A low, savage growl rumbles from the shrubs.
She's hoping it's a dog. She's hoping that someone's dog was mischievous enough to break loose from its leash and pretty soon, it will jump out of those bushes and lick her face affectionately. And then the owner will walk through the bushes whistling for him. And they'll miraculously have a satellite phone that they can use to call for help. It has to be a dog.
As she watches, another growl ripples through the bushes.
Her body locks when she sees a pair of eyes peering at her, large, greenish-yellow globes looking straight at her.
Wolf. Bear. Jackal. Mountain lion. A beast.
She shrinks back with a cry when a grey and white paw steps out of the bushes.
Is it laughing? Is it smiling? Is it snickering? Is it licking its lips, imagining how crunchy her bones will be? Does it have a thorn in its paw that needs attending? Will it leave her alone if she removes it? Or is this how it ends? Mauled and ripped to shreds by a beast?
Through her silent thoughts, she becomes aware of more sounds coming from the bushes to her right.
Slowly, she turns to look towards the trees, her eyes fixated on the larger bushes. It's a pack of wolves.
A blood-chilling shiver goes through her, her eyes darting right and left, her hands curling into fists, mud squelching between her fingers.
Deathly still, heart pounding a mile a minute, she shuts her eyes tightly, wondering what body part she'll lose first when the wolves attack her.
"Miss?"
Do monsters talk?
Heavy footsteps follow.
"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" the beast asks in a low voice.
She opens her eyes slowly.
That looks like a human being. A Park Ranger.
And then another. And another.
A violin concerto plays around her. Where's the music coming from?
She exhales loudly, her whole body quaking with immeasurable elation and relief.
Her eyes then dart quickly to the left. No growling, no paw.
A few more minutes and she would be dead.
She's so relieved and defeated that she dissolves into soul-cleansing sobs.
They came in the nick of time. It's going to be okay.
The ranger takes long strides towards the crying girl, crouching down to examine her.
"Miss, are you alone?"
She shakes her head.
"M-my husband," she stammers.
"Where is he?"
She lifts a muddy, shaky hand upwards. "He's hurt."
One of the other rangers starts the ascent. She struggles to get up.
"Wait for me," she cries out.
She's trembling, still in tremendous shock from having a near-death experience and the surge of adrenaline after seeing the park rangers.
"Miss, you're hurt."
"I'm fine," she says defiantly through her tears. "I'm not leaving him."
She shrugs his arm off and starts up the trail. When she looks back, sure enough, they are following her.
Knowing that Nathan is going to get help gives her the strength to go up the mountain. She doesn't have the time to care about silly little abrasions. She dips into that strength, following the trail until she spots the branches she'd piled together to show her where he was. The storm didn't carry them away.
Pushing them aside, she stumbles when she sees how pale and motionless he is. His hair is wet, his face is grey and his lips are blue.
Partly blinded by tears, she crawls to him, sinking to her knees and lifting his head to her lap.
"What happened to him?" the ranger asks.
"He fell. There was a rock…"
She sniffles and wipes at her cheeks. Lifting the wet clothes and blanket, she points to the dressing; it's pale pink, a mixture of blood and water.
"Nathan…baby, we'll be fine. You'll be okay. They found us…"
Her frizzing hair forms a curtain around them as she leans over to kiss his lips. Ice-cold.
She hovers her lips over his, kissing him again. Can he feel it?
She stays quiet as the ranger checks Nathan out. He's not moving an inch, his face an alarming shade of grey and his breathing so faint that she can hardly hear it.
A hand on her arm brings reality back into focus.
"We can't carry him down. I'll call for assistance," the ranger says as he takes out a walkie-talkie to radio for help.
"Phoenix, this is Deco. I have a MedEvac request, over."
"This is Phoenix, send, over."
She doesn't understand a thing the ranger is saying but it doesn't matter; they're here to help.
"This is Phoenix, solid copy. Stand-by for inbound MedEvac plan, over."
"Deco standing-by, over."
