heights?” I pouted.
“I know you do, but this height may just save your life. Take it one wrung at a time.”
I looked once more at the height and then to the surrounding forest, now almost completely immersed in black, and began to climb. My legs wobbled and the gash in my thigh stung each time I lifted my leg to the next wrung. I had to rely on my arm strength to pull myself up to each one. This time I didn’t look down as I ascended bit by bit from the shadows below into the last shards of evening light.
Near the top my knee buckled from under me and my feet slipped free of the wrung below, forcing me to cling to the top wrung with all the strength left in my arms. My wet feet flailed as they kicked and searched for their foothold. Panic took hold of me as my arms began to lose strength and I started to slip. I reached for Donovan and started to scream his name, but before I could I felt his grip on my arms.
“I’ve got you. I told you I wasn’t going to let you fall,” he grunted and I felt him pull.
I glanced up to him and in the feeble, dying twilight I could see Donovan’s muscled silhouette stooped down to help me. Gasping, I realized I could feel his grip on me, warm and solid. At last my foot found it’s foothold on the wrung and I strained to keep my eyes on him as I pushed myself to the top of the platform. His muscular arms pulled me as I flung my legs safely over.
I struggled to sit up, desperate to hold the image of him in my eyes. He sat beside me on the platform, his form no more distinguishable than a shadow and fading with the sky’s light. I reached out my hand to touch him.
“You can see me,” he whispered.
“Yes,” I answered and my eyes welled with tears.
Through moist eyelids I watched as Donovan reached for me and the last of the sun’s light faded into black. I blinked back the tears and let them roll onto my cheeks. When I opened my eyes his silhouette was gone, lost to the darkness that consumed the forest around us.
Heartbroken, I cried out and bowed my head. I let disappointment and exhaustion seize me and I wept.
“I can’t . . .”
“Sshh, it’s alright. I told you before, when your heart is ready, you will see me.”
I lifted my head and looked at the spot where I knew he looked back at me.
“Right now, my heart has never wanted anything more in my whole life,” I whispered.
I felt Donovan’s hand on my cheek. I closed my eyes and imagined him there in front of me.
“I thought I could do this,” I whispered. “I thought I could bring my mom’s murderer to justice, but I’m tired Donovan. I’m tired of running from shadows. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of being afraid.”
I heard Donovan’s sympathetic sigh in the darkness.
“I wish that I could tell you that it will all be over soon, but that’s something I just don’t know,” he said, and I could feel the strumming, slow and gentle against me. “But I do know that you will make it through this, that you are strong enough. You are going to persevere.”
I let out a ragged breath. “How do you know that?”
His hand brushed the side of my face again.
“Because you have to. And because I am here to eliminate any other option.”
“You said before that you don’t have to be here, that you want to be,” I said wiping my eyes on my shoulder. “Why?”
I heard him take a deep breath. I felt him pull away.
“Because you are why I exist . . . why I even want to. You are everything to me.”
I could hear the anguish in his voice, but I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to tell him that I felt the same way. How could I even begin to explain to him what he meant to me? He had saved my life more than once, twice, a dozen times. But more importantly I knew that wherever Donovan was, I would consider that my home. He reminded me that I was never alone and I never wanted to be without him. But before I could form the words I heard him clear his throat.
“You need some rest. You’ll be safe up here tonight. You should really try and get some sleep,” he said.
When I wiped my face with my hands I was startled by how cold they were. In fact, now that I had stopped moving the chill was becoming overwhelming. I longed for my jacket or even the muddied sweater that I had left behind.
Shivering and exhausted, I laid down as close to the base of the tree as I could in order to escape the razor-like night wind. Curling myself into a ball, I tucked my bare arms into my legs to harvest as much body heat as I could from my core. While the dense plywood beneath me was hard and unforgiving, I was thankful that my body could rest at last. I searched the dark for the sound of Donovan and heard the strumming beside me. The fact that the strumming was becoming more faint and slow was worrisome, but my mind was too weary to question it. I was satisfied that he was there.
A hefty breeze stung my cheeks and arms and chilled my legs through my damp jeans. I waited for it to pass and then curled in tighter and braced myself for the next cruel gust. What came instead was soothing warmth. It wrapped around my chilled arms and held onto me, shielding me from the wind. The warmth covered the back of my damp, weary legs, and pressed against my head. My body eased and the shivering stopped. I knew that Donovan was lying beside me, holding me close to him.
“You’ll make yourself weak, touching me like this. Your energy, what if you need it?”
“Right now you need it more.”
I closed my eyes and let his warmth surround me and the strumming calm me. I knew it would drain him, interacting with me this physically, but I was too thankful, too wrapped up in the safety of him to care. I rested against the strength of his arms and let the black, dreary night melt away.
“Talk to me,” I whispered.
“What do you want me to talk about?”
“Anything. I just want to hear your voice,” I answered. “Talk about those years in Chicago . . . those years I can’t remember you. After the accident.”
The night was silent for a moment, and then Donovan’s voice, like smooth satin, filled my ears.
