Hidden Realms

by Dean Murray

  He scooted closer to me, opened his sleeping bag wide, and looked at me expectantly, as if he were waiting for me to crawl in there with him. Afraid of getting it wrong and embarrassing myself again, I hesitated.

  “Do you want to get warm, or not?” He held the sleeping bag open and waited. It seemed like a clear-cut invitation to me.

  I eyed him warily. The idea was enticing. A little too intimate, perhaps, considering we could barely stand each other. But in extreme situations, one would do whatever they had to do for survival. Or, at least, to save their toes from needing to be amputated later. In my case, that included cuddling with Nathan.

  I had hesitated long enough. My zipper was still undone, and I was getting colder by the second. With a sigh of relief, and somewhat grudgingly, I slid into his sleeping bag.

  His alone was not big enough for both of us. He pulled the opened ends of our respective bags together to wrap both of us up in one big cocoon. Tucking mine snuggly around my backside, he ensured that no cold air could seep in then, in a move that caught my breath in my throat, slipped his arm inside and wrapped it around my waist to pull me against him.

  My face buried in his chest and our bodies connected in a few strategic places in a way that brought a flush to my skin. Regardless of the unwanted intimacy we were forced into, it wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be. Either that or I was just that cold.

  It actually felt good. He was warm. Really warm. His hand moved briskly over my back, and I didn’t know if it was heat from the friction or from his touch alone that seared through my shirt. Either way, I welcomed it and, after a few moments, my body started to relax, my teeth stopped chattering, and my breathing steadied.

  “Better?” With the top of my head resting beneath his chin, his breath tickled my ear. The shiver that racked my body this time was not the cold-induced kind. Nor was it the bad kind.

  “Much better. Thank you,” I mumbled into his shirt, grateful I had that to hide in as I tried to convince myself it wasn’t a good kind of shiver either.

  Bad shivers versus good shivers aside, I was warm and not about to move anytime soon. The cold hovered over us, waiting to get me if I drifted too far away from the shelter of Nathan’s body. I was staying right where I was, and he would have to deal with it. Funny thing was he didn’t seem to mind.

  Maybe he realized I would need my toes to keep up with him tomorrow.

  Or maybe he wasn’t as bad as I thought?

  And maybe I didn’t really want to move anyway. As I drifted off to sleep, I was only semi-aware of Nathan’s hand rubbing my back, slower and more as a soothing gesture than a warming one, and the last thing I thought before I found sleep was how nice it felt.

  A furtive shuffling woke me up. When I opened my eyes, I saw light shining through the tent, and Nathan trying to squirm out from under me. For a moment, I was horrified to realize we had cuddled together all night, and he had woken with my head on his chest. Then the amusement of watching him trying to wiggle away without waking me outweighed the awkwardness, and I got over it.

  He pulled off a fairly decent job, and didn’t realize I was awake until he finally managed to get free and sat up. When he glanced down at me, I flashed him an over-the-top smile.

  He shook his head as he got to his knees. “If you’re up, let’s go,” he said before he climbed outside.

  “Somebody’s grouchy this morning,” I muttered.

  He jerked the tent flap back. “Yes,” he grumbled. “Come on, get up.”

  He was waiting, impatiently, by the time I crawled outside. He started to roll up the sleeping bags and dismantle the tent as I went in search of a tree. By the time I rejoined him, he had the bag over his shoulder, waiting. I blushed as I sauntered back.

  “Ready when you are,” I said, trying to sound like I didn’t care that he knew what I had been doing.

  He wasted no time in taking off. I fell into step behind him.

  “So, where to today? A particular patch of bare trees to the west? An especially high peak perhaps? Maybe one with some snow? I could use a little change in scenery.”

  “If you stop complaining and keep up, we might reach our destination today,” he said.

  “Wait, what?” I faltered briefly. “You mean we’re not aimlessly wandering? We’ve actually been going somewhere?”

  “Yeah,” he said like he clearly thought I was an idiot for not already knowing that.

