Semper Mine

by Lizzy Ford

  “Okay, this should be good. Do you have toilet paper or something?” I ask with a grimace.

  “Captain Mathis made us bring some.”

  That man is so freaking anal. It’s moments like these that I can’t imagine being with him long term.

  Not that I’m considering it. Where the hell did that thought come from?

  Jenna moves into the bushes.

  “Careful, Jenna. Not so close to the ravine,” I call, remembering the safety briefing warning about mudslides.

  The rustling stops, and I wait. Five minutes pass. I pull out my phone to check the time. This really isn’t the place for doing something other than peeing, but that’s just me.

  Another minutes passes.

  “Jenna? You almost done?” I ask.

  No answer.

  “Jenna?”

  Concerned, I push through the brush and frown. She’s not there.

  I hear some kind of sound, a squeak or muffled cry. Starting forward, I freeze. The mud here is even softer, giving out beneath my feet, sliding towards the edge of the ravine. I snatch a tree branch and haul myself back.

  Panic stirs. I can’t see Jenna anywhere. I circle around the tree and test the mud on the other side. It’s loose but not as slippery. Stepping away from the trunk, I inch forward cautiously, freezing whenever the ground starts to give.

  “I’m coming, Jenna,” I cry. “Hang in there!”

  No response. Please, please be okay! Desperate for a sign that she’s alive, I risk moving away from the trees. Almost immediately, the mud beneath me begins to shift towards the ravine. I fall flat on my belly, and the shifting stops. Cold wetness sinks through my clothing. Carefully, I rise up to my knees and inch forward. A downed, rotted out tree has roots sticking out over the edge of the ravine, and I slide as close as I dare, hanging onto one.

  “Jenna?” I lean over the edge.

  She’s a good ten feet below, hanging onto a tree root, sobbing and covered in mud.

  “Oh, Jesus, Jenna!”

  I’m feeling overwhelmed. The drop down the steep hill into the ravine is a good thirty feet of mud and branches. Seeing it makes me want to cry, because there’s no easy way to get to her.

  “Hang on, honey. I’ll figure this out.” I stretch back and grab my phone out of my back pocket. My hands are trembling. I pull up the contact information for the first person I can think of and text quickly. Need help. In the forest with Jenna. Mudslide.

  Pushing send, I replace it.

  “Can’t … hang on.” Jenna is crying.

  “Yes, you can!” I can hear the hysteria entering my voice. I move closer. There are branches and roots between her and me that I can use to climb down to her. I stretch for the first and test it. It’s a little too flexible for my liking. My hurt wrist aches, and I ease myself onto another one.

  “Katya!” Captain Mathis’ shout reaches me no more than two minutes after the text I sent him.

  “Here!” I yell.

  “Stay where you are!”

  Nope. Not when Jenna is about to let go. “Hurry!”

  The branch beneath me snaps, and I drop. My wrist burns at the sudden weight. I quickly plant my feet on another branch. I trained as a ballerina for years under my mother and take yoga and Pilates now. My muscles are trained for tiny, isolated movements like these. Like a cat, I can balance on a pinhead if I need to. I never thought that skill would come in handy outside of the studio.

  With one leg, I stretch behind me and test another branch before carefully shifting my weight. It’s excruciatingly slow, but I’m making my way to Jenna. I concentrate on moving one branch at a time and not on how precarious my position is.

  “Katya?” His voice is closer.

  “Down here. Careful! The mud is really loose!”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. Jenna’s stuck. I’m almost to her.”

  I hear him curse. I’m not sure this is the time or place to remind him not to say such things in front of the kids. I’m more worried about my balance at this point.

  “I’ve got rope. Keep talking, so I can tell where you are,” he orders me.

  “I’m right here. Rescuing Jenna, who is not going to let go, right, sweetie?” I try to keep my tone upbeat. It’s trembling, along with my insides. “Captain Mathis is here, Jenna. If you let go, he’ll make you run extra laps.”

  “Nice.” Captain Mathis doesn’t sound amused. “Tell me if you see the rope.”

