Just Enough Light

by AJ Quinn

  If she closed her eyes, she’d swear that had only happened minutes ago. Or yesterday. But if what Cody said was right, that clearly wasn’t the case. “Three days?” she whispered hoarsely.

  “We’ve all been taking turns watching you. Cooling you down with cold cloths and ice like Doc D showed us,” Ren said. “How are you feeling?”

  Doc D? Now wasn’t the time to question, because Kellen could see fear and concern warring in Ren’s eyes. Could hear it in her voice. She took a quick breath and forced a smile onto her face. “I’m not sure. You know nothing keeps me down for long, but for some reason I feel like I’ve been run over by a bear.”

  “Bears don’t run people over.” A giggle escaped Ren and she began to visibly relax. “They might nibble, but they’d probably think you’re too skinny and move on to something better.”

  “The doc said we needed to make sure you got fluids,” Cody said and Kellen followed her eyes to the near empty IV bag. “She showed me how to change the bag and she came by a few times to make sure I was doing it right and to check that you were doing okay.”

  Kellen heard the pride in her voice. “So you’re going to become a doctor now?”

  “No. Dana told me how long she had to study and I can’t see me doing that,” Cody answered seriously. “But maybe a paramedic, like Gabe, so I can still go out with the team. That’d be cool and Dana and Gabe both said they’d help me study.”

  Dana had certainly managed a small miracle, if both girls had let her get that close to them. Kellen’s smile was genuine this time. “I think you’d make a terrific paramedic. But then I think you both will be wonderful at whatever you choose.”

  “That’s because you love us,” Ren teased. “But I don’t like needles. I just want to paint.”

  “That makes you very lucky then, because it turns out you have an amazing talent,” Kellen said. “It would be a shame to waste it.”

  It had taken a lot of convincing before Ren had finally agreed to let them hang some of her wildlife paintings in the main office, and Kellen wondered when it might be a good time to let Ren know the small gallery in town wanted to start selling some of her work.

  Everyone who saw them thought she was exceptionally talented, but Kellen understood. Ren struggled with self-confidence and got skittish when it came to letting people see her work. Ren was afraid to let strangers get too close, afraid they would see into her soul, and see what had been done to her by looking at her paintings.

  All in good time, Kellen decided. Right now, she needed to dispose of the IV, take a long hot shower, and then indulge in some coffee. In that order. That would go a long way toward making her feel more human.

  Thankfully, the IV catheter came out smoothly.

  “What are you doing?” Cody asked.

  “I really need a shower and this”—she pointed at the IV—“is not coming with me. Could you get me a Band-Aid? And if someone could manage to brew a large pot of coffee by the time I come out, I would be forever grateful.”

  “With chocolate?” Cody asked.

  Kellen grinned. “Absolutely.”

  Cody nodded. “Okay, but I think Dana’s going to be pissed you did that.”

  “Probably,” Kellen said and wondered what the doctor would look like angry. Hot, that was how Cody had first described her. Dana would look hot, she decided with a smile.

  *

  Hot didn’t begin to describe how Dana was feeling when she stopped by the cabin and discovered her patient was missing. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

  Ren slipped quietly out of the cabin without a backward glance, but Cody held her ground. “Kellen’s fever topped out at 104,” she said, “but then it finally broke early this morning.”

  Dana sighed. “And—?”

  Cody stared at the floor for a moment, then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin in a move that so mimicked Kellen it left Dana speechless. “After she showered, we shared a brew and she talked to us for a bit. She explained she needed some time alone. She needed to figure out what to do. Then she packed a few things and took off with Bogart by her side.”

  “And you just let her go?” Dana struggled to keep the disbelief and anger out of her tone. It wasn’t just that Kellen had been weakened by her illness. There was danger in having her go off alone. It was palpable. Unrelenting. The terrain and the weather could be treacherous, unforgiving to a poorly placed foot or handhold. And there was a two-legged hunter, somewhere out there seeking her as his prey.

