Chapter 10 Reunion Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and He shall strengthen thine heart…
August 28th Northwest Territory Sector 2, Missoula
Mara stayed close to him, covertly studying the crowds around them and remembering the last time she'd worked in a disaster area. That had been five years ago, during the FEMA hurricane cleanup. The flooded streets and houses, stranded people and animals were nothing, compared to this. All she could see were refugees from all walks of life, long lines of the destitute waiting for help. Then there were the others who'd given up waiting and camped out along the streets. The place smelled of rotted garbage and raw sewage. As they stood in one of the lines that radiated out from the city center like spokes of a wheel, they faced the National Guard headquarters tent that protected this gateway into the city. For the last two hours the line at Gate 15 had moved slowly, and the sun was already slipping toward the horizon. She gripped the strap of Daniel's backpack as they shuffled forward, staying together despite the crowd. He turned his head and looked down at her, his expression grim.
"Keep your head down," he ordered quietly, glancing toward the overarching security cameras and floodlights. They'd said little to each other and tried to protect their gear as they were shoved forward in line. Claustrophobic in the crowd, Mara was well aware of how easy it would be for a pickpocket to raid their belongings, which was why she pressed against Daniel's back. She glanced up, trying to see over his shoulder. They were getting closer, but that was no guarantee they would get in before dark. Please, Lord…
She was so tired and hungry, and longed to rest her head against his back. She remembered his instructions about what to do if they became separated, which he'd outlined to her before they'd left the woods and descended onto the road that had led them here.
"See that ridge to the south?" he'd warned her, gazing toward the hills that rose from the plateau.
She'd nodded, judging the dark forest to be situated about five kilometers from the city.
"We'll meet there, if we get separated," he'd advised. And she'd agreed.
Now, she pressed closer to him as the loudspeakers blared the rules once again—warning that anyone who was found stealing or causing a disturbance would be taken in for questioning, with the threat of imprisonment clearly stated. She slid a hand around Daniel's side as she eyed the soldiers at the entrance—they were heavily armed and dressed in riot gear.
He lifted her hand from his ribs and squeezed it reassuringly as they drew nearer. The crowd surged against them from behind, and she pressed her cheek against the back of Daniel's shoulder. To her surprise, he drew her to his side to shield her from the crowd. She looked up at his stern profile, sliding her hand over his heart. His skin was hot and slick beneath his half-opened shirt, but the contact comforted her. She could feel his heart pounding fast, and he turned his head to meet her gaze, searching her eyes.
They shuffled forward, and when they steadied themselves, his hand gripped the back of her head. They were so close, and she felt him guiding her head toward him. Rising to her toes, she lifted her face and accepted his kiss. She'd thought he'd meant to reassure her, but when his lips touched hers they opened in a hungry, desperate kiss that she felt throughout her entire body. Winding her arms around him, she pressed against him as he embraced her, kissing her as if he never wanted to let her go. Despite the whistles and catcalls surrounding them, they shared a highly arousing kiss that she recognized as a bold claim, made in complete disregard for their future or circumstances.
She caressed his whiskered cheek as her eyes filled with tears, acknowledging the possibility of separation. When he lifted his head she was gripped by fear as the crowd shoved them forward. Suddenly they stood before the soldiers, having reached the entrance.
"State your name and last address," one of the soldiers ordered, eyeing them suspiciously. Daniel answered for her, giving the hotel's address as their own.
The older guard studied her while she prayed the blush Daniel had aroused with his kiss had faded. "What's with you?" he demanded, eyes slanting suggestively down her person.
"We're engaged," she answered, lifting her chin as she gripped Daniel's hand like a lifeline.
"Here to apply for a marriage license," Daniel added, squeezing her fingers as he held the man's gaze.
The younger guard nudged them apart with the barrel of his rifle. "Well ain't that nice," he said in a bored tone. "Got any papers?"
"'fraid not," Daniel answered calmly. "That's why we're here."
"Occupation?"
"Research staff, University of Washington," he answered.
The man's brows shot up. "What about you, lady?"
She stiffened. "Former Oregon EMT service."
The older one focused on Mara. "Got any relatives in a safe zone?"
"In New York, Sir," Daniel answered.
He smirked, exchanging glances with his partner. "No i.d. for either of you?"
"We lost everything," Daniel answered. "We came to apply for replacements, and marriage license."
"Some guys got all the luck," the younger one sighed, shaking his head.
The older guard turned his attention to Daniel. "And what makes you think you can get either?"
She watched a nerve in Daniel's cheek pulse. "We just wanted to apply, Sir—we don't want any trouble."
He smiled, whistling low. Two MPs approached, separating them as he looked past them. "Next—"
"Please, Sir!" Mara protested as they took Daniel's arms and turned him away, pushing her in the opposite direction.