  I shift one branch lower and look up. A rope is snaking down from the branches of a tree nearby. It’s a good three feet away.

  “I don’t think I can reach it and Jenna.”

  “Petr’s here. Give me thirty seconds.”

  I have no clue what he’s planning. His calm voice helps me focus, and I maneuver my way down through more roots and branches, closer to Jenna.

  “You okay, sweetie?” I ask softly. “I’m almost there. Then Captain Mathis will help us up. Okay?”

  Jenna nods, crying.

  Another careful step down, and I reach out to her, taking her forearm. Unaware of how delicate my position is, she grabs me. One of the branches beneath me sags dangerously, and I shift to drape a leg over a sturdier branch and haul her warm body into my arms. She curls against me. I hiss through clenched teeth, struggling to balance us.

  We’re too heavy. Both branches begin to move beneath my weight, and I start to panic. “Jenna, honey, I need you to put your feet on this branch.”

  She’s clinging to me, crying and shaking.

  “Jenna, please! Just … try to stay calm and … focus on this branch.” I can’t keep my tone steady, and I’m losing my grip on one of the branches overhead. With one of my arms around her, I’m not in a position to move more than my legs.

  The scuff of boots against wood draws my eyes upwards. With effortless ease I don’t think I’ve ever felt for physical exertion, Captain Mathis is scaling downwards quickly. He reaches us and pauses a couple of feet up, where the branches are thicker and sturdier, then loosens one of the ropes around him, using the second to secure himself into place.

  “Pass her up,” he says quietly, holding out one hand. I take in his roped forearm and the bulging biceps and decide he’s got a much better chance of getting Jenna to safety than I do.

  My position is far from steady. My abs and thighs are screaming from remaining in place at the odd angle. I shift the best I can and tighten my grip on the branch above then carefully draw one knee towards my chest to push Jenna’s bottom up.

  “Jenna, hon, you need to help me,” I say, straining. Cold fear is expanding within me, and I’m both terrified I’ll lose my grip on her and certain if I stretch too much farther to push her up to him, I’ll fall.

  “Jenna, give me your hand.” Captain Mathis’ voice is firm and calm.

  The girl in my arms unfolds, and I struggle to counterbalance us with her movements. She meets my gaze briefly before looking up.

  “C…captain Mathis, I want bacon again,” she says, eyes welling with more tears.

  Again? It wasn’t on the menu at all. Not that this is the right time to discuss breakfast.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he replies. “On the count of three, place your foot on that branch at your knee and climb towards me. This is like the wall you climbed over earlier today. Piece of cake. Right?”

  Jenna doesn’t answer, but she’s stopped crying and is listening.

  “One.”

  She shifts, and I grunt. I don’t need to look down to know the branch under my right foot is getting ready to snap.

  “Two.”

  She pushes at me with one hand to maneuver her foot.

  Instinctively, I press Jenna against the muddy wall. She dangles dangerously. A split second later, my hurt wrist gives out the same time the branch snaps. Fear tears through me as my balance is thrown.

  “Gotcha.” Captain Mathis snatches my forearm.

  “Holy fuck!” I breathe.

  “Three, J
enna.” Secured by a rope, he’s got two hands free, one holding me while the other stretches towards her. “Katya, move your right foot up about six inches. That should hold you.”

  I’ll never understand how he can sound so calm when I’m two seconds from plunging to my death. There are tears on my face, and I want to break down and sob. His steadiness helps me, and I shift my foot until it finds the rock jutting from the side of the ravine.

  Jenna glances at me fearfully before shakily pushing herself up and reaching out to Captain Mathis. He grabs her. With my other hand free, I rebalance myself and tug my arm out of his grip. When I’m stable, I watch him quickly and expertly secure the rope around her in a way that she can’t possible fall out of it.

  “Petr!” He calls when he’s done. “Sixty five pounds.”

  “Got it!”

  Seconds later, Jenna starts upward slowly.