  Cody took a step back. “Kellen makes up her own mind, Dr. Kingston. And you grounded her, so there wasn’t much reason for her to stay.”

  Dana saw the hurt in the girl’s eyes, heard it in her voice and in the fact she was no longer calling her Dana, but had reverted to her formal title.

  “I’m sorry, Cody,” she said gently. “I’m not angry with you. I’m upset at the situation. Kellen’s been so sick and I’m worried about her because the fever will have left her weak and it could also come back. And I know she’s the best at search-and-rescue. The only reason she was grounded was to protect her. The FBI thinks she’s a target and we’ve got to protect her until they can find out who’s after her.”

  Cody’s stiff posture showed only faint signs of relaxing. “You don’t need to worry about Kel. She knows what she’s doing and she’s got Bogart to protect her. And it’s not like she won’t be back. She’ll come back as soon as she clears her head and sorts out how she’s feeling.”

  “How do you know?”

  “That’s easy.” Cody grinned, her face lighting up from the inside. “It’s what she said and Kellen doesn’t lie. Plus, if she was going for good, she’d have taken us. Me and Ren.”

  “She’d have taken you?”

  Cody nodded. “Yes. Sorry, Doc, but I’ve got to go check on Ren. Make sure she’s okay.”

  Dana stared at the front closet door long after Cody slipped away from the cabin, leaving her alone. It was less than five feet away and she wanted to open the door. Wanted to pull out and open the backpack Annie had talked about. Wanted to understand.

  The best safety lies in fear. Wasn’t it Shakespeare who had said that? Perhaps she was already beginning to understand. Without needing to open the door. Without violating Kellen’s privacy.

  Ten minutes later, Dana found herself in front of Annie. “She’s gone.”

  Annie glanced up. “I assume we’re talking about Kellen?”

  “Of course we’re talking about Kellen. The woman who’s driving us all crazy. Yesterday she’s running a fever of 104 and today she’s gone walkabout. Never mind there’s someone out there the FBI thinks is after her, wanting to kill her.” She stared at Annie for a moment and realized how calmly she was taking this turn of events. “You’re not surprised, are you?”

  “She’s not done it often, but Kellen has gone walkabout a time or two in the past few years. That’s a great term for it, by the way.” Annie smiled.

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “Nothing. We just wait.” Annie’s voice was as calm as her expression. “She’ll be back when she’s in a better place in her head, when she’s ready to deal with whatever’s going on. In the meantime, I’ve told the teams just enough to satisfy them. That Kellen’s been grounded as a precaution because it appears her shooter might be coming back to finish what he started. They understand all too well she’ll be frustrated, but they all support the decision. No one wants a reprise of the events from a year ago.”

  Dana swallowed hard and a soft groan escaped her lips as she looked out the window. The snow had been falling all day, with that slow steadiness and determination she was told made the natives in Haven and nearby communities check their supplies of candles and firewood. The kind of weather perfect for staying inside, not roaming through backcountry.

  “Then I guess we wait.”

  Chapter Nine

  As night descended, Kellen’s arms ached, her head throbbed, and she was bone-deep exhausted.


  Pain was something she could normally ignore. Another lesson she’d learned long ago. But what was different this time, and what she wasn’t certain she could ignore for much longer, was the weakness inside her. The feeling that someone had carved a gaping hole in the center of her life and left her to bleed out.

  That was what Calvin Grant had done when he’d raised the specter of the lost and broken child she’d once been. He’d shown her the threads of the past were impossible to completely sever. That she was only lying to herself if she believed she could eradicate the past.

  Her past.

  Over the years, she’d done everything she could to cover her tracks. To bury any connections to family. To her parents. She’d moved constantly, changed identities, and then moved again. Never certain whether or not her fears were warranted. Just knowing fear had always been there, a constant companion, a sliver in the back of her mind.

