by Lynn Lamb
“Okay,” I said.
It was then that I noticed how cold it really was. I must have been shivering for a while, because my stomach muscles were clenched and aching. I looked down at my clothes and noticed that my shirt was crusted with now freezing blood. I gasped and flinched at the realization.
Jackson looked at me with concern. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Bleeding,” I said.
“You’re not bleeding, that’s his blood. You are okay. I won’t let anything more happen to you.” He stopped what he was doing and began to look around again. “Hallelujah,” he proclaimed.
He brought over some towels, rubbing alcohol and a snow uniform and handed them to me.
“Here’s what you are going to do,” he told me in a melodic tone. He went back to scraping the walls. “You have to take off everything you are wearing, including bra and panties. Okay? Put the blankets around you. Then you need to clean all of the blood off of your skin. Okay, darlin’? Dry yourself with another blanket really good. Put on that uniform when you are all done. Okay, honey? Do you need me to help?”
“Okay,” I said. “No, I, I can…”
I put the camera on a chair and turned it to face a wall. I still wanted to get this all on record, now more than ever. I kept picturing the archeologists in that very snow cave, hundreds of years from now, discovering this scene and my camera.
I pulled off my shirt and bloody icicles that were now attached to my skin tore as I peeled my shirt from my body. I cleaned the top half of myself exactly as I was told. My shoes and socks came next. I was startled to see that even my socks were bloody. I systematically continued until all that was left was my hands. I had no clean socks, so I tucked my body into a sleeping bag, but I was still so cold.
“Ja, Jackson,” I said through chattering teeth. I couldn’t say anymore.
He tried to run to my side, but slid on the bloody ice floor and landed right on top of me.
“Smmmooottthh,” I said.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he told me, but I suspected that he was trying to convince himself that I was okay.
“Bbbblllooooood,” I said and pointed to his shirt.
“Not as much on mine somehow. There are more uniforms over there,” he said as he started to rip the Velcro closures of his shirt. He toweled off his muscular chest and started to pull off his pants, so I turned my head. I assumed he was going to change into a clean uniform, but he started to undress me, next.
I went to slap his hands away, but as soon as I pulled a hand from under the sleeping bag it froze in the air, and I tucked it back under.
“Nnnnoooo,” I said.
“FUCK,” he screamed. “I am not going to let you die of hypothermia. No. Not you. Not now. This is the only way.”
He climbed into the sleeping bag beside me and finished undressing me.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do,” he said, pulling me into his warmth. I never thought him capable of being so uncertain. He always had the answers.
“Laura, what you did out there was real brave,” he said, voice almost trembling. “Please don’t hate me.”
I wanted to cry, but the tears must have frozen in my eyes. I was there when the life left Rolette’s body. I didn’t blame Jackson. He saved everyone. I wished I could tell him that, but I couldn’t even get out a frozen stutter anymore.
The only way that I could communicate that I didn’t blame him about any of it was to push myself closer into his naked body with my own. I could only hope he understood what I was trying to relate to him.
He reached out to the candles and lit them. “They might help some. God damn it, this cave wasn’t built for people. It’s too big. Maybe we should risk it and try and get to a smaller one.”
“Nanana,” I said, shaking my head.
“You would rather die than risk their lives, wouldn’t you?”
I nodded, never losing eye contact with him.
“And you wonder why I’m in love with you,” he said.
My brain stopped at that.
“Okay, let’s go back to breathing,” he said as his chest rose to my back.
I wriggled away from him a bit.
“Don’t worry, it’s not some strange sex move. I was just demonstrating.”
“Nnottt ttthhhaaatt,” I said. Something had gotten my attention outside, but I wasn’t sure what.
A loud blast was going off.
“Oh, no, no, NO,” he said. His face muscles clinched tightly. “It’s Monterey.”
As my body began to warm, I was able to cry.
∞
I woke wearing only the uniform shirt, and I was surrounded by boxes. I was covered with so many blankets I could hardly move. A clothed Jackson was rushing around, arranging things.
I closed my eyes just before I felt him turn to me. I didn’t want him to know that I was awake. I needed to think first.
Even through my drug addled fog, I remembered everything. Monterey was gone, at least partially. And Jackson’s body had been the single most comforting thing I had ever felt. Was that because of my powerful fear? No, it was more. I never, not for one minute, forgot that I was married, but I began to question it all.
I opened my eyes. “Excuse me, sir. Does this outfit come in my size?”
“I wouldn’t mind if you went back to what you weren’t wearing before,” he said under his breath. I guess he thought I couldn’t hear him.
I felt a hot, calloused hand on my cheek as he sat beside me. “We are still here,” he said.
“It seems like it. Is it over?”
“I don’t know, but we haven’t gotten the signal. We need to stay here until we hear it or someone comes to get us,” he said. “It must be dark out now. Once in a while I hear helicopters. I don’t know what’s happening, and it’s pissing me off.”
“I don’t mind being down here anymore, I just wish that it wasn’t with him,” I said, pointing in the direction that Jackson’s voice was coming from earlier.