  I cleared my throat. “So, where are we going?”

  “I know of a cabin.”

  “Whoa, wait,” I called as I trotted to catch up to him. “Are you saying there’s a chance I might get to sleep in something other than that crappy tent tonight?”

  “If you can keep up,” he said. There was a challenge in his voice.

  Suddenly, I had a burst of energy. No more walking? No more sleeping on the ground? No more cuddling with Nathan for warmth? No more peeing behind a tree?

  I had found my motivation, and it was a wonderful thing.

  CHAPTER 10

  As the sun started to set and we approached the point in the evening in which we would usually stop to make camp, I started to lose hope. Then, miraculously, we made it.

  I crouched beside Nathan and peered down the scarily steep slope we were perched atop. It took me a while to spot it nestled amongst the trees, but far—really far—below us was a barely visible tiny cabin. There were no other signs of civilization for as far as I could see. From up that high, that was far. We had a bit of a hike ahead of us to get to it. I was eager to get started, but Nathan was cautious as always as he scanned the cabin and the ridge that surrounded it.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked.

  “This cabin has been used as a safe house for years, but it’s been a while since I’ve been here. I don’t know if it’s still safe or not.”

  “How will you know?” I looked longingly at the cabin, with its four walls and hard roof. I would bet there was a bed, or a cot, or something to sleep on, and if I were lucky, maybe even running water. Whatever it took for me to get those luxuries, I was willing to do it.

  Nathan looked at me, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he stood and, without another word, started down the slope. I hated it when he did that. He hadn’t indicated one way or the other, but in this case, I assumed I was supposed to follow.

  About thirty seconds into the descent, I determined he probably had not intended for me to follow. There had to be an easier way to get off this thing, but no, he chose the neck-breaking route. We slid down the steep slope on an unstable mixture of loose rock and frozen earth. I lost count of how many times Nathan had to grab my arm to keep me from plummeting face first to the bottom. It took an eternity for the ground to level out to something a little less lethal and, when it did, I allowed myself a moment of gratification when I looked back at what I had accomplished.

  As proud as I was, I was more excited to see the small oval field that welcomed us at the base. Nathan stopped just outside the perimeter so that we remained hidden in the trees. The cabin was nestled along the tree line on the opposite side of the clearing, fifty impossibly long yards away.

  “You stay here,” he said to me. “I want to check it out first.”

  He stayed in the cover of the trees as he wrapped around the edge of the clearing, flanking the cabin from the left. I watched until he disappeared from sight. The sun had set while descended the mountain, and the darkness came in fast, limiting my vision.

  Again, my eyes and ears played tricks on me as I waited. In an attempt to block out the ominous shadows that had crept in, and now surrounded me, I studied the cabin.

  It looked cute, and cozy, and smaller than I had initially thought. As far as I could tell, it was vacant. Broken limbs littered the front porch. One window was visible on the front wall. A curtain blocked any view of the inside, but there didn’t appear to be any lights on.

  As the darkness deepened, the cabin blended into the night.

  Where was
Nathan? I hated being out there, alone in the dark. At least, when he was around, I felt safe. I nibbled on my lip as I looked around nervously, contemplating my next move. There really didn’t appear to be anyone else there. The dark and scary woods felt more threatening than the enticing cabin, even with its questionable safety status.

  I made up my mind, and started in the direction Nathan had gone, making sure to stay in the cover of the trees as he had. I made an effort to keep close to the edge of the clearing so that I didn’t venture too deep into the woods. Even so, after a few moments, it got harder to make out where the trees ended and the clearing began. I looked up, wishing for the help of the moon. No such luck tonight. Overcast skies blinded me. I edged closer—or so I thought—to the clearing and tried to spot the cabin. My stomach dropped when I realized I had completely lost sight of it.

  “Oh, great.” I had wandered a good distance from where Nathan had left me. I hoped he could find me—and he wouldn’t be too mad when he did.