  She shook her head slightly but couldn’t stop the litany of what-ifs. She knew the girls were worried about her, but she couldn’t afford to think about them right now. She needed time to clear her head, time to collect her thoughts before making any decisions. Otherwise she wouldn’t be good for anyone, herself included.

  It didn’t help that she’d been running a low-grade fever all day. But she’d known instinctively when she’d left the cabin that an overnight trip on one of the numerous unmarked trails and time on her own would be just the tonic she needed to ground herself and regain some perspective.

  The trail she’d chosen was a familiar one that began as a gradual climb. It followed several switchbacks that ran through a beautiful section of forest on a south facing slope, surrounded by several massive, sharp peaks. Then it changed, and after leaving the lower trail behind, the terrain became rugged and more difficult, with ungroomed typical backcountry conditions in the higher elevations.

  That virtually guaranteed she’d be alone, which was what she really wanted. Other than Bogart, of course, who was playfully chasing shadows and trying to catch snowflakes in his mouth.

  The climb was well worth the effort. As she came up and out of the trees and approached the summit, a postcard-perfect panorama lay before her. She closed her eyes and drew the scent of pine and crisp mountain air into her blood.

  With the continuing fall of light snow, it had been a day without a sunrise or sunset. Instead, the day had stayed gray since morning. At some point, night had closed in without fanfare, and it was fully dark by the time she had her camp set up.

  The spot she’d chosen was protected from the elements by trees but still provided clean lines of sight in every direction. No one would be able to approach her without her seeing them or having Bogart alert. It would be safe here, she assured herself, and she could take the time she needed to think things through.

  Even better, the snow finally stopped and the sky had cleared. She started a fire, fed Bogart, and ate a freeze-dried meal of some kind—she could never really tell what it was by taste because they all tended to taste the same. Now she just needed to boil some water to make coffee.

  Once it was ready, she and Bogart sat on a boulder and gazed skyward. There was a beautiful, clear, star-studded sky visible as far as the eye could see, and the only sound was the occasional distant howl of a coyote. It was so beautiful. Perfect. And in spite of everything that was going on, she felt her spirit lifting and all traces of weariness vanished as a calm descended on her.

  On the second morning, while hiking with her camera and contemplating her next move, she was following some mountain goats when a movement somewhere above her started a rock slide. Small at first, it quickly gained momentum.

  Her first instinct was to protect Bogart. She yelled for him, then had just enough time to mourn the imminent loss of her Nikon—one of the very few personal indulgences she’d allowed herself over the years—before she turned all her energy to surviving. Every muscle inside her screamed for her to move. Half stumbling, half sliding, she grabbed Bogart and dragged him with her behind a large boulder. Holding him close, she protected him as best she could with her body and covered her head with her arms, while rocks continued to rain down around her.

  She wasn’t certain how long it took, or if perhaps she’d lost consciousness at some point. But Kellen was eventually fairly confident everything had stopped moving and opened her eyes. She was overjoyed to find Bogart staring at her, his nose inches from her own. Laughing out loud, she reached and rubbed his head between her hands, reassuring him she was all right while he licked her face. Shifting to a sitting position, she grimaced as she conducted a quick assessment, but concluded she’d gotten off lucky.

  She had a raging headache. That much was certain. She was also covered in an assortment of bruises, but she didn’t think anything vital was broken. There was a lump on her head, only slightly bloodied, and she decided it could be ignored once she cleaned it. The worst of the damage appeared to be a deep laceration to her right thigh where the bleeding seemed to be the heaviest, and a smaller one on her left arm. The good news was there was no pain from her wounds yet, although she knew given time it could come.

  Feeling faintly light-headed, but not certain whether it was the result of the blow she took to her head, blood loss, or simply a reaction to what had happened, Kellen began to make her way back to her camp. She was uncomfortably aware she was leaving a blood trail that would be far too easy to follow by both four- and two-legged predators and knew she’d have to move quickly. Get the bleeding under control, tear down her camp, and head back to the security of her cabin on the outskirts of Haven.

