Dane's Storm(70)

After a moment, she looked down as if in thought and murmured, “Bea . . .” She shook her head slightly as if rejecting an idea. I started to ask her what she was thinking about, but she adjusted herself on my knee, and even though she was on my non-injured leg, she bumped my other knee and it caused a spear of pain to stab into my thigh. I let out a small grunt of pain, pulling my knee away.

Audra’s gaze shot to mine. “You okay?”

“Yeah. The skin around my stitches just pulled a little. I’m fine.”

She nodded, but I could see the worry in her eyes. She put her forehead back on mine, and then stroked my hair and kissed my cheekbones. For several minutes we sat that way, foreheads pressed together, hands intertwined between our bodies as the dying sun illuminated the sky, reflecting off the ice in a dazzling show of sparkling color.

“What can I do right now to make you feel better?” Audra asked, placing her palm on my grizzled jaw.

I nuzzled her nose. My head was aching, my muscles were tight, and I felt so weak I feared I’d topple right over, but I forced a smile. “Show me how you used to dance with the butterflies.”

She laughed, a surprised sound. “What?”

I nodded behind her to the snow where prisms of light moved in the air, a gift from the heavens. “Can’t you see the butterflies?”

She laughed again, but then her face sobered. “Are you having delusions?”

I laughed. “No, just imagining. But it’s easy to do. Can’t you see them?” Again, I gestured my head behind her.

She glanced back, pausing, and then turning back to me, a smile, filled with wonder adorning her pretty face.

“You’re right. I do see them.”

“So dance, Audra.”

She gave me a shy glance, but smiled, standing and offering a curtsy. She put her arms in the air like a ballerina and twirled gracefully in the snow, spinning again and laughing as she raised her face to the sky. I laughed too, the joy of the moment feeling suddenly more powerful than the fever, the hopelessness of our situation, the uncertainty of tomorrow. For a brief blink of time, it was just Audra, the woman I loved with every piece of my heart, dancing in front of me with a kaleidoscope of translucent butterflies glinting in the air around her.

She turned, grinning as she held her hand out to me and I stood, answering her call, walking to her and taking her in my arms. We danced slowly together as the sun lowered behind the mountains, taking the butterflies with it. But we still remained, holding each other, heartbeat to heartbeat, as the sky grew dim.

**********

That night I dreamed. Misty visions of Audra reaching for me as I tried desperately to grasp her arm, the distance between us expanding no matter how fast I ran. I woke up gasping, my throat burning, my head cradled in Audra’s lap. She was dribbling water into my mouth and I swallowed greedily, reaching for the bottle of water so I could drink it in large gulps. I was so thirsty, so hot, it felt like my head was on fire and every muscle in my body ached.

But Audra pulled the water back, hushing me. Her words drifted to me—muted and strange—as if I were underwater and she was above. “Don’t leave me, Dane,” I thought she said. I won’t, I wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t form. Sleep pulled me back under.

I woke drenched in sweat, grimacing at the dim shafts of light through the sides of our woven door. I cried out as I sat up, pulling myself out through the door and into the light of day. What time was it? How long had I slept?

I squinted up at the light-dappled ceiling of pine branches, not able to see enough of the sun from here to guess at the time of day. God, I felt like fucking hell.

Audra was probably using the bathroom. At that thought, I wove my way over to the nearest tree, holding on to it for support as I pissed. Not much, though, and I hadn’t gone since yesterday, early evening. That couldn’t be a good sign, could it? What was happening with my body?

I zipped my pants, spotting the bottles of water sitting next to a rock and making my way toward them. As I drank, I glanced at the fire, still burning. Shame filled me when I realized Audra had to have gotten up all night to feed it. Goddamn it! It filled me with impotent fury to know that I hadn’t been able to perform that small task for her the night before. I set the water back down and then picked up a pinecone, hurling it toward the trees, the movement causing me so much agonizing muscle pain that I sat on the rock on an exhale of curses, breathing heavily. My head throbbed as the forest radiated around me and I clenched my eyes closed, holding my scalp in my hands.

That’s when I heard her scream. It rang through the forest, through the canyons, echoing off the rock. I jolted, jumping to my feet and staggering as I took three steps forward, looking around wildly. “Audra!” I called, racing in the direction her scream had come from, not out into the wide-open space, but back, through the trees, into the forest.

As I passed the back of our shelter, the silver glint of metal caught my eye and I grabbed the piece of edging I’d used as a walking stick what seemed like so long ago.

I wove through the forest, dodging trees, moving faster than my body wanted to manage, single-mindedly trying to get to Audra. I gripped the piece of metal in my hand, a weapon, though I had no idea what had caused that terrifying, blood-curdling scream. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, in my head, a raucous percussion of pain and dread. Where is she? Where is she?

“Audra!” I called again. No answer. I heard them before I saw them, a low growl of animal aggression. Breathing harshly, my muscles screaming and my head throbbing, I stepped through a gap in the trees, my stomach lurching in horror to see Audra standing near the edge of a cliff as two wolves stalked toward her, their heads low, their teeth bared as low, twin growls shattered the quiet of the forest.