"They're taking him for questioning," he answered, nodding to those next in line. "It's just routine."
"Please—let me wait for him," she begged, even as she was escorted to another line inside the tent. She choked back a sob of grief. "Please!" Dear God—no!
September 12, 5:52 p.m.
The air was heavy and hot, the terrain scorched despite the gray-yellow clouds swathing the sun. Mara sighed at the lifeless surroundings, dropping the hand shading her eyes. Turning, she let it swing at her side as she started back. She'd climbed up to the edge of the forest for one last look before they left in the morning, praying that despite everything that had happened, she'd see him again. This was where they'd agreed to meet, and she'd come here as often as she could, but still nothing. Her heart was heavy as she trudged back.
I'm not giving up, she resolved, even if I have to make it to New York without him.
Despite repeated appeals to the National Guard for information, Missoula city officials and rumors from the camp's grapevine, she had no idea what had become of Daniel. She'd petitioned both Legal Aid and the Red Cross, but the sheer number of refugees prevented her from finding out anything. She was repeatedly told that detainees were questioned and investigated, and those found lacking credibility usually ended up in a chain gang and sent off to work the rails or the mines. Despite seeking out these leads and listing his name on the missing persons boards, nothing had turned up.
At first they'd assigned her to the women's barracks for quarantine, after which she'd been released and labeled as just another refugee from the Northwest. Fortunately she'd been able to apply for a marriage license and visas for both of them after tracing Daniel's family names. All documents had cost her exorbitant fees, nearly wiping out the money Daniel had given her. She'd hoped that obtaining these documents in his name would have prompted his release, but something had gone wrong. After another week she'd been assigned a group and released for the journey east. As for Daniel, all she could do was pray and try to find a way to look for a sign from him here, as they'd agreed.
After successfully completed training in wilderness survival, her group was released to head as far as Buffalo. They each had assigned tasks, hers being part of a two person medic team. Every group needed one, and if no candidates were available, they were trained. She was grateful that she wasn't in charge, though—that role had been assigned to Neelah, an Arapahoe woman who was descended from generations of healers. She was her assistant, which freed her up for other duties like scouting. They'd trained her to shoot, too, and her muscles had grown in size and strength. She wondered what Daniel would think of her now that she was clearly no longer the wimp she used to be.
At the thought of him, her eyes flooded but she shoved the grief away. Ignoring the ache in her side, she hiked back up the trail and prayed no one had kept track of how long she'd been gone. It was almost chow time, and she had to get back before anyone suspected. Bending to snatch up the handkerchief she'd tied to a bush at the convergence of three trails, she took the correct one. Lifting the small bundle of treasures she'd gathered, she sniffed the herbs, remembering how Daniel had taught her how to forage for food, which made her miss him even more.
As she drew closer, she could see the light from the campfire glowing orange against the darkening forest. The others were gathering for dinner as she approached, handing her treasures to Cook. He glanced up at her, snorted at the meager contents, and set them aside.
"Sit and eat," he ordered, his voice a hoarse croak. "Not much booty for so long a forage," he commented.
She sat next to him and leaned forward, spooning some chili into a bowl. "Be glad I found anything," she retorted, strangely comforted by his gruff manner. At least he was harmless, she thought as she covertly eyed the others.
"You beat the scouts back," he informed her as she gulped down a spoonful of the mixture that was more spice and sauce than substance. "They got a valid excuse, 'stead of wanderin the woods looking for fairies."
"Very funny," she said in a deadpan voice, pulling her jacket closer in the chill of dusk. He tossed her a biscuit, which she shoved into her pocket. "Tomorrow I'll show you how to make mushroom stew."
"I can hardly wait," he growled, then leaned closer. "Watch yourself," he warned, "Mack's been asking for you."
She stiffened, covertly glancing around at the others. They didn't notice, being too busy eating and noisily sharing conversation as they ate. "What do you mean?"
He glanced toward the leader's tent. "Had an early supper and retired alone, he did."
She stared in that direction, a chill running up the back of her neck. "But he likes Shirl," she whispered.
He wiped his lips on his sleeve, eyeing her directly. "He's been watching you…don't matter if yer engaged or not."
She set down her empty bowl, grateful that the others ignored them as usual. "Thanks," she whispered, getting up to brush off her pants as he nodded. "See ya in the morning."
She stalked off, heading to the far edge of the camp and ducking behind the bushes to relieve herself. After checking her surroundings and deciding no one was watching her now, she slipped beneath the canopy of her lean-to, pretending to retire early. Neelah was just joining the others for dinner, and would probably not join her til much later. She prayed that no one besides Cook had noticed her absence earlier when she left to check Daniel's rendezvous spot, or now. But she meant to heed Cook's warning about Mack.
