Dane's Storm(69)

Hey Theo, little man. If you can hear me, help me out here, buddy.

With that whispered prayer, I’d climbed into the plane, wrenched that fucker loose with the last of my strength, the plane beginning its icy slide just as I’d tossed it out the back. The tree shrieked as it cracked in two, and I hurled myself out just as the whole thing turned ninety degrees and slid over the edge. It had all happened in less than three minutes. But I’d been successful. I’d been terrified, but I’d fucking done it.

And now I needed to get us out of here, because I needed to get to a doctor, and soon.

“Look at that,” Audra said, breaking into my thoughts. I laid down the strip I’d just cut from the cloth, grateful for the break. Looking in the direction she was facing, I saw that the spaces between the trees was vibrant red, orange, and mauve.

Audra stood. “Let’s go watch it.”

I took her hand and followed her out of the break in the trees. Thankfully, there hadn’t been any significant snowfall in the last couple of days and it made walking around on this mountain a lot easier.

My head swam. I felt so hot I was tempted to strip off my jacket and the shirt wrapped around my neck. I was also shivering. We both stopped and stood staring at the sky, the heavens burning in a fiery glow of color. It was the most magnificent thing I’d ever seen. I sat on a rock and gestured for Audra to sit on my good thigh. She did, frowning when she got close, putting her hand to my forehead, her face contorting in worry. “Dane, you’re so hot.”

“You don’t have to use lines with me, baby. I told you I’m already—”

“Shut up.” She smacked my arm. “No, really, you’re burning up.”

“I know.” I cleared my throat, pulling the shirt she had tied around her head more tightly under her chin, making her smile. “I need to talk to you about something.”

A cloud of worry darkened her expression. “Okay.”

I pulled her closer, wanting to rest my head on her chest, just to close my eyes and breathe her in for a while, but I didn’t dare. I was so damned tired and if I closed my eyes now, I’d give in to the fever’s pull of sleep, even sitting upright on a rock on a freezing cold night. “My fever’s getting worse. It might get better but . . . it might not. And if it doesn’t, it probably means I have an infection in my blood that’s not clearing up on its own.”

Audra’s eyes filled with shocked pain. “This is my fault. I didn’t do the stitches right. I—”

I put a finger to her lips, stopping her words. “No, this is not your fault. Not even a little. And I don’t want to scare you, but you need to know this, and you need to promise me that once we get down that cliff, if I get worse, if I can’t continue on with you, that you’ll leave me behind.”

Her face contorted into such a mask of horror that I clenched my eyes shut, hating that I was putting her through this. Hating my body for not healing itself faster, feeling shame and anger at not being able to fix this. “No,” she hissed. “Never.”

“Audra, listen to me, I’m not telling you to leave me to die. But if I become so sick that I can’t even walk, you have to be prepared to leave me in a shelter and continue on for help. You’ll have to do that, sweetheart, because I will not let you sacrifice yourself for me. Promise me that.”

She was shaking her head vigorously. “It won’t come to that, Dane. It won’t. We’ll get down that cliff and then we’ll make the journey together. It will get warmer the lower we go, easier to walk, and your fever will start subsiding. It will.”

“Maybe. I hope. But if not, promise me you’ll go on.”

She put a hand on my face, her eyes filling with tears. “I won’t leave you behind again, Dane. I . . . I can’t.”

I smiled weakly. “You won’t be leaving me behind. You’ll be strong if I can’t be. And if I get better and you fall behind, then I’ll be the one to carry you. Promise me, Audra.”

She sniffled, her face crumpling. “I promise.”

I let out a relieved exhale. “Thank you.”

Audra put her forehead against mine. “What would your grandmother say if she could see us now?” she whispered, her lips tipping in a wry smile. “All her evil plans and she only managed to bring us back together.”

I chuckled. “Good old Bea. I guess we should thank her.”

Audra leaned back, blinking at me. “Bea?”

“Oh, it’s an old nickname. Her brothers, Bryson, Brett, and Baron, started calling her that when she was a little girl because she was the only one without a name that started with B. They figured she should be a B too, so they took to calling her Bea. It stuck. She gets angry if anyone calls her that now.”

She was still blinking at me, her head tilted slightly. “I . . . see.”

“I swear we talked about all the B names in my family when we were picking out Theo’s name. My dad decided to continue the tradition with my brother and sister and me, just using a different letter.”

She glanced behind me for a moment, a look of pain skating over her expression. I knew why. We’d picked Theo’s name after we’d found out we were having a boy, and after we’d found out he wouldn’t survive much past birth, if he survived at all. We’d chosen his name together, and only months later, we’d had it etched on his headstone. With the memory, grief punched at my insides. “Maybe,” Audra murmured. “I don’t really remember.” I squeezed her hand and she smiled sadly at me, understanding flowing between us without either of us having to say a word.