The crackling stops and the ranger turns to her. "They're sending a chopper. We need to find someplace else for it to land."
She nods, feeling sheer joy, and fear for Nathan. Are they too late?
"We'll carry your husband. Do you need assistance?"
"No. I can walk."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. We'll get there faster."
He nods, motioning to the other rangers.
"We'll have to head upwards. There's a larger clearing just around the curve," he continues.
Haley grabs their things as the rangers work together to lay Nathan out on a stretcher and wrap an aluminized blanket around him.
Time is of the essence as they make their way through the trees.
Refusing to be assisted, she walks beside the stretcher, her numb hand holding Nathan's equally cold one. She keeps rubbing her thumb along his hand, hoping that the movement will wake him, even for a few seconds. She needs to know that he's going to be alright.
Ducking through the forest, the sun's rays slanting through the trees, the air a mawkish mixture of rain-soaked earth and moisture.
Haley asks the ranger how they found them.
Their permit had not been checked out, he says. And the car in the parking lot was another sign. Campers used the north entrance, not the south.
In the daylight, traipsing through the forest isn't as foreboding as it was last night. They would have found their way back to the right trail if it hadn't been so dark.
"Okay. Put him down."
They lay down the stretcher, and she sits back on her legs beside him. She looks longingly at him, rubbing his hand in both of hers, trying to bring him back to the present.
The sound of the approaching helicopter can be heard from a distance. She laughs through her tears.
"Hear that, baby? Help is here."
Ignoring the pain in her body, she talks to him quietly as the helicopter comes closer.
We have our three-month anniversary coming up.
Who's going to help me with my gym class?
Everyone will be very angry if you decide to follow the light.
What about the mimosas in Miami?
We made it. Now wake up.
The rangers just watch as the girl coaxes her husband to wake up. They applaud her silently for having the guts to leave him behind to get help. Another few hours and he would have died.
The helicopter swoops low to land, its blades stirring up the vegetation and swaying the trees around them.
They strap Nathan to the helicopter's stretcher, and Haley gives him a kiss before she lies down on the other stretcher. Even with the oxygen mask over her face, her heart feels constricted.
She reaches her hand out to clasp his as the chopper lifts off the ground to fly them away from the wilderness, their hands holding in the space between them as they are airlifted home.
Her body is sore something fierce.
She groans as she stretches out on the bed, her joints cracking with the movement.
Hissing, she opens her eyes slowly. Seeing the plain white ceiling makes her sigh in gratitude.
Anything is better than having to look at another tree. God help her but the next time she's taking a walk in any forested area is a long time coming. That includes the woods at the edge of the park.
She smacks her lips together, thick-tongued, her throat dry as a bone. She turns her head slowly, a water jug and a cup coming into view.
As she slides up the bed inch by inch, she winces softly as her body screams in protest at the movements.
It takes five cups to satiate her thirst.
When she looks out the window, it's nighttime.
She needs to find him. She needs to know if he's okay.
She swings her feet over the bed and onto the tiled floor, a quick jolt going through her body at the coldness of it. Her feet are wrapped in bandages, hiding the torn, raw naked blisters from view. There's no pain, just plenty of soreness.
The source of why her hand is on fire is connected to an IV bag over her head. She's ready to rip it off when a rasping voice resonates through the room.
"What do you think you're doing?"
She turns her head sharply to the doorway, scrambling to form a reply to the question.
"My…my husband. Where is he? I'd like to see him."
The pepper-haired, rosy-cheeked nurse shakes her head as she approaches the bed.
"He's down the hall."
"How—"
"He's fine," she finishes as she reaches for Haley's hand.
"Please take me to him."
The nurse shakes her head again. "You're on a drip."
"I need to see him."
The nurse narrows her eyes at the young girl, seeing the defiance written all over her face.
