by Mia Sheridan
She was still blinking at me, her head tilted slightly. “I . . . see.”
“I swear we talked about all the B names in my family when we were picking out Theo’s name. My dad decided to continue the tradition with my brother and sister and me, just using a different letter.”
She glanced behind me for a moment, a look of pain skating over her expression. I knew why. We’d picked Theo’s name after we’d found out we were having a boy, and after we’d found out he wouldn’t survive much past birth, if he survived at all. We’d chosen his name together, and only months later, we’d had it etched on his headstone. With the memory, grief punched at my insides. “Maybe,” Audra murmured. “I don’t really remember.” I squeezed her hand and she smiled sadly at me, understanding flowing between us without either of us having to say a word.
After a moment, she looked down as if in thought and murmured, “Bea . . .” She shook her head slightly as if rejecting an idea. I started to ask her what she was thinking about, but she adjusted herself on my knee, and even though she was on my non-injured leg, she bumped my other knee and it caused a spear of pain to stab into my thigh. I let out a small grunt of pain, pulling my knee away.
Audra’s gaze shot to mine. “You okay?”
“Yeah. The skin around my stitches just pulled a little. I’m fine.”
She nodded, but I could see the worry in her eyes. She put her forehead back on mine, and then stroked my hair and kissed my cheekbones. For several minutes we sat that way, foreheads pressed together, hands intertwined between our bodies as the dying sun illuminated the sky, reflecting off the ice in a dazzling show of sparkling color.
“What can I do right now to make you feel better?” Audra asked, placing her palm on my grizzled jaw.
I nuzzled her nose. My head was aching, my muscles were tight, and I felt so weak I feared I’d topple right over, but I forced a smile. “Show me how you used to dance with the butterflies.”
She laughed, a surprised sound. “What?”
I nodded behind her to the snow where prisms of light moved in the air, a gift from the heavens. “Can’t you see the butterflies?”
She laughed again, but then her face sobered. “Are you having delusions?”
I laughed. “No, just imagining. But it’s easy to do. Can’t you see them?” Again, I gestured my head behind her.
She glanced back, pausing, and then turning back to me, a smile, filled with wonder adorning her pretty face.
“You’re right. I do see them.”
“So dance, Audra.”
She gave me a shy glance, but smiled, standing and offering a curtsy. She put her arms in the air like a ballerina and twirled gracefully in the snow, spinning again and laughing as she raised her face to the sky. I laughed too, the joy of the moment feeling suddenly more powerful than the fever, the hopelessness of our situation, the uncertainty of tomorrow. For a brief blink of time, it was just Audra, the woman I loved with every piece of my heart, dancing in front of me with a kaleidoscope of translucent butterflies glinting in the air around her.
She turned, grinning as she held her hand out to me and I stood, answering her call, walking to her and taking her in my arms. We danced slowly together as the sun lowered behind the mountains, taking the butterflies with it. But we still remained, holding each other, heartbeat to heartbeat, as the sky grew dim.
**********
That night I dreamed. Misty visions of Audra reaching for me as I tried desperately to grasp her arm, the distance between us expanding no matter how fast I ran. I woke up gasping, my throat burning, my head cradled in Audra’s lap. She was dribbling water into my mouth and I swallowed greedily, reaching for the bottle of water so I could drink it in large gulps. I was so thirsty, so hot, it felt like my head was on fire and every muscle in my body ached.
But Audra pulled the water back, hushing me. Her words drifted to me—muted and strange—as if I were underwater and she was above. “Don’t leave me, Dane,” I thought she said. I won’t, I wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t form. Sleep pulled me back under.
I woke drenched in sweat, grimacing at the dim shafts of light through the sides of our woven door. I cried out as I sat up, pulling myself out through the door and into the light of day. What time was it? How long had I slept?
I squinted up at the light-dappled ceiling of pine branches, not able to see enough of the sun from here to guess at the time of day. God, I felt like fucking hell.
