Credence

by Penelope Douglas

  I look up at the clouds again, unable to even locate the sun. It must be around two in the afternoon, though.

  “Kaleb said it was ‘in the valley’,” I tell Noah. “‘Where the river creeps and the wind rushes.’”

  “Kaleb said?”

  I glance at him, mumbling, “I found a journal. Of sorts.”

  He stares at me for a moment, but then fixes his gaze out on the horizon of the lonely white forest.

  “Valley with a river...” he murmurs to himself.

  Studying the map again, he chews his chapped lip, looking confused. “I have no idea,” he blurts out. “I don’t see that here. Did he say anything else?”

  “Surrounded by the creaks?” I tell him, unsure if I read that correctly in the book. “Not a creek. Creaks. Like the sound.”

  Noah straightens, staring off as the wheels turn in his head. I move in front of him, giving my back to the wind.

  Fuck, it’s cold.

  “What?” I ask him.

  He blinks. “It was like a flue,” he says. “Like a chimney flue. The glen was small, enclosed by rock walls and trees. When the wind would blow in, it would rush through and out, sounding like a chimney flue.”

  He lifts his chin, his shoulders relaxing as he exhales. Thunder cracks overhead, and I glance to the sky, hugging myself.

  “And the snow from the peak would melt and come down in a waterfall that we couldn’t see beyond the walls of the glen, but the flow forked into two streams,” he finally remembers. “One feeds where we fish. The other…” He meets my eyes. “I know where he is.”

  I close my eyes. Thank God.

  Without another word, he darts to the left, near the ravine, and pulls off his hood, leaving him in his black ski cap to see better. He takes my hand as we stumble and slide down the hill.

  The sky bellows again, and wind sweeps through the narrow valley, flakes stinging my face as they hit. I pull my warmer up over my mouth and nose, seeing lightning strike across the sky.

  I whip around, worried.

  “Shit,” Noah exclaims, pulling me faster. “Come on.”

  We trail as fast as we can through the deep snow, but my muscles are burning, and my fingers are frozen through my gloves. I fist my hands.

  The wind rushes, trapped between two mountains, and all I can hear is my pulse in my ears.

  “How much farther?” I shout.

  “I have no idea!” Noah tells me, pointing to the line of snow between the trees. “We just follow this!”

  A shot of lightning strikes suddenly, hitting a spruce on the incline above us, and I scream.

  Noah falls, startled, and I lean over to grab him. “Noah!”

  I grit my teeth, using every muscle I have to lift him out of the snow.

  He pulls his hood back up and grabs hold of me, hugging me to keep me warm.

  “It’s only going to get worse,” he says. “We need to pitch a tent and wait this out!”

  “We’re not pitching a tent with metal rods on a mountain in a lightning storm!” I tell him, backing away. “Let’s go!”

  I lead the way, taking us through the valley and climbing over snow-covered boulders toward Kaleb. I hum to myself, squeezing my fists to keep the blood flowing, knowing each step brings us closer to the cabin.

  I’m worried he’s not okay. It’s been so long.

  I’m also worried I’ll want to kill him for disappearing like this. How dare he just live up here like nothing matters. I don’t care if we fight. I’m actually looking forward to it. Just as long as he’s there and just as long as he’s breathing.

  Pebbles hit my hood, the tap against the fabric sporadic but hard. I tip my face up, bullets of ice belting my cheeks.

  I dip my head back down, crouching under the onslaught. “Sleet!”

  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Noah growls.

  He takes my hand, and we run, seeing a cave ahead. Racing toward the entrance, we dive inside, out of the wind, snow, and ice, and I pull my hood off and my warmer down, wiping off my face with my gloved hand.

  “You okay?” Noah asks.

  “Yeah.”

  My face burns, and I’m afraid to look at it. I can just hear Jake now. Why would you do something so stupid?

  And he’d be right. This was dumb.

  I’d probably still do it again, though.

  Noah shivers, shaking out his coat and blowing into his hands.

  “I thought you grew up here?” I tease.

  “Shut up.”

