The Baby Package

by Sarah J. Brooks

  I had to focus my mind on something else, or I would’ve kissed him. I decided to take a mental inventory of my injuries. My head and leg felt much better. There was only a dull ache at my temple and my leg was sore, but I could wiggle my toes; a good sign. My ankle was wrapped in a cold compress, and immobilized by something sturdy. Dash must have put a brace on it last night. All in all, I came out relatively unscathed from an accident that could have claimed my life… that was huge.

  I needed to use the bathroom but didn’t dare move away from my warm and cozy spot. I hadn’t been with a man for ages. My last boyfriend was so clever and interesting when I first met him, but we soon fizzled out. We didn’t have anything in common but for the fact that we lived in the same apartment building. Good for a fun fling, terrible for anything long lasting. I spent a year trying to avoid him in the halls until the glorious day I saw a moving van take his things and sweep him away. We gave each other a polite “See ya,” and that was the last man I ever dated. Sad, but true.

  And here I was with “Mystery Jesus” who may or may not be a serial killer and I was feeling too giddy and nervous to care. The butterflies in my stomach were performing a gastrointestinal Cirque Du Soleil and I could barely make a comprehensive thought. But, despite the unknowns, the man cradled by my side had saved my life. There had to be an incredible amount of good in there somewhere.

  I could’ve laid in his arms forever, but nature was pretty much kicking the door down at that point. So, I shifted ever so slightly and that’s when his incredible blue eyes popped open and stared at me. He seemed to be trying to focus, his mind probably scrambling as much as mine. This was highly awkward, waking up next to someone you didn’t know.

  I smiled and did my best to muster up my voice, which didn’t work at all yesterday, so I was hoping and praying it wasn’t out of commission today as well. I lightly cleared my throat to test it. “Thank you for saving me,” I said with a low and whispering rasp.

  Hellya my voice was sexy.

  “My pleasure,” was his simple return as he drew a deep breath and moved away from me.

  It was then I realized, I was still cuddled in his arms, oops, eek, and I was wearing HIS clothes. I looked down and saw I had on a baggy gray sweatshirt a hundred sizes too big and a pair of equally big navy colored sweatpants cinched so tightly at the waist I looked like a toddler with diaper butt.

  “Um, thanks for these,” I said glancing down at my clothes, “they’re quite fashionable.” I giggled, feeling like I was gushing in front of my teen crush.

  “I apologize for not having anything more suitable,” was his stark reply.

  “They’re fine, very cozy,” I scrunched my nose in a grotesquely goofy way. Nooooo! Who the hell was I? This was certainly not me, I handled men well, I was good at this. Ugggh.

  Since everything about the moment was uncomfortable, I shifted gears and made it all about business for fear of being considered needy or clingy; both things, despite the lack of physical love in my life, I absolutely was not.

  I made an attempt to get out of bed by myself, Ms. Independent. I could see the door to the bathroom ahead, so I made the door my goal. As soon as I set foot on the floor, Mountain Man Jesus freaked. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a surprisingly stern and surly tone of voice.

  “I… I… um, need to use the facilities,” I rasped, going for a sterile clinical approach to the situation.

  “Wait, I’ll need to help you get there,” he said, seeming bothered by the task.

  This made me feel like an idiot. Here I was cuddled in his arms, secretly planning our marriage and now he was grumbling at the thought of taking me to the toilet. Judgment off kilter much?

  “Sorry,” I said demurely, in case he was, in fact, a serial killer.

  Suddenly, I was feeling light-headed.

  He rounded the bed and approached me. That’s when I realized how tall he was, forget looking like a mountain man, he was a mountain of a man. He must’ve been at least six-foot-five and lean with muscles naturally bulging from his biceps. Damn, he was yummy. And while I was staring, probably drooling like a mastiff puppy, he swooped me up into his arms. I was so surprised by the gesture I yelped loudly.

  “I don’t want you walking on that foot,” he commanded in a deep tone that rattled his chest against my arm.