“Do you remember that night you snuck out of your Aunt and Uncle’s house? You were barely fifteen and you took their car out for a joy ride. You drove around town for an hour and then just parked on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Do you remember that?”
I snickered. “You saw that?”
“You got out and climbed onto the roof and lay there for hours staring up at the sky until the sun started to rise.”
“I remember. That was so long ago,” I said, my mind growing heavy with sleep.
“For me it was as close as yesterday. Your whole life, to me, has been a handful of days and at the same time forever,” he whispered. “You talked while you lay there. It was as if you were talking right to me. Do you remember?”
“What was I talking about?”
I let Donovan’s familiar voice ease me into forgetting where we were and what we were hiding from. I journeyed with him into the past and closer to welcomed slumber.
“You talked about your parents, about missing this place,” Donovan said. “You talked about school, about how different you felt from everyone else. You were angry.”
“Teenage ranting,” I shrugged. “Sorry you had to hear it.”
“I’m not,” he assured me. “I think you knew I was listening. I think you needed me to listen. Just like I needed you to tell me what you were feeling. Your never spoke about what was going on inside until that night atop the car. Somewhere inside you, you knew I was there.”
I could barely hear him speaking, my mind teetered on the brink of consciousness. The warmth of his b
ody surrounding me filled me from the inside out. I tried to stay with him, tried to focus.
“I think I’ve always known . . .” I answered more asleep than awake.
For a minute not a sound but the gentle strumming filled the space around us and I drifted further away into the welcomed numbness of sleep, taking Donovan’s gentle voice with me.
“You asked me a question that night, I’m not even sure you knew what you were asking,” he continued, a whisper against my ear. “You said that if God never gave anyone more than they could handle, why did he have to make you so strong to begin with? ‘Why me?’ you asked. What made you so special?”
I sighed, barely aware that I was still speaking. “You . . . never answered me . . .”
I felt Donovan’s warmth on my check and my breathing slowed and my mind was carried away with the sound of the muted, tender strumming. I heard his voice as it flowed with me, but the words lost their meaning as I was finally lost to blissful sleep.
“I did answer you,” he had whispered. “I said . . . everything.”
Chapter 13
I struggled and shoved against the seat that pinned me, but it would not budge. The footsteps approached, crunching and snapping the dead leaves with merciless persistence. I tried to scream, but the weight on my chest crushed my lungs. I squeezed my eyes shut and fought against the pain. I attempted to sink into my seat in order to hide, but I couldn’t move. Then I heard a voice smooth and deep, and a gentle strumming beside me.
“Alexandra, come with me.”
I opened my eyes and saw the dark figure beside me reach for me through the open door. The seat that had pinned me was gone and my lungs gasped, unobstructed, the wet night air. I leapt up and grasped his hand, which he held out to me and he helped me to my feet. We ran though the darkened woods, my legs snagging on the dead branches and prickly shrubs. I could barely see, but followed his dark frame as we delved deeper and deeper into the darkness.
Tripping on a fallen tree branch, I screamed out and lost my grip on his hand. When I looked up I could not distinguish his figure from the surrounding shadows. The strumming was too faint. I couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from. I searched the woods frantically with my eyes, my ears heard the strumming slow and fade into nothingness. Before I could cry out to him, I caught a glimpse of his figure standing in a clearing before me.
Relieved, I ran to him, arms outstretched. But when I reached him, his image evaporated and my arms embraced nothing but rain and smoke. When the haze dissipated I stared in horror at the huge white fangs in front of me that glistened in the dim moonlight. The massive red eyes of the great beast glowed and burned into my flesh as it snarled and barked at me sending shrieking echoes throughout the sinister night. The last thing I saw before it charged was the glint from the amulet which adorned its neck; a twisting metallic serpent, dripping with blood.
I stifled a cry when I woke up to total darkness. My breathing came in shallow pants as I struggled to remember where I was.
“It’s okay,” Donovan whispered from beside me.
I could still feel his warmth around me and I remembered with trepidation that we were still in the hunting platform fifty feet in the air. The night was still ruling the sky and I scolded myself for waking before the relief of dawn. But then I heard what had woken me.
Barking. In the distance, interrupting the constant sway of the breeze through the trees came the low, guttural wails of several large dogs. I shot up, feeling the assault of the frigid night air on my bare skin and reeling against the dizziness that followed.
“Dogs,” I whispered. “Is it a search party?”
“I think . . . it may be,” Donovan answered weakly.
I got to my feet, clinging to the base of the tree for support.
“Why didn’t you wake me up? We have to call to them!”
When he didn’t answer I searched the platform for his figure. Still unable to see him, I listened for the strumming. It was still there, faint and slow.
“ . . . was waiting for them . . . to get closer,” he half whispered, half groaned.
“You made yourself weak keeping me warm. You used too much energy,” I gasped.
I hesitated, concerned, and then strained to see out into the wilderness. The barking dogs were getting closer; I could hear the leaves crunching beneath their prancing paws. I cupped my hands around my mouth to call out.