  I smile. Tenderfoot.

  I go to take off my pack, but then I look up, feeling snow still falling on my face. Light enters above us, and I look to my right, seeing more light ahead.

  This isn’t a cave.

  It’s a tunnel.

  Walking toward the exit, I clutch the straps of my pack and step into the open, pulling my hood up again. Snow falls, the wind sweeps through, and I feel the tiny taps of sleet hitting my jacket, but it’s calmer than on the other side of the wall.

  Much calmer.

  Trees loom over us, clusters of firs and spruces dressed with snow, and I hear the water. Rock walls surround the glen, which is about half the size of a football field, the only entrance I see is the one we just came through. The area is shielded by rocks and trees, but the weather still swoops in from above, open to the sky and bringing in the cold, snow, and wind, albeit not as fierce.

  Looking up, I see the cabin on the hill.

  “Oh, thank you, God!” Noah cries out behind me.

  My heart leaps, and I close my eyes, smiling.

  “Kaleb!” Noah shouts.

  He runs, and I race after him, up the small hill and toward the cabin. I let my pack fall off me, and I drag it up onto the small porch.

  Noah drops his, too, our rifles strapped to the packs and both of us kicking our snow-caked boots against the little house. “At least, I’m not going to die now,” he grumbles, “because if I’d gotten you killed, they would’ve killed me.”

  I laugh, leaving my pack and throwing open the door.

  “Kaleb!” I call, entering the house.

  But even before I can get my bearings, my smile falls.

  He’s not here.

  Liquid heat pumps through my body, and I don’t think I breathe. Jake was right when he said this place wasn’t for me. It’s one room with a stove, a fireplace, and two beds. There are three windows, no other doors, and no bathroom. It’s a place to cook and sleep when they fish, nothing more.

  The wet air permeates, and I look around, grasping onto anything to give me hope this wasn’t all for nothing.

  “He’s not here,” Noah says, squeezing past me.

  “Has he been, though?” I ask. “He could be out hunting.”

  He walks to the stove, picking up a pot. From here, I can see the remnants of something inside it.

  “It’s frozen.” He shakes his head. “He was here, I think. The dishes aren’t dusty, so they’ve been washed recently, but it’s been a couple days, at least.”

  Walking over to the rumpled bed, I lift the sheet to my nose. The cold and the cabin are the only scents I find, though.

  “Where else would he go?” I drop the sheet. “Could he be heading back to the house and we missed him?”

  “He wouldn’t have left these guns.” Noah pulls out a rifle, and I see others tucked in the corner.

  The guns.

  You left yourself unprotected.

  Noah’s words come back to me, and I walk over, seeing three rifles standing in the corner, one I know Kaleb uses a lot. If he’s out, he would have it. Why doesn’t he have it?

  I back away, a sob lodged in my throat. Where the fuck is he?

  The dishes, the dirty pot, the guns…he was here. Where did he go and when?

  I breathe hard, unable to control where my fears are going as tears fill my eyes.

  Noah approaches, taking my shoulders. “Let’s take it slow. We don’t know anything.”

  I twist away fr
om him, though, pulling one of the rifles out of the corner and checking to make sure it’s loaded. Thunder cracks outside again, and snow pummels the windows.

  “Let’s go,” I tell him.

  “We’re not going out in this again.”

  “Noah!” I whip around to face him. “He wouldn’t be out there willingly in this. He could be injured or—”

  “If you go out there, you’re dead!” he growls. “And then I’m dead, because I’ll have to follow you, and I know almost less than you do about surviving up here! I’m putting my foot down. We wait out the storm.”

  He’s right. I know he’s right, but is he serious? I can’t sit here all night. How can he?

  I look at the door.

  What if a wolf or a bear got to him? What if he’s cold and dying?

  A tear spills over as my feet itch to run. What if he died out there months ago, his bones rotting in the snow?

  I debate making a run for it.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Noah bites out as he takes off his coat and starts the fire in the stove. “I will tie you up, Tiernan. I swear to God.”

