Alaska Wild

by Helena Newbury

  “You’ll be fine,” called Boone. I could just make him out as a silhouette on the far side. “Just keep two hands on it and use your legs to shuffle along.” Then I saw him slap at his leg.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. A bug.”

  I took a deep breath and shuffled out over the water. The light was going fast, now. The log was black, the water was black. I could barely see where I was putting my hands. But the wood did feel solid. I told myself that, if the log was sitting on the ground, I wouldn’t think twice about it. It was plenty strong enough and wide enough. Just forget the water’s there.

  Except...I couldn’t forget it. The further out I shuffled, the more the crashing of the water surrounded me. The air felt different, too, wet and freezing cold with spray, as if the river was reaching up to grab me.

  “You’re doing great,” called Boone. “Nearly halfway.”

  I tried to make it mechanical: reach forward with my hands, shuffle forward with my ass. Reach forward with my hands, shuffle forward with my ass. Reach for—

  I screamed and pulled my hand back, heart pounding.

  “What?” yelled Boone.

  I’d put my hand on something and it had moved. “I don’t know!” I yelled, my voice high with panic.

  But I did know. My mind was just trying to deny it. It had been small and hard-shelled and it had scurried under my palm. A stab of fear shot up my spine.

  I stared at the log, but there was no detail, just a silhouette. I couldn’t see where to safely put my hands.

  “Kate?” yelled Boone.

  I was taking big, quick panic breaths through my nose, now, my eyes searching the log. And then, as my eyes adjusted to the gloom—

  The surface of the log was moving.

  I choked back a scream.

  They were pouring out of a hole. Little shiny-shelled beetles, thousands of them. The log was their home and Boone’s passage had woken them up.

  I tried to shuffle backward but I didn’t dare put my hands down. I humped my ass back but it was too slow, too slow—

  “Kate! Be careful!” Boone yelled.

  And then the beetles reached me. They spread out as they hit my spread thighs. Some ran over my knees and up my legs. Some went straight over my groin and up over my pants to—

  Oh Jesus tiny legs scurrying up inside my flapping blouse, over my stomach they’re on me they’re on me—

  “KATE!” Boone was climbing onto the log. “HOLD ON! HOLD ONTO THE LOG!”

  They were surging up my body, inside and outside my blouse, over my breasts and collarbone, heading for my mouth. I slapped with both hands, tearing at my clothes, twisting around so I could climb back the way I’d come—

  “KATE!”

  I felt my balance go, my legs sliding on the wood—

  And then I was falling.

  29

  Kate

  It was so dark, I couldn’t tell how far away the water was. I could just hear the roar as it waited to consume me.

  Then I plunged in and it was so brutally, unimaginably cold, it didn’t even feel like water. It felt like I’d been driven into solid ice, shards of it scraping and clawing at my body, biting right down to the bone. Water at freezing point isn’t liquid: it’s pain.

  It was in my mouth, in my lungs. I was a good swimmer. I knew to kick for the surface and I kicked...but every movement drove more cold into my muscles, making them scream. I kicked harder, desperate, trying to reach light and air….

  But when I broke the surface, it was just as dark as underwater. And the air was filled with spray that blinded me and crashing waves that smacked me in the face, making it impossible to breathe. I couldn’t get my bearings. I couldn’t see anything. But I knew I was moving: I could feel myself spinning around, rising and falling with terrifying speed.

  The river had me.

  And then the sound of the river changed. Right ahead, the water was smacking against something, the steady roar becoming chaos.

  Rocks. And I was heading straight for them.

  30

  Boone

  SEAL. It stands for Sea, Air and Land. Cute acronym or not, there’s a reason they put the sea part first. We’re Navy, before we’re anything else. Just because you’ll find us in a desert these days doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten that. Right from the very first day of training, we were in the water.

  The old reflexes kicked in. I was leaping as soon as I saw her start to fall. I hit the water only a second or two after she did.