  Fast and heavy footsteps crashed through the woods toward me. I fought the urge to run as I tried in vain to see who it was. A small part of me dreaded it being Nathan.

  “Do you ever listen?” I heard him bark before I saw him.

  “What took you so long?” I snapped, but cowered inwardly under the scowl I could now see on his face.

  He sighed and turned away from me. “Come on,” he called over his shoulder.

  I followed him across the clearing, in the direction of the cabin that I could now see again. I hadn’t wandered that far.

  “It’s safe then?” I asked as if my little side adventure was no big deal.

  “Yeah, lucky for you.” He stopped outside what looked to be a shed, retrieved a shiny gold key from under a small boulder against the wall, and proceeded up the front steps to let us into the cabin.

  Aside from the fact that there was only one twin-sized bed, it was perfect.

  It was one open room: the bed against the wall to the right; a fireplace, a couch, and a chair in the far right corner; a kitchen to the left, complete with a sink, microwave, and mini-fridge. There was a closed door to a small rectangular-shaped room in the center that I hoped was a bathroom. There was an open porch on the front and an enclosed porch on the back, accessed through a sliding glass door that took up nearly the entire back wall.

  Nathan found a stack of firewood out back, and set to starting a fire right away. The only light came from a small bulb over the sink in the kitchen, and it did little despite the small space. The fire would help light as well as heat the room.

  While he was busy with that, I checked the mystery door, and was happy to find a full bathroom. My prayers were answered when the toilet flushed with an emphatic whoosh. I didn’t hesitate when, after I told him the good news, Nathan suggested that I take advantage of the running water.

  I was long overdue for a shower and was horrified when I saw the color of the water pooled at my feet. I only had one hard and wrinkly bar of soap that was probably as old as the cabin itself to work with, but I didn’t care, so long as it got me clean. I even used it to wash my hair, since I hadn’t packed shampoo. So much for the complimentary mini-shampoos I had been counting on. Despite the lack of adequate supplies, I had never been more grateful for a hot shower. I could have stayed in there all night, but cut it short for Nathan’s sake. I doubted he would appreciate having to take a cold shower.

  At least I was clean again. It didn’t dawn on me that I had not bothered to bring along a change of clean clothes until after I stepped out of the shower, wet and cold. I wasn’t about to put on the filthy clothes I had worn all day. Not even for a minute. I was pretty sure I didn’t have anything clean left in my bag either.

  I found the towels under the sink, and wrapped up in one as I debated what to do. I really didn’t want to wear any of my smelly grimy stuff after I was clean for the first time in three days, and waltzing out there in nothing but a towel wasn’t an option I was willing to consider.

  Hating what I had to do, I cracked the bathroom door open. “Hey, Nathan?”

  He looked up from where he was stooped, next to the fire. “Yeah?”

  “Um, you wouldn’t happen to have any clean clothes I could borrow, would you?”

  He stood and observed the towel I was wearing through the gap in the door. His brief gaze made my cheeks burn even more than they already were, and I was relieved when he looked away. “All my clothes are dirty,” he said, “but I think I can find something wearable around here for you.” He shifted, looking every bit as uncomfortable as I felt, and started to rummage through a small chest beside the bed. He pulled out a few pieces of clothing and held them up as he turned to me.

  “Those will work,” I said, and he passed them to me through the gap. I managed a smile as I thanked him, and then retreated into the bathroom to change.

  The white shirt was Nathan-sized. The short sleeves hung past my elbows and the hem fell to mid-thigh. The soft grey track pants covered my feet, and I had to roll them up to keep from tripping over them. I pulled the string in the waist as tight as I could so that they wouldn’t fall down. Remembering the streak of embarrassing moments I was racking up, I secured them with a double knot. Even after I made the alterations, I looked ridiculous in the big clothes. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like Nathan would care what I looked like.

  I found him going through the chest, pulling out clothes for himself. He looked up when I came out of the bathroom, and grimaced apologetically. “They’re a little big on you, huh?”