Audra was probably using the bathroom. At that thought, I wove my way over to the nearest tree, holding on to it for support as I pissed. Not much, though, and I hadn’t gone since yesterday, early evening. That couldn’t be a good sign, could it? What was happening with my body?
I zipped my pants, spotting the bottles of water sitting next to a rock and making my way toward them. As I drank, I glanced at the fire, still burning. Shame filled me when I realized Audra had to have gotten up all night to feed it. Goddamn it! It filled me with impotent fury to know that I hadn’t been able to perform that small task for her the night before. I set the water back down and then picked up a pinecone, hurling it toward the trees, the movement causing me so much agonizing muscle pain that I sat on the rock on an exhale of curses, breathing heavily. My head throbbed as the forest radiated around me and I clenched my eyes closed, holding my scalp in my hands.
That’s when I heard her scream. It rang through the forest, through the canyons, echoing off the rock. I jolted, jumping to my feet and staggering as I took three steps forward, looking around wildly. “Audra!” I called, racing in the direction her scream had come from, not out into the wide-open space, but back, through the trees, into the forest.
As I passed the back of our shelter, the silver glint of metal caught my eye and I grabbed the piece of edging I’d used as a walking stick what seemed like so long ago.
I wove through the forest, dodging trees, moving faster than my body wanted to manage, single-mindedly trying to get to Audra. I gripped the piece of metal in my hand, a weapon, though I had no idea what had caused that terrifying, blood-curdling scream. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, in my head, a raucous percussion of pain and dread. Where is she? Where is she?
“Audra!” I called again. No answer. I heard them before I saw them, a low growl of animal aggression. Breathing harshly, my muscles screaming and my head throbbing, I stepped through a gap in the trees, my stomach lurching in horror to see Audra standing near the edge of a cliff as two wolves stalked toward her, their heads low, their teeth bared as low, twin growls shattered the quiet of the forest.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. This could not be happening. Adrenalin spiked through my body and I gripped the weapon tightly in one hand, swiping my arm over my eyes when I felt the cold sting of sweat obscure my vision. Come on, Townsend. Get it together. Now.
Audra caught sight of me, her eyes wide with horror as her gaze beseeched desperately: Help me.
My eyes moved back to the wolves. “Hey!” I yelled and the creatures turned, snarling viciously, their jaws snapping. Oh God, fuck, they’re big. I took several steps toward them, and one lowered his head as if ready to rush me. Audra let out a tiny sob, but it echoed in the stillness of the winter morning, and the second wolf turned back to her, slinking along the ground for one step, two before it leapt into the air, hitting Audra square in the chest.
I heard a deep inhuman yell mixed with Audra’s scream and somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I realized that it was me. I threw myself toward Audra who was now screaming on the ground, the wolf on top of her, yanking his head back and forth as if tearing at her flesh. I released another battle cry as the second wolf attacked me, his jaw snapping just under my chin, a hairsbreadth away from my jugular. With every ounce of strength I had, I brought the piece of metal back and then thrust it forward. The wolf released a piercing yelp, his body jerking as we both went down, me on my back and him sprawled on top of me.
I shouldn’t be able to, but I pushed him off, pulling the weap
on from his body on a wet sucking sound. The whole thing was surreal, a horrible fever dream. I rushed to Audra, who was still screaming as she grappled with the wolf. With a yell, I thrust the bloodied metal into the wolf’s flank and it immediately jumped off Audra and came at me, stopping inches from where I stood. I swiped the metal back and forth as it made a whistling sound in the air in front of the wolf, who then backed slowly away.
For a second, I thought it was going to turn and run, but it suddenly turned back toward Audra who, bloody and crying, scrabbled backward at his approach. The growl was something I’d never heard before, and I hoped to God I never heard it again.
And then . . .
It seemed to happen in slow motion. The snow under Audra dropped out from under her and she flailed her bloodied arms as I dove toward her, our fingers brushing as she let out another blood-curdling scream, plunging backward and out of sight.