“I am sorry about that. The body is buried out of sight now, though.”
“Thank you, for everything. It was the right call,” I said.
He leaned back against a box, and his head rolled back to rest on it for support.
I stared up at him. I didn’t feel I needed to speak.
“Good,” he said.
I rested my head on his thigh. He stroked my hair. I felt at peace and something I hadn’t felt in a long time; desire.
I hoisted myself up and came to a straddling position on his lap, my face inches from his. I looked up at his eyes to see his reaction. He was shaking his head “no” so I swayed back a little, unsure of what I was doing, nor what he wanted me to do. Maybe he wasn’t attracted to me anymore. Maybe my malnourished, unclothed body had turned him off.
“You told me you loved me, and you also said that I would stop being mean to you when I realized how I felt,” my strained voice said.
As I was persuading myself to stop being such a fool, I felt his body respond to me in hardness. I looked into his eyes and saw a reflection of my own emotions of uncertainty and lust.
I moved slowly, giving him time to protest. He didn’t. I pressed my mouth against his in a desperate need for closeness. He grabbed my arms and pulled me closer. In that moment, I wanted to stay in that position forever. Moving forward was just as frightening as moving back, both in the physical space and a time continuum.
Had I fallen in love with Jackson and not realized it because I was too busy hating him? That’s what my heart was telling me.
Was following your heart the same as following your gut? The answer was no, and I didn’t care.
His tongue filled not just my mouth, but an empty space in me that didn’t have a name.
“I’m not wearing bottoms,” I said before I could self-edit.
“I am very, very aware of that,” he said.
In one fell swoop, he wrapped his arm around me and lay me down on the blankets. He took
his time, slowly unpeeling the Velcro on my uniform top. I heard the zipper sliding down its track.
The candle light illuminated Jackson’s face as he opened my shirt, and gently pulled it off of my body.
The rest of this journal entry was never recovered. The camera’s lens appeared to be closed, but continued to catch audio until the words: “I am very, very aware of that.”
∞
A scraping sound followed by a rustling sound coming from the hatch woke us. Out of a combination of fear and embarrassment, I dove into the sleeping bag.
“Ahum,” said Fitzpatrick.
“Blow out the candle,” I whispered harshly from under the covers.
“It’s okay,” said Jackson. “It’s just Fitz.
“Umm, not okay,” I said.
“Fitz, turn around for a second.”
I stuck my hand out, and Jackson handed me my top and I scrambled to put it on under the blankets. He laughed.
“Fitz, what’s going on? Are we all clear?”
“Negative. We’re not sure, but it sounds like they are sending convoys up and down the trail,” Fitz explained. “I came to ask Laura what she wants us to do about the Villagers.”
My head shot out from my hiding place. “Why me? This is military stuff.”
“Sorry, honey,” said Jackson. “But you said that you handle all the decisions for the Village. This is your rodeo now.”
“Okay, Fitz, can you go from cave to cave and tell everyone about the convoys? But be gentle. Actually, take my brother, and let him talk. He’ll know what to say, and they will take it much better coming from him. Make sure there are no footprints. And deal with the military stuff the way you see fit.”
“And what do I say to your, um, Mark?” asked Fitz. “He’s having a cow over there. He wanted to come, but lucky for you, I ordered him to stay on the radios.”
“Tell him to stay put,” I said.
“How am I going to explain that you didn’t come back with me?” he asked.
I looked at Jackson. My brain froze for about the millionth time.
“You can’t lie, Laura,” Jackson told me. “But I can. Fitz, tell him that she twisted her ankle when she came down the rope. Say that she is fine, but she shouldn’t be moved. And she’s not having the tacky-phobia because she’s all doped up and has been sleeping almost the whole time.”
“Affirmative.” And with that, Fitz was gone. He probably wanted to get out of that stinking cave as fast as he could climb. For that, I didn’t blame him.
∞
The king of all awkward silences went on for minutes that felt like hours.
Finally, Jackson said, “He won’t tell. He’s my brother.”
“Yeah, I know how army bros lie to cover up each other’s trysts.”
“Is that what this is to you, a tryst?” he asked accusingly. “Okay, here is how this has to go, so listen. This never happened. Mark can never find out.”
That knife to my gut stung more than anything Jackson has ever said to me.
“Is that how it is? Wave your magic wand of lies and this all goes away?” I asked.
He looked at me carefully and said, “No, you don’t understand. You and Mark are the Queen and King of the Village. They like him, he’s a good guy, and they need you both together. I am just the lying government to them. If you climb out of here with your complete inability to lie and tell them about this, the Village will fall and most of them would go and do something stupid and probably die.”
“You don’t want me?” I asked because that was all that I could hear from what he said.
