Dane's Storm(53)

Stop it, Dane. Jesus.

If it didn’t work, it didn’t work. But fuck it all, it was still worth a try.

Audra returned with an armful of debris, which I told her to drop in the circle of rocks, then we both went back out for another load.

Once we’d both returned from a second trip, Audra went inside our shelter and gathered the pine needles on the ground. Then I reached inside my jacket and took the People magazine out, ripping out several pages.

“Ah,” I heard Audra say as if she’d just realized why I’d grabbed the magazine.

I slanted a smile at her as I rolled the pieces and tied them in knots, the way my granddad had always done when he’d built a fire in the fireplace on one of the outdoor entertaining areas on our property. “Will you get your cell phone and take the battery out? And I’ll need those little scissors you mentioned using when you stitched me up.”

Audra looked slightly confused but did as I asked, then I took the remaining chocolate from my pocket, including the two wrappers, and started unwrapping the ones still in foil.

“The idea,” I said, as I handed Audra the three pieces of chocolate to put with the rest of our food stash, “is to use the foil as a conductor on the battery to create a tiny fire, maybe only a spark, I’m not sure. But if it works, we’ll need to quickly transfer it to the paper and pine needles and stoke the hell out of that bitch until there’s enough fire to start adding branches.

She looked at me. “How do you know this will work?”

“I don’t. But working in robotics, I know at least a little bit about batteries. I’m not positive it will work, but in theory, it could.”

She nodded sharply and breathed out, “Okay,” as if she was trying not to hope too hard. But I saw the flash of excitement in her eyes and for a minute it scared me so much I wanted to give up before I’d started. The thought of failing her terrified me.

Taking a calming breath, I began cutting one of the pieces of foil at the very edge, just coming up short at the end and then going in the other direction so that when I was done, it was one long, thin continuous piece. Making sure I had two ends, I then crumpled the middle section so the fire—if one ignited—would have something to hold on to for a desperate minute. Just long enough to transfer it to our firepit. I’d gone through the process in my head as I’d lain in the dark with Audra the night before, making a plan to warm her as she’d shivered in my arms.

Please, please, please let this work.

“Okay, get ready. If this ignites, I’m going to slowly move it over the pine needles and I need you to be leaning forward over it, ready to blow softly to get it going.”

She nodded quickly, leaning over slightly, tightening the shirt over her head that was tied at the nape of her neck, holding her hair away from her face. Her eyes focused intently on the battery where I had it on the cell phone cover. Carefully, so carefully, I lined up the ends of the foil to the positive and negative terminals on the battery, casting one last breathless glance at Audra before touching them to the tiny copper pieces and using the scissors to hold each side steady.

For a moment nothing happened, and all was quiet except my own heart beating loudly in my ears. And then a tiny wisp of smoke rose, so suddenly, I almost startled. I held the scissors steady so the current passed through the foil, heating it until it finally burst into a small flame. My pulse skyrocketed, but my hands remained steady as I slowly brought the tiny piece of burning foil to the top of the pine needles, just under one of the knotted pages of the magazine, holding my breath, half expecting it to extinguish before my hands had even made the short journey.

Audra was ready just as I placed it on the pile of debris and she blew on it softly, as the top pine needles began smoking as well, the tiny flame growing, my heart lurching with wild joy.

The small flame spread, gaining strength, growing, growing, until Audra looked up, her lips trembling ever so slightly, her eyes wide and shimmering with happy tears. I laughed out loud and though she kept blowing at the blossoming fire, her lips tipped into a tremulous smile between small puffs.

I reached for the smallest branches and when the fire seemed big enough, I added the first one, waiting as the flame began devouring it, becoming bigger, hungrier. A beautiful, glowing beast.

Audra was laughing now as I added one branch after another. Then we both stood slowly, marveling at it. For a second we just looked at each other across the small miracle we’d just created together, grinning like fools, and then she threw herself into my arms. As I caught her, I laughed out loud, spinning her in a half circle and then placing her back on her feet.

Tears streaked down her face, but she was smiling. I caught one glistening drop on my thumb. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we, honey? You and me.”

The moment swelled, making the air feel full, and my chest feel tight. But Audra laughed again, sniffling and nodding, something seeming to break gently in her expression, in contrast to the way she’d been holding herself so stiffly. For just a moment, she allowed herself to sag in my arms so I was holding her up.

“Yeah. Yeah we do,” she said. “You and me. I’m so glad you’re here, Dane.” She shook her head, her eyes a little wild, her hands gripping my biceps as if the small bit of hope she’d allowed herself had broken through something—some wall perhaps. And now her emotions were bleeding out of her.