With a deep, guttural yell, I landed on my stomach, reaching for Audra who was no longer there. Below I heard the sickening oof sound as she hit the ground. I screamed her name, the wolf next to me letting out another low growl. I stood, swinging the metal crazily, connecting with his flank again as he yelped. “You bastard! You fucking bastard!” The wolf backed up, turning and limping away with a horrible, broken gait, glancing back only once before he disappeared into the forest.
I dropped back to my stomach, breathing harshly, filled with blinding terror. On the ground below, Audra lay, one leg bent up unnaturally, her eyes closed as blood darkened the snow around her. “Audra!” I screamed, my voice cracking.
For a horrifying moment, she was completely still, silent, but then a soft moan drifted up to me and I sobbed out an incoherent sound of relief. She isn’t dead. She isn’t dead. Thank God, thank God.
“Audra, honey.” I tried my best to sound steady, calm, but my voice broke as I sucked in a shuddery moan.
Her eyes blinked open and she stared at me as if she couldn’t comprehend the situation. Finally, “Dane?” Her voice was so soft it barely made its way to me where I lay looking at her from a hundred feet above.
I attempted a smile but it felt like my lips stuck to my teeth in what must be a grotesque grimace. “You’re going to be okay, Audra.”
“Dane,” she sobbed, “Dane, I can’t feel my legs.”
Oh God, no. No! This cannot be happening. God, this cannot be happening.
“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” I pulled myself to my knees, the world tilting on its axis for a moment as the adrenalin surge wore off and my body protested any movement violently. I choked back the vomit in my throat. She was down there, paralyzed, with no way to defend herself. “Audra, honey, I’m going to throw this spear down to you. I’m going to try to get it to land so you can reach for it, all right? Put your arms over your head in case my aim is off.”
I saw her head move in acknowledgment and then I aimed as best as I could, tossing the metal down to where Audra lay, and slightly to the right. It landed in the snow above her head and I let out a breath of relief as she reached for it, her arm leaving a smear of red in the snow.
“How bad is your arm?”
“I don’t know.” She started crying, her sobs pinching my heart, as dread and panic warred in my chest, along with the terrible, feverish sickness.
“Apply as much pressure as you can to the places where you’re bleeding. I’m coming down to you. I’ll be there in a minute. Just hold on. Hold on, honey. Hold on.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Audra
Another sob escaped my lips and I tried my best to suck back the scream working its way up my chest to lodge in my throat. This couldn’t be happening.
No, oh God, no.
I’d just wanted to find some rosehips for Dane. He’d been burning up, tossing and turning, muttering in his sleep, his glazed-over eyes unfocused when he’d woken to drink the water I was dripping into his mouth. I’d been so scared when I’d woken in the morning. If I found some rosehips, I could heat water and make him tea, maybe bring relief from the ravages of the fever. Doing nothing was slowly driving me insane. The helplessness was like a knife carving into my heart as I watched him suffer and slip away from me bit by bit. I’m going to lose him. I’m going to lose him.
I’d gone all the way to the edge of the forest when I’d decided to give up. And that’s when I heard the growls behind me, the soft crunch of snow as they stalked closer and closer, backing me toward the cliff.
And then Dane. Dane had come up behind them like a warrior charging into battle. For me. Hot tears leaked from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks to collect in my ears.
I heard a small sound to my left and let out a small, fearful gasp, clutching the metal in my sock-covered hands and whipping my head toward the noise. A cardinal. We made eye contact and he lifted from the ground, soaring up and away into the safety of the trees. I let out a gasping breath, the white vapor rising and dissipating in the cold air as I released my grip on the weapon Dane had thrown me. I hardly had the strength to hold it. How would I use it against something that meant me harm if I needed to?
“Audra?” I heard Dane call and a gasping moan of intense relief burst from my lips at the sound of his voice. He was back. I was hurting so badly, but I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t alone. “I’m tying the leather strips together. I have them all here. This isn’t the ideal spot to climb from”—his voice faded away for a second as if he needed time to collect his breath—“but we work with what we have, don’t we, honey?”