“I have never wanted anything in the world more than I have wanted you. I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you. It was about a year before the war started. The real estate agent was showing me the house. I wasn’t sure that the Monte Vista neighborhood was the best place, knowing what was coming. But I saw you unloading groceries from your car with Mark. You were staring off in a daze and you looked sad, Laura. You were really sad, yet your sadness was so beautiful.” He caressed my face as he continued. “And even though I had no idea who you were, I wanted to run over to you and hold you until that sadness went away. I don’t know where it came from, but I had this knowledge that I could take it all away. Not even my compatriots know this, but you are why I chose the Monte Vista Village to save.”
“I know why I was sad,” I said. “My life and my marriage were not perfect before the war. Not even close. We were no prince and princess fairy tale, Phillip. Mark’s not innocent, either. He was having an affair and I knew. I knew, and I did nothing but let it eat me up inside for months until I finally just exploded with it. He begged me not to leave him, and I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”
“So, is that what this was? Revenge?”
My eyes spontaneously spurted tears, and I couldn’t control them. “You think that I would…”
“No, no, honey. I am sorry. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” he said encircling me in his arms. “I know that is not who you are. That was my old defense mechanism, making you seem like the bad guy so that it will be easier to let you go. But that is what I have to do, Laura. I have to give you up, for the Villagers. Because they are what you live for, what you have been living for since the Last War. The Last War… guess we named that one too soon. Heh.”
“I am not as good of a person as you are, as it turns out. I don’t want to give you up,” I said.
Follow your gut, girl.
He grinned and let out a breath of relief, which made what I had to say next so hard. “But you are right. They won’t understand.”
He nodded. “You know I’m not that good, either. When we get them safely to the Valley, I am going to come to you. But now you are going to have to do something that is going to be so completely against your nature; you have to tell a lie of omission. Can you?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Since we are gushing all these truths, I have to tell you something else,” he said.
I wasn’t sure I could take anymore truthfulness. “Maybe we can just be two big old liars,” I said.
He laughed. “No, I don’t want any more lies between us, Laura. I let you believe that I had something to do with you being chosen as the leader. Those people, your people, picked you on their own. They knew you would guide them with honesty, gentleness and love. It was all you in the end.”
A new flood of tears erupted.
Jackson took me, and I melted into his arms. “Your tears are my bloody Kryptonite.”
∞
“How long do you think we are going to be stuck in here?” I asked. We found comfort in each other again, and we were lying under the sleeping bags, but this time we got dressed right after.
“Ah, so you’re sick of me already?” said Jackson with a full-bodied laugh.
I laughed, too. “Nope, but I am starting to get those old familiar feelings. I am fighting it, though.”
“Good, you can take more pills if you need to, but if we could get you past this without them, maybe you could kick it for good,” he said.
I stood and pulled shoes onto my sockless feet and realized they were no longer covered in bloody goo.
“Thanks for cleaning these,” I said. I got up and started to walk around our manmade ice palace. “So, how can I get past my phobia? It’s not something that I like about myself.”
“First,” he began seriously, “I know how hard it is, all of those people wearing all of those really awful clothes. It’s bad.”
I burst into a fit of laughter until the cave began to tremble with the sound of engines. I dove into Jackson’s arms again.
“Planes, not trucks,” he told me. “Your body is vibrating you’re shaking so badly. Remember to listen to my voice and breathe. I won’t let anything happen to you. Isn’t there something, like, ‘who, who, ha’?” he asked, demonstrating a proper breathing technique.
“That’s Lamaze, you foolio,” I said. “I’m not giving birth.�
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“Now, that would be a real twist, wouldn’t it?” he said with a glance at me through the corner of his eye.
I couldn’t help but giggle at my gullible self. He pulled me in and kissed my raw, swollen lips.
We sat for the next ten minutes without a word between us. Jet engines continued to roar over our heads.
And then they just stopped.
“What’s next?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered.
A half an hour after the last rumble of an engine we heard the unmistakable sound of the lid to our cave scraping open.
“Knock, knock,” said Fitzpatrick. “Everyone decent down there?”
“Ha, ha,” Jackson said. “Get your ass down here.”
“What’s happening?” I asked him.
This time he came all the way into our shelter, past the boxes that were arranged to help keep us warm.
“Turns out Major Kim got some of her translation wrong,” he told us.
I didn’t even know that she was listening in. So, at least some of the transmissions were in Korean.
“Mark was able to verify the Arabic, and it turns out that they were not sending convoys down the trail. They were leaving. That’s what we just heard.”
“How can we be sure Mark’s right?” asked Jackson.
“He’s right,” I jumped to my husband’s defense. Jackson glared at me. “It’s his first language, for Christ’s sake.”
I pulled on one of the uniform jackets and woolen beanie hats. I must have looked ridiculous, like Private Benjamin.
“We need to let everyone know. Sound the all clear,” I told them. Jackson opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “It’s my rodeo, right?”
“That it is,” said Jackson. He turned to Fitzpatrick. “Start, I’ll be right out.”
Fitz left us. I was eager to get the hell out into the fresh air, but it was hard to leave knowing that we would not have private time again, at least not for a while.
“We’ve said a lot down here,” Jackson said. “And we did a lot down here, too. What I need you to remember is that they need you and Mark together right now.”