“Wait!” Donovan strained to yell.
I dropped my hands.
“Let’s just wait . . . see who it is. To be sure.”
Heeding Donovan’s caution, I crouched down and waited, all my senses searching the night for sounds of movement. The dogs barked excitedly as they charged forward with precision upon the debris covered earth. I heard footsteps stomping and plodding behind them, hurrying to keep up. My heart rose into my throat and my eyes fixed in the direction of the barking. When they got closer still, I could see a single stream of light darting and bobbing as it approached.
“Alex!” I heard the familiar voice call into the dark.
“It’s Sulley,” I sighed with relief and started for the edge of the platform.
Before I reached the edge to climb down I felt Donovan’s hand on my shoulder.
“Let’s see . . . if anyone is with him,” he panted, “before we give away your position.”
Before I could argue I saw a second beam of light trailing behind Sulley. It moved slower, the lighter footsteps straining to keep up.
“Maybe that’s Will,” I said, excitement and relief urging me forward. I began to climb down on shaky limbs using all my strength to steady myself.
“Alexandra, please . . . be careful. I haven’t got all my strength. If he’s still out there . . .” Donovan cautioned from the platform.
I was too relieved to heed his warning, too exhausted to consider any possibility but a return to safety. I was almost down from the tree but I paused to look up to where I heard his voice.
“Thank you Donovan . . . for my life,” I said and then climbed the rest of the way down.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I heard him breathe before I ran in the direction of the flashlights in the near distance.
“Alex!” Sulley shouted into the woods again and again, desperation thick in his voice.
“Uncle Sulley!! Over here!” I cried back, my throat hoarse.
Sulley’s voice was excited and frantic and yelled over the barking dogs.
“Over here! I found her! Get on the radio now!”
I fought past the downed limbs and brush, my legs sore and unsteady, and rounded a final tree towards the lights. I came to a sudden stop at the sight of three frenzied hounds, which snarled and lunged at me, their teeth glistening in the moonlight.
“Down now! Down!” Sulley yelled and the dogs halted obediently and sat where they were, tails wagging.
I squinted as the beam of Sulley’s flashlight washed over my face.
“Alex!” he shouted in relief and with a few tremendous crunching steps, I was in his arms. He hugged me tightly to him and petted my head.
“Oh thank God. I’ve been looking for you all night. I found your sweater and thought . . .” he said. “My God, you’re freezing.”
Sulley removed his jacket and draped it around my shoulders. I sunk into its warmth, its enormity engulfing me like a blanket. My mind fractured, broke into a million shards each rambling thought trying to escape at once.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “It’s all my fault . . . I’m so sorry . . .”
“Sshh.” Sulley kept an arm around me as we turned back towards the other flashlight.
I was lit with hope when the footsteps approached. Officer Jones caught up with us. He panted, trying to catch his breath and tucked his radio back into his belt.
“The others are headed back to the road to flag down the ambulance to have it ready,” he said.
My heart sank and I turned, panicked, to Sulley.
“Wait . . . ambulance? Where is W
ill? Is he hurt?”
Sulley hugged me close. “The ambulance is for you, so we can get you checked out. Will’s car is back up on the road, but we haven’t located him yet. When was the last time you saw him?”
My legs suddenly lost all their strength and I found myself leaning into Sulley for support.
“Hours ago. We were just going to take a look around the site . . . see if I could remember anything. Then he said that someone was coming. He told me to run. There were gunshots. He was there Uncle Sulley! It was the same man, the man with the knife. What if he hurt Will? What if Will’s out there somewhere . . . what if he’s dead?” I cried and my legs finally buckled from under me and I sank to the ground.
Sulley bent down and lifted me into his arms and handed the dog leashes to Jones who took them and lead Sulley back up the road.
“Don’t you worry about any of that right now. We found you, we’ll find him too. Let’s just get you checked out, get something in your stomach.”
“The dogs,” I breathed, my head fuzzy as my body bobbed with every heavy step that Sulley took, “can use them to find Will.”
“We must have swept a five mile radius between me and Mr. Henley who has the rest of the dogs. I was just about to call it in for the night when I found you. It’s black as pitch out here. He couldn’t have gone far. We’ll find him.”
“It’s Brightman . . . has to be.”
“If it is, it’s the last mistake he’s ever going to make,” Sulley said behind gritted teeth.
I closed my eyes, the swaying movement of Sulley’s arms as he carried me proved too much for my weary head. I searched with my ears for the strumming and found it faint and slow among the panting of the dogs and the loud footfalls over a multitude of branches and dead leaves.
When I opened my eyes again I was in the back of the ambulance on the side of the mountain road. A cluster of lights and movements surrounded me and it took me a minute to process all of them. A paramedic was hovering over me, dabbing my thigh with a wet cotton ball, which stung but I was too disoriented to complain. Beyond the opening of the ambulance I could see Sulley talking to Jones and another man, who I guessed was Mr. Henley because he was leaning up against a pickup full of wriggling Bloodhounds.