  Once in her makeshift camp, she dug into her pack and pulled out a first-aid kit containing gauze, peroxide, and superglue, plus a needle and some suture thread. Laying everything out within easy reach, she removed her ruined clothes and examined the damage.

  The cut on her arm would be fine with the superglue, she decided and set about cleaning and disinfecting the wound. Once it was clean, she opened the tube of glue and applied it as best she could to her arm, closing the cut. She then blew on it until it dried sufficiently.

  Her leg was another matter, and she delayed as long as possible while she studied what turned out to be a pair of parallel tears, knowing it was going to hurt like crazy. The bleeding had slowed in one cut, but the second was deeper. There was no question both would require stitching. She was also beginning to shake as reaction set in, and she knew she had to act fast.

  After cleaning the cuts and threading the needle, she found the first piercing into her leg stung ridiculously. Kellen sucked in a breath, concentrated on ignoring the burning pain, and focused on making two neat rows of tiny stitches. She kept it together until she snipped the last stitch, then allowed her body to go limp as her world narrowed to a single point of pain.

  *

  As another night approached, Dana finished interviewing a nurse practitioner with Annie, checked on the progress of the construction in the medical center, and then headed to Kellen’s cabin, much as she had done for the last two days. Not that she expected Kellen to have come back unnoticed. She just wanted to be there when the wanderer finally returned.

  She encountered the girls just as they were leaving the cabin. That they were equally concerned about Kellen was self-evident. Ren looked at her hopefully until Dana shook her head, indicating she hadn’t heard anything new. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew something, but I don’t.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Cody replied.

  “I hope so.”

  The girls wished her a good night then disappeared into the darkness, leaving Dana to let herself in. The silence of the cabin welcomed her and surrounded her with Kellen. With her belongings and her style, her carvings, and even her scent.

  For the first few minutes, she busied herself rebuilding the fire the girls had started. She ate the sandwich she’d brought while standing up in the kitchen, then made some coffee and poured herself a hefty mug. After tidying the kitchen, she stretched out on the sofa, closed her eyes, and began
what had become a nightly vigil. Waiting for Kellen to return.

  She must have fallen asleep. There could be no other explanation because when she next opened her eyes Bogart was only inches away, looking at her curiously. When he licked her hand in greeting, Dana sat up, scratched his head, and looked around until she spotted Bogart’s travel companion.

  She stopped breathing. Had to force herself to begin again.

  Kellen had shed her top and was wearing only a navy sports bra, bloodied and filthy jeans, and bruises. She was leaning over the stainless-steel sink in the kitchen and was sticking her arm under running water.

  For a moment, Dana stared at her pale face and bloodshot eyes. She looked to be in pain and emotionally wrung out. But what worried her even more was Kellen had a great deal of blood on her—likely her own—and Dana had no idea how badly she was hurt.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Kellen said without looking up. She sounded so tired. Using her elbow, she shut off the faucet and raised her dripping forearm while she inspected the cut. “It should have stayed closed, but the damned glue didn’t dry properly. Probably got too cold out on the mountain. Still, it looks clean enough, don’t you think? More like a bad cat scratch than anything else, though it stings a little.”

  Stings a little? Nonplussed, Dana looked at the blood and water running from Kellen’s cut and bruised arm. She stared a moment longer at the bruises covering her back, then looked down at her ripped and bloodied jeans. It made her wonder what horror lay beneath the jagged tears.

  “Your arm could use stitching,” she said, “but that’s a guess. I’d also like to take a look at your leg.”

  “My leg’s fine, but my arm—” She scowled at the cut. “I just wish the glue had held. The location of the cut made it impossible for me to stitch it myself.”

  “Stitch it yourself?” Dana searched her eyes. “Is that what you did with your leg?”