  And I close my eyes before planting myself at the window for the rest of the night, watching for Kaleb.

  I yawn, my eyelids heavy and my arms like ten-ton weights. I put my hand on the anchor over my waist and realize it’s Noah’s arm as he spoons me in one of the beds. I blink the sleep away, nestled into his body and still dressed in my jeans, sweater, and wool socks.

  “Hey,” he says in a sleepy voice.

  I turn my head. “Is it over? The storm?”

  “Yeah.” He tightens his hold on me. “Listen.”

  I train my ears, hearing the steady drops hit the windows and tin roof, clanking against the windchime dangling off the front porch. It’s a different sound than snow.

  Oh, my God. “It’s raining?”

  “Right?” he jokes.

  But the wind is gone, as well as the rocks of sleet that hit the small house last night.

  Rain. Not snow, which means it’s not as cold.

  “Will rain make the snow slippery, though?” I ask.

  Noah rises and lets out a loud yawn. “It probably means we didn’t get much snow, actually.”

  He leaves the bed and pulls on his shirt, and I sit up, tucking my hair behind my ears. How can he only be in his jeans? The fire helped, but it was still cold in here last night.

  He slips on his jacket and tosses me some granola we packed before grabbing a rod. “Stay in bed, eat, and hydrate,” he says. “I’ll go catch some breakfast, and then we’ll head out.”

  I stiffen. “We’re not going home.”

  He opens the door, looking so tired. “I mean, head out to find him, babe.”

  I relax, relieved. “Hey,” I call.

  He turns and looks at me.

  “Be careful.”

  His eyes soften, and he gives me that smile.

  Then he closes the door and leaves. The river runs behind the house, so he probably won’t go far, and I take the opportunity while he’s gone to go outside and relieve myself, melt some snow to wash up, and eat and hydrate like I’m told.

  Putting on an extra pair of socks, I change my sweater and tie my hair up into a ponytail. I actually slept well because Noah kept me warm, but I think he insisted we share a bed because he was afraid I’d bolt in the middle of the night to find Kaleb.

  I’m glad I didn’t try. Coming up here with just Noah was stupid enough. Going out alone would be suicide.

  After washing the dishes we used and checking my boots by the fire to make sure they’re dry, I grab my pack to do a supply check.

  But I see something move outside the window and stop.

  I look up, squinting.

  Dropping the pack, I walk over to the door and carefully twist the handle, opening it gently.

  Calming my breathing, I peer out into the rain, opening the door wider and wider, cringing when the hinges creak, but I don’t want to scare it off.

  I step out onto the porch, water spilling over the roof to the ground as the buck stands like a statue in front of me.

  My chest swells. Wow.

  His antlers stretch like a giant U over his head, splintering off into smaller branches as his large, brown eyes stare at me like he’s waiting for something.

  The rain falls around us, his hooves buried in the snow, and I falter, feeling my gun behind me in the house. Jake would tell me to shoot him. We’re here without much food, and who knows if we’ll get snowed in tonight or tomorrow. I shouldn’t balk at meat where I can get it.

  He’d be right.

  I throw my arms out, though, and whisper-yell. “Go!”

  He darts off, past me, and I follow him with my eyes to make sure he gets away before Noah can see him.

  And then I spot something and freeze, locking eyes on Kaleb in the brush as he points his rifle at the white-tail.

  My mouth falls open. Kaleb.

  I faintly hear the deer’s trot disappear as Kaleb’s rifle stops at me, no longer following the animal as he peers through the scope. His lifts his head, steam billowing into the air from his mouth.

  I blink to make sure I’m actually seeing him and not some hallucination. He wears a dark gray hoodie, black ski cap, and his jaw is covered with scruff. He stares at me, his arms falling to his sides, and his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

  Absently, I step down the wet steps in my socks as he walks slowly toward me.

  “Hi,” I say.

  He stands there, and I’m not sure what to do. We found him. He’s fine.

  I think.

  I scan his body, making sure he hasn’t lost weight or isn’t injured.

  Where the hell was he all night?