  “Um, okay,” was my meager reply.

  He walked me into the bathroom and set me down next to the toilet, however, there was no way I was going to let him go any farther with the King Kong antics, walking on my foot or not, I was gonna do this without his help.

  “I think I got it from here,” I said, surprised my voice was getting stronger. It was still deep and sexy, but the witchy sounding cackle was fading.

  “I’ll wait outside the door,” he offered as he turned away from me and walked out.

  Whew, a moment of privacy. I think I liked him better asleep than awake. Awake he was a very stern and intense man. But what was I expecting? Any man who loved throwing back a few beers with the boys and engaging in idle chatter wouldn’t be living alone hidden in the woods… yeah, only people who massacred with chainsaws did that. Shit.

  As I was doing my thing, I was strategizing my next move. I decided to be all bubbles and smiles, that way I would offset his grimness. Perhaps he just wasn’t a morning person. He’d introduced himself as Dash when he rescued me, but I didn’t recall telling him my name, so I’d start with that.

  He was waiting outside of the door as he said he would be. I did my business and then got out and smiled feeling just a bit uncomfortable and opened the door.

  “Hi,” was my awkward start. “I’m Jeni, I don’t think I mentioned that.” Ugh, was I painfully uncool.

  “And Imogen?” his expression seemed angrily confused.

  “Is also me.” I bowed my head, I hated the sound of my full name, it was so old-fashioned.

  “Sorry, I looked at your driver’s license without your approval, I needed know who you were, in case… well in case something happened to you,” he managed to say with a short and gruff tone.

  “No worries. Imogen is my real name, but I never use it, it’s so dorky and old ladyish.” I had to shut up, I was just burying myself six feet under.

  “I understand. My given name is Dashell, also of an older generation. I prefer Dash.” And with that, he lifted me into his arms.

  “We’re like characters in a romance novel, Dashell and Imogen were destined to be lovers from the moment their eyes met on the sweeping grounds of the stately mansion…” shut up Imogen, shut up now. “Or something silly like that, don’t mind me, I have a very active imagination.” And now you’re dead… romance novel? Seriously? You sound SO desperate.

  Oh God, why couldn’t someone just shoot me, I was so embarrassed.

  “Would you like me to put you back on the bed?” he said, completely ignoring my stupid romance novel comment. He asked in such a cold and matter-of-fact manner it was hardly worth considering, but yes, of course, I wanted to be put back in bed as long as he promised to come with me. We could get our groove on and I’d warm up that icy temperament of his, but alas, I wasn’t that spicy in the sex department and it was a fantasy I didn’t see ever being played out, so I opted for sitting upright instead.

  “Do you mind taking me into the living room or somewhere, I’ve slept a lot already.”

  “Sure, I’ll make us some breakfast,” he said as he moved me from the bedroom into the living room.

  The living room was as dark as the bedroom. I thought maybe he was a light sleeper so had some killer blackout shades, but as he set me on the couch, I realized he was definitely hiding from the world. I secretly hoped he wouldn’t keep the shades down, the pitch blackness gave everything a very creepy and unsettling quality.

  “I’ll be just a moment, please stay there,” his icy voice commanded as he stepped into a small room just off the kitchen.

  I heard a series of beeps and rustling, then a grinding
sound and a few moments later the metal shutters were slowly lifting. I felt the heaviness of the room lighten as daylight flooded in. Oh, thank God.

  The storm was still raging outside, but even a foggy gray light was better than no light at all. There was no way I was leaving today; the wind was blowing the trees and a thick blanket of snow was falling at a fast pace. Already it had piled up about three feet, blocking half of the window from view. Another day of snowfall that heavy and we’d be trapped in the cabin.

  “It’s coming down really fast,” I mentioned as he walked out of the room and back into the kitchen.

  The galley kitchen was separated from the living room by a long, tiled bar with brushed metal bar stools. Since I’d been visiting the mountain most of my life, I noted his decor was vastly different from most of the dwellings I’d seen on the hill.