"You're on a drip, young lady. And on bed rest. You have cuts and grazes all over you, including that deep cut on your hand. You can see him when you're rested—"
"That's not good enough. I want to see him now. I'll drag this…thing if I have to but I want to see my husband. I need to see him. This has been the worst time of my life and I'm not staying away from him for a second longer just because of a silly needle. You can either take me to him or when you're gone, I'll find my way to him myself."
The nurse purses her lips together, admiring the girl's gumption. She hasn't asked about herself but she wants to see her husband.
Oh, to be young and in love. Hopefully, they won't be divorced in a year.
"Can you tell me what's wrong with him?" Haley asks timidly as the nurse wheels her down the hallway.
"The doctor would be the—"
"Please," she begs.
"They had to perform surgery," the nurse finally says. "His lung had collapsed but the doctors were able to fix it."
"Fix it how?"
She can't help but think of someone wrapping duct tape over a loose table leg to hold it together.
"Doctors typically use sutures because with staples, they would have to go back in and remove them."
She nods affirmatively. "Is he on a ventilator? A tube? Will he be alright?"
"No, honey. He's going to be fine. He's having blood transfusion because of what he lost and he's also on several antibiotics for pneumonia and infection."
She swallows hard. Surgery. Lung collapsed. Pneumonia.
"And his leg?"
"Just a sprain. He'll be good as new in no time," she says as she pats Haley's shoulder.
Haley nods instead of giving out an unearthly shriek. The woman is a nurse. She knows what she's talking about.
"Here we are," she states cheerfully as they roll into the brightly lit room.
To say he looks better would be an injustice. He looks much better. His lips are not blue and his skin is not that gad awful pasty-white-grey.
She gulps. "Is…is he in a coma?"
The nurse guides the wheelchair to the bed. "No. He's just resting."
Haley heaves out a sigh of relief. "What time is it?"
"2AM."
"Thank you," she says gratefully. "For bringing me to him."
"You're welcome. Now don't tell the doctor I told you anything about his progress," the nurse winks as she leaves the room.
Haley lifts herself off the wheelchair, grabbing onto the IV pole to keep herself steady.
Standing at the side of the hospital bed, she reaches for his hand with her bandaged one. It's now as warm as she remembers.
She leans over him to place a soft kiss on his lips. Silky.
There's a small jar of Vaseline on the bedside table.
"Hi, baby."
The absolute relief of seeing him well again turns her stomach with exhilaration. She's grinning like a jack-o'-lantern.
He looks so peaceful, his colouring is back and he's not wheezing.
Like the nurse said, there's a thin tube leading from a bag of rich blood to the back of his hand, another of clear liquid leading to his arm.
As she pulls away the blanket, she grunts in pain. She's aching everywhere, from her shoulders, to her butt, to her hips, to her knees. Another reason why hiking was not her idea of a good time.
She stretches out next to him, pulling the blanket to her waist, and laying her head gently on his firm chest. His heart beats strongly and powerfully. He'll be okay.
"We made it, Nathan. They found us."
Enjoying the warmth of his body next to hers, she watches his chest rise and fall, remembering all that's happened in the last two days. How they spent their time behind the waterfall, Nathan taking care of her sore feet, Nathan falling, Nathan passing out, having to leave him behind, the eyes, the paw, thinking she was going to die…
"Haley."
She lifts her head up so quickly that it connects with his chin.
"Ow," she giggles. "Sorry."
He laughs softly, looking down at her woozily. Her big brown eyes are looking on at him with tenderness.
"Hi," he greets her quietly.
He can breathe without having the urge to claw at his chest.
"Hi."
There's a dull ache where the rock pierced through but he knows it's for the best. It's much better than what he was feeling before.
He lifts the arm free of the IV slowly and she burrows under it.
With a tender kiss to her forehead, he asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she snivels. "Are you?"
Her prognosis doesn't really matter right now. If something goes wrong, at least she's in a hospital.
"I'm perfect."
He can't remember everything clearly but he can recall bits of it. Her whispering in his ear saying she had to go, saying she loved him.
"Thank you," he whispers in her hair as he pulls her closer.