  When I surfaced, I couldn’t see anything. But I knew she was ahead of me. I felt for the current, controlled my spin so I’d be looking right at her. Jesus it was cold. If I didn’t reach her fast, she was dead.

  I still had a couple of the emergency flares left and—thank God—they were waterproof. I struck one and held it as high above my head as I could, but the sputtering red glow only went about ten feet out. And Kate was nowhere in sight. Shit!

  I hurled the flare as hard as I could into the air ahead of me. The glow got fainter but wider...and there she was, being thrown around like a twig. “KATE!”

  Oh God, she was heading for rocks. She’d be slammed against them and hit her head and that would be it. “Left!” I yelled. “Go left!”

  She swam hard left, pushing against the current. She flashed past the rocks with less than a foot to spare. But there were more up ahead—

  The flare went out.

  The cold was unbelievable, soaking into every bone. But that wasn’t what made it difficult to breathe, or what made my hand shake as I fished the last flare from my pocket. It was fear, fear for her. I struck the flare. Hurled it.

  She was past the next set of rocks but...Oh Jesus, she was limp. She was floating like a ragdoll on the surface. She must have hit her head. I watched as her body was carried up against a fallen tree and pinned there by the current. The water pounded against her chest and neck, forcing her down and back. Forcing her under.

  I swam. Harder than I ever swam in our most brutal training. Harder than on any op.

  But I saw her slip beneath the surface.

  And then the final flare went out.

  31

  Boone

  Absolute. Total. Blackness. It was worse because the light from the flares had killed whatever night vision I’d had. I had to go by sound and by feel. I only had seconds to get her back above the surface. It might already be too late.

  I had a mental image of where the fallen tree was and I kicked in that direction for all I was worth. But I had to try to figure out when I was going to hit it. The current was carrying me fast and I was swimming full speed on top of that. If I smacked into the tree and went under, we were both dead.

  Three. Two. One. I put both hands out, feeling for it. Nothing….

  I cried out as something sliced sideways across my palm. A root or a branch. The current had turned me around and I’d almost been carried right past the end of the tree. I grabbed hold of it with both hands and clung there for a second, getting my bearings. Then I started hauling myself along the trunk.

  The water was pounding into my side, neck and head, doing its best to push me under. I could only catch every third or fourth breath. But I kept going until I figured I was where I’d seen her go under.

  I filled my lungs...and dived.

  As soon as I let go of the tree, the current slammed me forward. I felt my way down under the trunk, down into the web of branches that had trapped rocks, mud and anything else that had come down the river. The current pinned me against it—helping me, in a way. The hard part would be getting back out.

  I swam further and further down. My hands felt like solid blocks of ice. There was barely any feeling in my fingers. If I felt her, would I even recognize her?

  More bark. Twigs. Rocks. I felt my fingers touch a solid surface. I’d reached the river bed. Had I missed her? Dived in the wrong place?

  My fingers felt something that might have been the fabric of her suit, flapping i
n the current. I felt for it, but I couldn’t find it again. Shit! Had it just been a leafy branch?

  Then I felt it. Soft and flexible. Knobbly. Silky smooth.

  I’d know that braid anywhere.

  I felt my way to her head, her shoulders. My chest closed up tight. She was as freezing cold as the rocks. Was she already gone?

  Don’t think like that.

  I wound one arm under her arms and pulled her against me. Then I struck for the surface. But now I was trying to haul two of us out against the current, and I could only use one arm. My lungs were aching with the need to breathe. My legs felt like frozen, knotted rubber and every kick sent a new wave of jagged pain through them. We aren’t going to make it. The current was too strong. My muscles were already too cold, too tired. I felt myself starting to slip backward.

  And then her head bobbed back against my shoulder, as if she were looking up at me, that tight little braid tickling my collarbone. The whole of her body was pressed against mine, so small, so fragile, and yet so strong.

  Goddamn it.