  Eagle mountain cabins were usually decorated in a country style with floral prints, a mounted hunter’s trophy like a buck or a bear, and heavy wooden furniture with high glossy surfaces. Dash’s place, while modest on the outside, was modern, minimalistic, and rigged with incredible technology. His sparse surroundings did spark a bit of worry in me, everything seemed so cold and emotionless. I tried to engage him in conversation to pacify my fears.

  “It’s coming down pretty fast,” I said again, thinking he hadn’t heard me the first time as I motioned with my head to the heavy snowfall.

  He let out heaving sigh. I guess the storm did concern him.

  “It’s not going to let up until Monday at the earliest,” he grumbled as he ambled around his kitchen pulling out a heavy iron pan and a box of mix. “I’m not much of a cook,” he added as he opened the box and pulled a bowl down from a shelf behind him.

  “That’s okay, neither am I. Anything you cook will be fine,” I said with a broad goofy smile.

  Why did people like him make me so nervous?

  “You should try reaching your people again, reception is usually better during the day,” he said, not even looking up from his cooking.

  Right, my people. I did need to reach out to Lydia and Gramps, Lydia seemed beside herself with worry yesterday.

  “Yeah, I hope they’re okay. Do you know what happened to my phone?” I was so foggy from the ordeal yesterday, I forgot where I’d put it.

  “I retrieved it from the nightstand and put it on the table next to you.”

  And now I felt like an idiot for not noticing it. “Right, here it is,” I said waving the phone in the air after picking it up from practically in front of my face.

  I decided talking was dangerous until I could get my groove back if I ever even had a groove. I would have to stop talking until I could think of something that wasn’t ridiculous to say.

  My phone was able to grab a little reception if I angled it the right way. At least I had enough to call Lydia and Gramps again.

  Lydia picked up the phone in one ring. “Hello?’ her voice was soft yet urgent.

  “Hey Lydia, it’s me.” I tried to sound casual and nonchalant. “I was just checking on how you and Gramps are holding up in the storm.”

  I heard a sigh of relief exhale into the phone. “Fine, we’re fine. We’re worried about you though; the storm isn’t going to let up soon. Are you sure you’re safe?” She tried to cover up the worry in her voice, but I knew she was terribly anxious. She had every right to be, I wasn’t so sure I was safe, but I’d never let she and Gramps know that.

  “I am completely fine. I’m just glad I brought my iPad along at least I could get some long overdue reading in. Are you guys okay? Is someone checking in on you both?” I was most concerned about them, I hated to think of them being isolated. They did have neighbors on either side of them and there was a tiny village just a mile down the road, so they weren’t as off the grid as Mountain Man Serial Killer Jesus was, but I wanted to make sure someone was looking out for them.

  “Yes, yes, dear. The neighbor’s boy Dylan is checking in on us every day. They are keeping the roads pretty clear so if we needed something, he could get his truck into town. I’m just glad to hear that you’re safe, you sounded terrible last night. What happened to your voice?”

  “Don’t worry about me Lydia, I’m just fine. I just had a little frog my throat after the hike. I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you though. I should never have gone for a climb.” I felt horrible, I’d been so bullheaded.

  “It’s okay, dear, we understand. You needed fresh air. You’ve always loved your climb up that mountain,” she commented offering her counsel.

  “She’s a blockhead for going out in this weather,” Gramps shouted in the background.

  “Your Grandpa sends his love,” she interpreted.

  “I love you both, Lydia, I have to go now, my reception is spotty,” I’d glanced down at the phone and saw I was down to only one bar. I didn’t want us being cut off or she’d worry again.

  “Okay, dear. You take care of yourself and we’ll see you soon,” Lydia offered her goodbyes while Gramps yelled out.

  “Hope she doesn’t die…” and with that, the phone cut out.

  Well, Gramps, for the first time I could remember offered me a useful sentiment. I hope I didn’t die too. I looked over to Dash and he had two plates of pancakes in his hand.