"I didn't do anything. They came looking for us."
"And who showed them where I was?"
She doesn't answer. He kisses her temple.
"You led them, baby. That's more than enough."
She would do anything for him. Graze her elbows and knees trying to get him help. Rip out a needle just to see that he's okay.
She lifts up her face. "Any time."
She would do anything for him.
Studying her lovely face, he is at a loss as to how he can express his feelings for her.
"I love you, Haley," he says softly and clearly.
Overcome with a surge of emotions, she can't stop the tears.
"I love you, too," she responds quietly.
He holds her as she cries, telling her over and over again that it will be okay, that he loves her, that he's not going anywhere.
She lifts her pink and damp face when her sobs cease, grateful that they're alive together.
"It's okay, Hales."
She nods, a smile breaking through her tears.
"Have they called anyone?" he asks as he brushes his fingers against her soft cheek.
She actually doesn't know.
"I don't know. I don't think so."
They wouldn't need to; they are each other's next of kin.
He exhales softly. "We can call them later but right now…"
He slides down the bed sideways, so that they can be eye to eye. "Right now I just want you all to myself."
She smiles knowingly.
"I thought I'd lost you," she says gravely.
He touches his forehead to hers. "No way. Together, right?"
"Always," she whispers before their lips meet in a profound, toe-curling kiss.
My perfect partner, they are both certain.
Nathan deepens the kiss, his tongue probing her lips, begging for entrance. She opens her mouth slightly, granting him access, the first contact of their tongues like an electric shock searing through them.
Breaking the kiss, they pull away, faces inches apart. They stare at each other for a long moment, a myriad of emotions flitting across each of their faces.
Desire. Awe. Joy.
And then they smile, simultaneously leaning into each other again.
He teases her with his tongue, moving it in and out of her mouth, making her purr in protest.
"No fair," she breathes as she dances her tongue on his lip.
He smiles, thrusting his tongue within her mouth to meet hers. She lets out a soft gasp but quickly recovers, her tongue tracing the soft inside of his mouth, his running over her teeth.
It's simply magical.
"Fair enough?" he asks her as he pulls at her lower lip.
She squeaks a response. Even on a hospital bed, he knows how to leave her wanting.
He smirks and she can't help but kiss that smirk with desperate need. He's okay.
She sighs dreamily after another lengthy session of hungry after hungry tongue twirl, feeling sensually sleepy, clinging onto him fiercely.
Hair mussed, gowns hanging off loosely, forgetful of the prickly feeling in the backs of their hands. They want to do more, do they want to do more, but they're on a hospital bed, where anyone can walk in on them. There are also needles, bruises and stitches to consider. There's time for exploration later.
"Do your feet hurt?" he asks. He can feel the coarse material on her feet against his skin.
"No. They're just a little tender. My body hurts so bad, honey," she groans.
He chuckles, placing a kiss on her cheek. "It'll get better."
And then he kisses her brow.
"After about a week," he adds.
"A week?"
She sounds horrified, which he finds amusing.
"A week. You'll be begging me to pull you out of bed, and to carry you up and down the stairs."
She gulps. She is seriously thinking of starting to exercise regularly to prevent shocking her body like this ever again.
"How can you carry me when you just had surgery? Maybe we can bribe Lu—"
"Don't even say it. Unless zombies attack me during our escape, he is not carrying you anywhere."
She laughs.
"But he's your brother," she teases.
"And you're my wife."
She always likes hearing him refer to her as his wife.
"If anyone should carry you up and down any stairs, that anyone is me."
"You're so hot when you say things like that," she whispers, running her tongue across his lower lip, tugging it between hers, before stroking his mouth in a slow, gentle kiss.
The way they kiss, the way they always kiss, it's like their lives depend on it. It's heated, it's powerful and it's out of control.
"You owe me a story," he skims his own over the corner of her mouth, teasing her all over again.
And he owes her a star.
She bites back a whimper. "A story?"
"Yeah. Your first kiss."
*End*