  “Yeah, but they’re clean.” I shrugged as I made my way to the couch. It felt good to sit on something soft again. I sunk in, getting comfy, as I enjoyed the warmth of the fire.

  Nathan headed to the bathroom with his change of clothes. He stopped in the doorway, and turned to me. “If you’re interested, I found a few packets of hot chocolate that weren’t too old, and boiled some water.”

  Hot chocolate? After three days of climbing a mountain in the bitter cold and rain? That sounded…great, actually. I smiled. “Thanks.”

  He closed the door with a nod. A minute later, the shower started up.

  I found the packets and hot water in the kitchen. I didn’t see any signs that he had already made one for himself. After I spent way too much time deliberating, I made two cups. He had been tolerable lately. It wouldn’t kill me to be nice.

  I returned to the sitting area with both cups, set his on the end table, and curled up on the couch with mine. If only for a moment, it was almost possible to imagine myself on a weekend getaway in a relaxing cabin. If I tried really hard, I might have forgotten that I was literally running for my life, and stuck in the middle of nowhere with a companion that had to have been a drill sergeant in another life.

  Okay, okay, it wasn’t that bad. True, I was on the run and didn’t know why, but I supposed Nathan hadn’t been that terrible lately. Sure, he was bossy and yelled at me, but I had also started to pick up on traces of humor in his eyes when he did. The barking out orders and talking down to me like I was a hapless kid, that had been his only method of communication for a while, had diminished. A lot. We were far from friends, but I didn’t hate him anymore.

  Honestly, I preferred if he was an unbearable ass. Then it would have been easier to ignore how insanely gorgeous he was and that, especially after last night, was becoming increasingly impossible to overlook. My skin came to life with goose-bumps at the memory of last night—the feel of our bodies pressed together, his breath in my ear, and his hand on my back as I fell asleep.

  I took a sip of hot chocolate to get rid of the silly smile on my lips. When I realized what I was doing, body-wide tingling gave way to fire hot cheeks. What was wrong with me? I’d had an innocent crush on him when I was a kid, but had gotten over that a long time ago. I couldn’t start crushing on him again because of something that had been completely functional, not sweet or romantic at all. He most certainly was not daydreaming about it.

  The bathroo
m door jerked open and I jumped, nearly spilling my hot chocolate. I glanced up as Nathan walked by, his towel draped over his shoulder as he brushed it through his hair. The end result was the sexiest head of messy damp hair I had ever seen. I tried to peel my gaze away before he caught me staring again, but I couldn’t do it.

  In the soft glow of the fire, his tousled hair looked more a shade of dark blond, his eyes sparkled bluer than ever, and even with the five o’clock shadow darkening his face, he looked rejuvenated. He wore simple black track pants and a white t-shirt with Greek lettering on the front, but he wore them well. The way the shirt was fitted to his chest and shoulders did crazy things to my imagination. I envisioned nothing less than the sculpted muscles of a Greek god hidden under that shirt.

  He redefined the meaning of hot. He was spill my hot chocolate all over myself and barely notice that I had third degree burns hot.

  I finally remembered how to breathe, but it took me a moment to realize he was looking at me. It took me even longer to realize he had asked me a question and was waiting for a response.

  I cleared my throat. “What?”

  He waved around the pack of crackers he held extended to me. “I asked if you wanted some. This is the last of them.”

  “Sure.” I took a peanut butter cracker, and gestured casually to the hot chocolate on the table. “That one is for you, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” He claimed his cup and sat on the chair adjacent to the couch.

  At least he seemed oblivious to the thoughts that had been in my head a minute ago. I watched him out the corner of my eye for a moment longer, just to be sure he wasn’t holding back a knowing laugh, before I sat back to enjoy my cracker and hot chocolate. A comfortable silence settled around us, interrupted only by the crackling of the fire that did a good job of lulling me to sleep.

  “I’m tired,” I said at last.

  He yawned in agreement. Recalling the limited sleeping arrangements, I shifted anxiously in my seat.