  “Breakfast is ready”, he said in a dark monotone.

  Chapter 11

  Dash

  When I checked the surveillance cameras and the peripheral security systems as I did every morning, it hit me I had another human in the cabin. I panicked and decided the best way to avoid questions or interest in my need for seclusion would be to be as unpleasant as possible so as not to rile her curiosity any further.

  I was going to be trapped with this beautiful, incredible woman who I wanted to bed, for a while. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep myself from her, but hiding out in the surveillance room, while tempting, wasn’t going to solve my problem in the long term. I had to face her.

  Since I was starving, I assumed she would be as well. A hearty breakfast was in order, and then I had to prepare the cabin for a few days of bad weather and possible, low energy resources. The solar panels were my biggest worry; in low sunlight, their efficiency dropped considerably. I had a few gallons of gas to run a generator, a few candles, and propane. All I needed was firewood. These things would most likely last through the storm if we were conservative.

  I felt a thick tension in the room as I made breakfast. The reality of our situation was settling in both of our minds. I was relieved she’d been able to get hold of her family and assure them of her safety. The last thing I needed was a search party unearthing me. I made pancakes, sausage, and opened a can of mandarin oranges. It was a basic meal, but hearty.

  She looked delighted when I brought out two plates of food. My small dining table was covered with a few laptops and a large monitor. Since it was situated near a large picture window, it had served as my workspace in the days leading up to the storm. I noted to myself to clear it, so we had a proper place to eat. However, with her injury, it was best we ate on the couch.

  I had few other furnishings, a long sleek couch in brushed suede, a steel coffee table, and a black suede chair. The dining table was in the same metal as the coffee table and I had an 82” flat screen television, my only indulgence. It made me feel as if something was happening around me, thus mitigating the ever-present loneliness.

  “As I said, I’m not much of a cook,” I warned, placing the meal before her.

  “This looks wonderful.” Her eyes brightened as she reached for the plate.

  I sat in the chair and set my own meal to the side for a moment. I wasn’t going to be able to eat until I’d addressed the elephant in the room.

  “I’m sure you’re curious about why I live out here all alone,” I had to remain calm, she couldn’t ever know my past.

  “Yes, very curious,” she smiled a large and awkward grin, which did little to hide her concern.

  There was more behind the expression, it was so
mething resembling worry. What a strange situation, here I was hiding out from the most dangerous criminals in our country and the woman I rescued seemed leery of me, that was quite ironic. I almost laughed.

  She paused while she finished chewing a bite of food she’d placed in her mouth to look more natural, but I could see she was shaking. She regarded her plate before she spoke. “I am curious, yes.” She took a deep breath, “I’ve been wondering why you’ve locked yourself away in this high tech, post-apocalyptic zombie shelter?

  She had a fun sense of humor, it was refreshing. She used humor, it seemed, to alleviate her fears.

  “I’m not here because I’m running from the law, or lying in wait for a victim if that is your worry. I’m a scientist,” I started, it wasn’t entirely a lie. “I am experimenting with a range of off-grid technologies that might be used in places with little traditional electricity. My company is working on a project which tests the bounds of unconventional energy sources.” I sounded so convincing, I actually considered adding this specialization to my workload.

  Imagine outfitting rural hospitals and villages in underserved areas with off-grid power sources; it was an exciting prospect. I was living very successfully off-grid in a nearly hostile environment. The trees made solar energy difficult; there was a wind turbine which collected energy at the top of the mountain when there was wind. Water catchment and well-water were more difficult and yet, I’d managed to live here for a year using all of these methods rather successfully. I made do because I was able to use multiple power and water resources.

  I made a mental note to explore my time here in a more scientific sense if I ever left this cabin. The thought filled me with anxiety and dread. What was I going to do? I most likely was never going to leave my solitude and this cabin, but unbeknownst to Imogen, she’d just made both intolerable. Having had interaction with another person, especially one I was so attracted to, made living alone again a hard thought to consider.