  As soon as she leaves his arms, Captain Mathis motions to me. My muscles are burning and I force them to cooperate. He takes my wrist again and pulls me upward with strength I know he possesses but which surprises me nonetheless. It takes a minute or two before he can reach me well enough for his arm to circle my midsection and draw me against him. I find a sturdy branch for my feet and he leans into me, pressing me between his warm body and the cold, muddy wall.

  “You okay?” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

  “Sorta.” I’m shaking from exertion and cold.

  He wraps his other arm around me. “Relax for a minute.”

  I think you mean – go ahead and collapse. I keep my trap closed and listen to him, comfortable in his arms once more. My muscles are burning.

  “I’ve got you, Katya,” he says in the gentle tone he used last night. “Catch your breath then we’ll move.”

  “Did I mention that I hate camping?” I mumble.

  “You’re doing fine, Katya.”

  I close my eyes. “I’m so sorry. If I was better at this shit or if I bothered to look before she walked off, maybe -”

  “Focus on your breathing, Katya. Let’s get through this first.”

  “You may be invincible, but I’m not!”

  “Not the time or place,” he says. The cold bastard has the balls to be amused, like we’re not dangling off the side of a ravine. “Though if you feel like talking, how about telling me about Harris and that bruise on your cheek.”

  “Talk about not the time or place!” I saw the look on his face earlier. It scared the hell out of me. I’m pissed at Harris, but I don’t want his neck snapped.

  “Was he the one who hit you?”

  “Really? That’s what you’re thinking about right at this very moment?”

  “Yes or no.”

  “Why?”

  “Yes or no.”

  Beyond stressed out, I don’t want to think about Harris. “Yes. Now back off.”

  Captain Mathis shifts me in his grip and rests his chin against my temple. I don’t want to know what’s going through his mind, if he’s recalling how he held me last night. Because Harris aside, I am definitely thinking about what almost happened. My body is fevered on the inside and chilled on the outside, and I’m far too aware of where his hands are, considering our dangerous situation. His strong, solid frame is at my back, the only thing standing between me and the ravine.

  I like being this close to him a little too much.

  He’s too quiet.

  “You aren’t going to do something to him, are you?” I ask.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because you’re going to make things worse then go away, and I’ll have to deal with him. I can handle it.”

  “I’ll make sure you don’t have to.”

  I sigh and sag into his body. He supports my weight with ease, and I rest my head against his shoulder. “Please don’t.”

  “Someone’s got to take care of you. You won’t let your brother, and I’m not asking for permission,” he replies.

  “I’m fine. I don’t need anyone taking care of me in any way!”

  There’s a pause before he responds. “The Harris issue aside … You won’t let anyone else take care of you, so I’ll say what no one else will. You haven’t given yourself time to heal from Mikael’s death. It’s why you have these aggression issues and an unhealthy way of expressing yourself and why you are strangling Petr to death with mothering him.”

  This really isn’t the time and place to hear him talk about something like this. I listen. His words hit harder than I expect, maybe because I’m in his arms. Or maybe because it’s true. I’ve been running from the pain of Mikael’s death, throwing myself into caring for Petr, because I don’t know what else to do.

  Maybe that’s why this week is so important to me. I need to prove that I’m alive when I feel so dead inside. Petr is getting better. I know it. I see it.

  It scares me, too, because when he gets to the point where he doesn’t need me, when he goes back to viewing me as the annoying little sister he always has, I’ll be alone with my pain.

  “So you’re saying I’m broken,” I whisper. “Like you.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” There’s a quiet note in his voice that makes me want to see his face. “Sometimes it takes someone you don’t expect to point it out.”

  Captain Mathis is doing a damn good job of making this experience hell. He has a way of speaking the truth I would really like to avoid. I feel like my whole world is tumbling out of control and swallow tears.

  “Speaking of last night …” I say, needing my anger. I let the words hang in the tension between us.

  “You sure you want to go there?” he asks quietly.