  Goddamn it, you are not taking her. Not Kate. And I kicked against the pain, clawing at the water like I was tearing the Grim Reaper’s eyes out. Not her. Not Kate.

  My lungs were bursting. Every muscle in my legs was raw, burning agony.

  Not Kate.

  And I broke the surface. As soon as I stopped and gasped for air, the current slammed me back against the fallen tree, bruising my ribs. But I had her.

  Holding onto her meant I only had one arm to try to haul us up out of the water. I grabbed hold of a branch, realizing too late that I’d used my injured hand. I gritted my teeth and kept going, my biceps straining as I pulled us up the side of the fallen tree and onto the top. Then I picked her up and carried her to the bank.

  But she lay unmoving in my arms, a cold dead weight against my chest. I’d spent enough time in the blackness, now, that my eyes had adjusted again and my stomach lurched when I saw her skin was pure white. No!

  I laid her down in the grass, pried open her mouth and started CPR. But when I pressed down on her chest, it was like practicing on a training dummy, cold and stiff. There was no life left in her. This can’t be her. This couldn’t be Kate, with her stubbornness and her bravery and her fire. With her voice like silk and her judo and her braid. Come on, Kate!

  Her lips were normally a beautiful delicate blush-pink. They’d gone gray-blue.

  I covered them with mine and breathed hot life into her. Saw her chest fill but there was no cough, no heartbeat. I went back to chest compressions, my teeth gritted. This time, I said it aloud. “Come on, Kate!”

  Nothing.

  I let out something like a growl and breathed into her again, all of my rage at the universe going into her. But her limp body just seemed to absorb the heat. The air slowly left her again, as if she couldn’t accept it.

  My eyes were wet. I pumped her chest again, pressing so hard I thought I was going to bust her ribs. “Come on!” I yelled. “Come on!”

  But the darkened forest absorbed my cries and her frozen body absorbed my efforts and she just lay there, unmoving.

  I’d lost her.

  Silent, hot tears were running down my cheeks and falling onto her face.

  I’d lost her.

  I leaned over her and breathed one final time, pressing my lips to hers. I gave her everything I’d been feeling for her: the burning lust and the deep, instinctual need to protect her; the need I had to be with her, the deep yearning I felt whenever I looked at her.

  And her body jerked. A tiny movement. A half-hiccup.

  I pulled back, rubbing at her back, her chest, encouraging the water up. She jerked a second time and I rolled her onto her side and then the water burst from her mouth. She drew in a tortured breath and started coughing.

  “Kate? Kate?!”

  Another labored breath, as if she was inhaling razor blades. She was so cold, inside and out, that when she exhaled there was no cloud of vapor.

  I picked her up and hugged her to my chest. She’d never felt smaller, frailer. But she was alive.

  “Say something,” I whispered. “Say anything.”

  She slowly opened her eyes and rasped. “Hello.”

  I clutched her even tighter, relief flooding my body. But she didn’t warm up, didn’t wake more or become stronger. Her head lolled against me and her limbs were floppy.

  She was too cold. She’d been in the water too long and now she was in soaking, freezing clothes. Her body was losing the battle to warm her.

  I looked around. This close to the raging river, the wood would all be soaked. By the time I got a fire going, she’d be dead.

  No.

  When I got to my feet, my legs almost collapsed under me, the muscles agony from all the swimming. I was exhausted, soaked through and shaking with cold. But my old Navy instructor used to say, “When you think you’re done, that’s only about 40% of what you can do.”

  I wasn’t going to let her die.

  She protested weakly as I lifted her and put her in a fireman’s carry. “Shh,” I told her. “I’m taking you someplace safe.”

  My cabin was two miles away.

  I gritted my teeth and started to run.

  32

  Boone

  I could feel her chest moving against my back. That’s the only way I knew she was alive. She wasn’t warming up. She wasn’t coming back to me.

  I ran faster, lungs bursting, muscles screaming.