A faint sound awakened her suddenly, opening her eyes. Surprised that she'd fallen asleep, she sat up and eyed the old woman snoring softly beside her, then the rest of the fire had been banked and burned low, but she listened intently, wondering if the scouts finally returning. They'd been gone much longer than anyone had expected, so when they emerged from the darkness half dragging another man between them, she understood why. She held her breath, studying his bent head and the ragged sleeve that hung empty at his side. She touched Neelah's arm and shook it to rouse her, then got up to go meet them.
"What's going on?" she whispered to Daly as they dragged the victim toward her campsite. "Found a straggler out beyond the Pale," he panted tiredly. "Looks to have been out there some time. He's in rough shape—left arm's broken pretty bad."
She followed as they ducked under the tarp and lowered him to the blanket Neelah had spread out. The other scout left to fetch a lantern while she and Neelah bent to examine the stranger. She glanced down his filthy, tattered clothing before carefully loosening the blood-caked neckerchief binding his head.
"What happened?" Neelah asked Daly, who watched closely.
"Don't know, but you needn't worry—he won't give you any trouble," he told her. "Had all we could do to get him to come down off that ledge—he just stood staring out into nothin' like a zombie. We figured he was gonna end it all, but he couldn't even manage that. He hasn't fought us or muttered a sound since we found him."
"Looks severely dehydrated," Neelah judged, reaching for a canteen while Mara paused, bloodied bandage in her hand, as a surge of recognition erupted inside her. She forced her hands to unfasten the bloodied shirt as Sam returned with a lantern.
"We couldn't get him to drink," Daly defended, nodding to his partner as he shone the light over the man. "We didn't see anythin'—nobody else around, no gear, no nothin. Looks like he was deserted and left to die out there."
"He's catatonic," Sam sighed. "Must've been through some kinda hell. Anyway, we're gonna get some grub and sleep—it's been a long day."
"Go ahead, get some rest," Neelah nodded, returning her attention to the arm they'd just uncovered. Mara choked back a cry of grief, carefully unwrapping the crude splint around his arm. Neelah leaned over it, eyeing the damage critically. "We'll have to clean and rebandage it, but at least those two know how to set a break properly."
"Okay," Mara choked, trying to hide her shock as she carefully began to wipe the blood and dirt away from his badly swollen arm. It was Daniel, though she barely recognized him. His cheeks were sunken, his hair caked with blood and dirt, and his lips cracked and swollen. Still, she could barely hide the mixture of alarm and joy that sprang up inside her. He's back!
"Try to get some water into him," Neelah ordered, gently cleaning his arm. It was badly bruised and cut, and she shook her head in disgust. "What a mess."
Mara tried to keep from losing it as she considered the different scenarios that might have befallen him. Dabbing at his lips with a moistened cloth, she cleaned the blood from the corners of his mouth, then dribbled water at the center of his lips. He seemed to regain some level of consciousness, so she touched his chin.
"You need to drink," she ordered quietly, touching the canteen to his lips. He stiffened, half opening his eyes as he pursed his lips. "Please," she urged, slipping a hand beneath his head and trying again. When he resisted, she splashed some onto his lips, and to her relief he opened his mouth to accept it. After coaxing him to take a few half swallows, she watched him wilt again, and lowered his head back down.
"Good—check his ribs," Neelah ordered, up from swabbing his arm. "And hand me that gauze pack, will ya?"
Mara nodded and complied, gently peeling the bloody fabric of his Army issued shirt away. She recognized the camp insignia but concentrated on probing his abdomen and sides. He grunted softly in pain as she palpated the left side and looked up. "Could be worse—my guess is one cracked rib on the left."
"'thought so," Neelah sighed. "Got our work cut out for us—he's already feverish."
Mara soaked a cloth and applied it to his forehead, then helped her treat and bandaged his arm. She glanced up at the older woman, praying she was making the right choice.
"Promise you won't tell anyone," she began, causing Neelah to look up in surprise. Taking a moment to study her expression, she nodded.
"We have no secrets, Mara," she said softly, studying her closely. At her silence, she nodded. "Alright…I promise."
Mara swallowed hard. "I know him," she whispered, reaching up to wipe her forehead. "It's my fiancé—the one I told you about," she said carefully. "I didn't recognize him at first, but it's him."
Neelah glanced down at his face. "The answer to your prayers?"
"Yes," Mara choked, "but the others can't know…please, don't tell anyone."
Neelah looked up. "Fine, but I don't know why," she whispered. "What about when he comes to?"
Mara resumed cleaning his chest and shoulders, rinsing the cloth as she went. "I don't know...he may not know me, if he's truly catatonic."
Neelah nodded. "Then we'll cross that bridge when we get there."
They worked without sharing another word, gently easing him into a warm clean shirt and binding his arm to his side with a sling. Then they covered him with two blankets and Mara thanked her.
"Get some rest," she offered. "I'll watch him—I slept a while before."