  With his heat at my back and muscular arms around me, I’m not sure how to answer. I’m an emotional wreck right now, more so than usual. Last night was even more intense than our normal exchanges. The potential for something incredible is there, but it’s not what I’m looking for. And …

  … he scares me. Sawyer has this way of seeing straight through me, of turning my world on its head and pushing aside my shell to reach the part of me I’m doing my damnedest to hide. I don’t want that. It’s too intimate to give someone like him access to me like that.

  “No,” I whisper.

  “When you’re ready, let me know.”

  What the hell does that mean? Does he want to talk about it, or does he want something more?

  I hear my breath catch, and my lower belly begins burning. Last night was an utter mistake. If I could continue pretending there was nothing between us but Mikael, this would be so much easier.

  “Maybe we can talk about something that doesn’t make me cry,” I manage.

  “Okay … how about … I keep reaching for my good luck charm and realizing it’s not there. I’m not happy about losing it. Had it for ten years, but I reach for it every day.”

  Grateful for the change of subject, I latch onto the innocuous statement. “Where did you lose it?”

  “Somewhere in Iraq.”

  “Oh.” Keep talking about shit that doesn’t matter! I’m going to cry if I don’t. I wrack my brain for what to say next. “What does it look like?”

  “Ever heard of a Ruptured Duck?”

  “No.”

  “It was a pin given to vets at discharge after World War One. Small little thing. Beat up and worthless to everyone but me. I took it everywhere from the time I was sixteen until a few months ago.”

  I smile to myself. This friendly Captain Mathis I really like. It strikes me that we never really have small talk. We tend to be too busy circling and poking each other to talk about the weather or something as simple as a good luck charm.

  I bet he’d be nice to talk to, if we could talk like normal people. I know he’s a good listener, and he seems observant and smart, if quiet.

  “Got her!” Petr’s shout breaks the tension.

  “Our turn.” Captain Mathis moves behind me.

  I twist to see. He’s unwrapping the rope from his body. He secures it around me and eases away.r />
  “I’ll go up then signal you to follow,” he says, back to business. “Do me a favor and listen to instructions for once.”

  Asshole. I say nothing but grip the branches nearest me and wait.

  Captain Mathis gives another display of effortless power, pulling himself up the rope with strength that makes me tremble inside for a reason other than fear. The sense I experienced last night – that he’s got the most perfect body in the world – is returning, along with awe and respect I don’t want to feel for him.

  He reaches the top in seconds and releases the rope. Disappearing from view for a moment, I hear him talking to Petr without being able to make out either of their voices.

  “Hel-lo!” I shout finally. “Waiting!”

  His head appears, and his dark eyes hold mine briefly. Unreadable as usual, Captain Mathis pauses before taking the rope once more.

  “Ready?” he calls.

  I nod.

  He pulls me up in another display of strength. I weigh one twenty five, enough that he should be struggling. But he’s not.

  Man that’s so sexy. Whatever fear I should have about dangling over a ravine is gone as I sneak glances at his biceps between finding new branches and footholds.

  In under a minute, I’m up. He wraps an arm around me once more and pulls me out of the air to the tree where he’s got a second rope tied to. We balance on the tree roots. The muscles of my lower body are shaky, my wrist killing me. I melt into Captain Mathis, leery of the ravine a few inches away. He’s got one arm wrapped around the second rope.

  Petr is waiting on the other side of a few boards they laid across the mud. Riley is there as well, holding the other end of the rope attached to me, while the man I think is named Carson is holding a crying, shaking Jenna.

  Petr appears relieved the moment he spots me and offers a tight smile. “You doing okay, Kitty-Khav?”

  “Company could be better,” I reply.

  A surprised look crosses my brother’s face before he belts a laugh.

  “Cold. Captain Mathis saves your life and you still won’t cut him slack.” Riley lets a smile slip as well.

  I can’t see Captain Mathis’ face, for which I’m glad. He doesn’t drop me, so I assume he’s not too pissed. After our unnerving exchange, though, I kind of hope he is, so we can go back to hating each other. Whenever we’re alone together, I learn too much about him and me that makes me want to leave camp and never look back.