I nodded my head, my teeth chattering as the wet snow beneath me soaked through my jeans, into my very bones. My jacket was ripped where the wolf had torn at my arm and I could feel the blood freezing on my skin. “Y-yes,” I agreed. We did. We worked with what we had.
“Okay, but first, I have my duffel bag here,” he said, his voice slurring just slightly, “and I’m going to throw it down to you. Pull it toward you and take out the shirt on top and wrap it around your arm like a bandage. Stop the bleeding as best you can, okay?”
“O-okay.”
“Good. I know you can do it, Audra. You’re the strongest person I know, baby. You’re Wonder Woman.”
I let out a small, strangled sound, halfway between a laugh and a sob just as the duffel bag landed on the ground near my left leg.
“Shit, sorry, I tried to get it closer to your arms. Can you get it with the piece of metal?”
I nodded, lifting my head just enough to see exactly where the duffel bag was, using the long piece of metal to hook on the strap so I could drag it closer.
“Good work,” Dane said. “After you tie your arm, there are blankets in there, too. Try not to get them wet because we need them, but cover yourself with them, all right?”
“Y-yes,” I said, unzipping the bag now next to me on the ground. I pulled out the cotton shirt and then unzipped my jacket, crying out in pain as I pulled my right arm from the sleeve, inch by slow inch. I heard Dane swear above, so I attempted to reassure him. “I’m okay. Just h-hurts.”
I didn’t want to look at my arm. I just wanted to continue to cradle it against my body, but I stole myself, taking a deep breath and looking down. The top of my arm was relatively untouched. It was the underside that was bloody and mangled, the flesh hanging loose in two spots. Bile rose in my throat but I swallowed it down, searching for every ounce of courage. Dane was going to rappel down to me on a handmade rope while practically unconscious with fever. I was not going to lose it over a bloodied arm.
Using the cotton to wrap around the worst of my injuries, I used one hand to tie the sleeves at my wrist so it was pulled as tight as possible. I worked as quickly as I could, shivering so severely I could barely manage the task. But I did, and as soon as it was done, I pulled my coat back on, took the blankets from the duffel bag, and carefully put them on top of me, ensuring the edges didn’t touch the snow. Better, better.
“Just a few more,” Dane said, referring to the knots he was tying, I assumed. God, how w
as he doing it while he could barely walk? How could this be happening? Even if he did make it down to me, what were we going to do? I couldn’t walk. Don’t think, not now. Wait for Dane and come up with a plan together.
Together.
My heart raged in my chest, and my harsh breathing plumed in the air and I focused on Dane’s voice above me as he talked. “Did I ever tell you I took sailing lessons when I was fourteen?” he asked. I knew he didn’t expect me to answer because he didn’t wait for my replies, just peered at me between sentences. I was thankful, because the effort it took for me to yell up to him was too taxing. I was sure talking wasn’t any easier for him, but at least he didn’t have to shout. His voice carried down to me. But there were unusual pauses between his words, so I knew he was having trouble catching his breath, or perhaps concentrating. “Dustin took lessons too, and he was better at it than I was, which pissed me off. So I decided, fuck it, who needs to sail when you can swim? That’s what I was good at. But, one thing that came out of it is I learned how to tie a damn fine knot.”
I felt my lips tip into a small smile and my love for him was a living, breathing thing around me, swirling in the icy air. This awful, awful, unfathomable moment and I felt my love for him so clearly, so profoundly, a current of warmth, a burst of light in the darkness. Nothing was certain, nothing except the love beating through my veins, wrapped around my soul. I closed my eyes and let it burn inside me like I’d swallowed one of those glowing stars and made it mine.
“I’m going to throw a few more things I grabbed at the camp, but just leave them where they land. And then I’m coming down.”
Oh thank God. “Please be safe,” I managed.
“I will.” I heard a few things hit the ground near me, and one farther away, but didn’t turn my head to look. My eyes were trained on the spot where Dane would come over the cliff, my heart thumping loudly in my ears. What if he fell too? What if he couldn’t make it? What if—