  I don’t even care, though. His beautiful eyes. His cheekbones. His mouth and tanned neck that I know will be warm. Of course, he would have a tan in the winter.

  I swallow. “Noah’s downstream, looking for breakfast,” I say in a low voice. “We were worried about you.”

  He inches forward, and I drop my eyes to his ankles, seeing his jeans are soaked from the knees down.

  “You missed Christmas,” I say.

  Tears lodge in my throat. I’m desperate for him to talk. To want me like he did that night of the fire with Noah and that afternoon in the barn.

  Most of all, I just want to see him.

  I chew my lip. “Can you come home?” I whisper.

  Just come home.

  Let’s start over and be friends. I’ll be nice, you’ll be nice, and you don’t have to talk. We’ll laugh and work and go for walks and you can show me how to use the bow and arrow, and…

  He rushes me, wrapping his arms around me, and only a whimper escapes before his mouth is on mine.

  The world spins, and euphoria washes over me. He kisses me deep, his tongue dipping in and making my body scream from my head down to my toes. I circle his neck and kiss him back, too fucking high to go slow, because I’m starving.

  “I love you, Kaleb,” I cry quietly. “I love you.”

  He drops his rifle and carries me into the house, kicking the door closed behind us. We bite and kiss, coming back for more and more, and I pull off his sweatshirt and he kicks off his boots. I throw off my sweater and peel off my socks as he unfastens my jeans, our lips never leaving each other.

  Let’s not be friends. Let’s fight and laugh and make babies someday and go insane, because I’m fucking in love with you.

  He pulls away and lifts up my arm, inspecting the small piece of raised skin barely noticeable. “It’s okay,” I assure him. “You stitched me up well.”

  I was injured the last time he saw me. Just a faint scar remains now.

  He breathes hard, but his shoulders relax in relief. Taking my head in his hands, he kisses me hard, no tongue, just fierce and strong and possessive. He missed me.

  We fall on the bed, his hair longer and hanging in his eyes as we get rid of our clothes and he settles between my thighs,
already hot and hard. I hold his head in the crook of my neck, running my hands all over his body.

  He slips inside me, and I wrap my arms tightly around him, afraid to let him go too far from me again. Forehead to forehead, he looks down into my eyes.

  “There’s been no one since you,” I whisper.

  Maybe he doesn’t need to hear it, but I want him to know.

  He kisses my mouth, my nose, and my cheeks, thrusting his hips between my legs, and I can’t let him go.

  I don’t want to ever let him go. Not in April when the snow stops. Not in August when school starts. Not ever.

  He gazes down at me, and I look up into his eyes, smiling and vaguely hearing raps on the door.

  “Hey!” Noah hollers. “Open up!”

  I hug Kaleb as he keeps going, my eyes closing as he fills me and hits deep. The bed rocks against the wall, and I moan as Kaleb fists my hair.

  “So you found Kaleb, I guess?” Noah barks. “Come on, it’s cold out here!”

  But I’m coming, and I can’t stop. I grab Kaleb and kiss him hard, barely registering the sound of whatever Noah throws against the door.

  Tiernan

  I touch his face, tracing the ridge of his nose, down to the dip above his lip, and then over his mouth. His eyes are closed, but I know he’s not sleeping as he holds me to him in the bed.

  Noah sleeps across the room, and I’m not sure what time it is, but I know it’s early morning. Rain still taps the roof and windows.

  I love you.

  He didn’t say it back, though.

  He may never say it back.

  Oh, the irony. Six months ago, I ran from a life of people who wouldn’t talk to me and ended up falling for a guy who may never say a word to me. I stare up at him, threading my fingers through his black hair and picturing the little boy who lost all hope that day in that car when he was four.

  I drop my eyes to the thin tattoo down the back of his neck, between his ear and his spine.

  Credence. I’m close enough to read it now. It means ‘belief as to the truth of something’.

  I’m not sure I understand.

  And then, maybe I do.

  If he doesn’t tell me he loves me, then how do I know he does? What if I’m what he wants until the snow melts and he can have Cici or any one of the girls in town?