  My cabin is high on one side of a valley with a view across to the other side. Getting her up the path that led there damn near killed me. But I finally staggered through the door and laid her gently down on the chair. Then I turned to the stove. I keep it filled with wood and primed, a match laid ready on top. I always knew there might be a time like this. I just figured it would be me who fell into a frozen lake or got caught in a storm.

  I struck the match, slammed the stove door shut and looked down at Kate. Her eyes were closed. She was mumbling but it didn’t make any sense. My chest closed up tight. She was close to slipping into a coma.

  I picked her up and carried her across to the bed. She wasn’t shivering. That was bad. I had to get her clothes off. I sat her up and pulled the suit jacket off her, tossing it aside. Then I started down the remaining buttons of her blouse. The wet fabric parted and I stripped it back off her shoulders. Reached for her bra clasp—

  I swallowed. I knew it was the right thing to do. I knew it was essential I get all the wet cloth off her to stop it soaking up her body heat. But...this was Kate.

  I pushed it out of my mind and took off her bra. Then I lay her back on the bed and pulled off her shoes and pants.

  Her panties.

  I grabbed a towel and started drying her off. She was mumbling again, telling me to let her go to sleep. “No,” I told her sharply. “You have to stay awake.”

  As soon as she was dry, I lay her on a blanket and then wrapped it around her like a cocoon. Then a second blanket. Then I brought the big caribou fur I’d bought from one of the guys in Koyuk and wrapped that around her until she was a thick, furry bundle with just her head sticking out. I picked her up and carried her over to the stove. By now, the logs had caught and it was roaring, sending out waves of heat that filled the tiny cabin. I put Kate down right in front of it. Then I quickly stripped off my clothes, toweled off and pulled on a dry pair of pants. I sat down behind Kate and pulled her back against me, sitting just as we had when we’d looked up at the stars. I hugged her to my chest, wrapped my arms around her and tried to let my warmth flow into her. “Come back to me, Kate,” I whispered in her ear, over and over. “Come back to me.”

  And, slowly, she did.

  Her head kept lolling but I wouldn’t let her fall asleep. When it looked like she was going to drop off, I gently shook her and talked to her. I rubbed at her arms and legs to try to get the blood going. I hugged her tight, enfolding her in my arms and pressing my thighs either side of hers. I stacked the f
ire high and, as soon as she was opening her eyes and talking, I heated up some soup and fed it to her.

  Her skin gradually turned from pure white back to its normal, healthy hue. She started to shiver as her body’s own defenses came back, then stopped again as she got warm. Her breathing became easier.

  “I—” She swallowed. “I think I’m okay.”

  I let out a long sigh and hugged her even tighter, pressing my head against hers and closing my eyes. “Goddamn you. Goddamn you, Kate. You scared me. I thought I’d lost you.”

  I felt her tense under the blankets. What I’d just said sank in. Not just the words but the way I’d said them.

  I moved my head aside and she slowly twisted to look over her shoulder at me. We stared at each other. Those big mahogany eyes were alert, now, searching my face. Her color was back. I could see it in her cheeks. I could see it in her...lips.

  Those lips. Back to their normal blush-pink. So warm. So soft.

  I knew I had to push her away. I knew there was no way it could work. I opened my mouth to say something—

  And then I leaned forward and kissed her. Because the hell with that.

  33

  Kate

  I had time to see it in his eyes. To see that deep Alaskan blue finally lose its battle between fire and ice and blaze with raw, scorching heat. Then I was closing my eyes as his lips met mine.

  And oh...my...God. It was a kiss the way a mountain is a lump of rock. It was as unlike a polite New York kiss as a dip in a freezing lake is unlike a bath.

  This was the way people kissed a thousand years ago. This was man kissing woman. Claiming her. Owning her. His lips pressed mine, twisted and—opened. I felt the movement right down to my groin, going weak under him. He was moving, rough and savage and hot, his breath joining mine. I felt hands on my waist, twisting me around to face him, tipping me and my bundle of blankets back towards the floor.