Neelah smiled thankfully. "Turned in early, did you?"
She nodded, smoothing the hair back from Daniel's forehead as she studied his face. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see him again…"
"And here he is," Neelah sighed. "Fine lookin' man, beneath all that dirt and damage."
Mara looked up, holding her gaze. "I think so," she admitted. "We were going to be married when they separated us." Her eyes flooded with tears as she shook her head and looked away.
"I'm glad for ya, Honey," Neelah sighed, patting her shoulder before she turned to go back to lie down.
Mara patted Daniel's brow, praying silently for his recovery and thanking God for his arrival. She could hardly believe it, even though she would have preferred to have found him well. Gently smoothing balm over his cracked lips, she was thankful that he was breathing more evenly now. She wondered what had happened to him, praying he wasn't catatonic, as the men had judged. If he was, it could only mean that he'd suffered some horrible trauma or experience. She watched his eyes move beneath his lids as he dreamt, remembering their discussion about crying out in his sleep. She lay down next to him, keeping an eye on his status. After some time he quieted and fell into a deeper sleep, at which point she closed her eyes and relaxed. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she felt a sense of peace. Her prayers had been answered.
Daniel awoke suddenly, jerking to consciousness with an onslaught of pain. Groaning, he tried sitting up but a hand on his shoulder pushed him back down.
"Stay still young man, if you know what's good for you," an elderly woman's voice ordered.
He stared up at her, his eyes unable to focus in the dim light.
"You don't want to reinjure that arm," she advised, leaning over to cover him with the blanket. "By the way, welcome back to the land of the living."
He turned his head away from her scrutiny, feeling weak and in pain. His mind was numb, unattached to the present except for the horror of what he'd experienced and witnessed. It leapt to life again, a dark flood of torment that was quickly shut inside the protective shell of apathy. His panic receded, then the numbness closed in on his mind. He was aware of her probing his upper arm and shoulder, then his ribs, and steeled himself against the pain. When she tightened his sling he gritted his teeth and moaned, passing out from the pain.
October 2, 8:52 a.m.
Mara tried not to stare at Daniel as he walked the perimeter of the camp, his expression blank. It had been more than two weeks since they'd found him, nearly a week before he'd been able to get up and move about. She was careful not to reveal her true feelings for him, but it had been difficult. If he'd noticed her, he'd given no sign of recognizing her. Her emotions swirled in a storm inside her, but she couldn't let anyone know. When she heard someone throw coffee onto the fire with a mild curse, she stared up at Sam as it hissed upon the rocks.
"Worst coffee I've ever had," he complained, shifting his attention to Daniel as he passed them by. "There goes a certified looney," he grimaced. "We oughta leave him behind when we finally move on."
"That's not your decision," Neelah scolded, glancing covertly at Mara. "He's in a state of shock, that's all."
"There's more to it than that," Ryan interjected, spitting out a stream of tobacco juice. "I seen others like him—they usually don't get back to whatever they were before. He's just slow us down, and we gotta beat the weather to get back East."
"Mack will decide what we do with him," Mara stated nonchalantly, finishing her coffee. "Neelah's right—some patients take longer to heal than others."
"Well I don't know what's taking him so long," he shot back, shrugging into his overcoat. "Anyway, we'll find out soon enough—Mack's gonna take him out to test him in the field. For some reason he's runnin' late though."
"Probably sizing up Kiera," someone chuckled, setting off a cacophony of guffaws that quieted as their leader strode into the camp with Daly. They all stood while he gestured for the horses.
"Make sure we get a mount for the newcomer," he ordered Daly, eyeing Daniel as he stood at the edge of the outcrop with his back to them, staring toward the horizon. Mack's eyes narrowed upon him. "He's on the alert for somethin', and I'm gonna find out what that is."
"Why don't we just leave him behind?" Ryan sneered. "He's useless."
"I wouldn't be too quick to judge," Mack argued, glancing at Neelah, then at Mara. "Something happened out there, and he's our only clue as to what."
"I wonder if he'll be able to give you any information," Neelah cautioned. "I wouldn't expect too much from him."
He glanced down at her. "I disagree…somethin's up with him, judging by the way he goes all silent and stiff like he is now. If something attacked him, it's either looking for him or he's aware of its presence or both. I'd rather not be taken by surprise."
Ryan stared at him a moment. "You may be onto somethin'…he does seem to be waitin' for something."
"Well you're not gonna find out," Mack informed him, gesturing to her. "Mara, take his place—I can't afford to have to explain my every decision—let's go!"
She nodded and picked up her bag, trying not to reveal her joy. She'd only gone scouting twice before, and welcomed the chance to break with the monotony of sitting around camp. Plus she'd be with Daniel when his value was about to be put to the test. Her greatest fear was that they'd find him a burden and leave him behind.
She covertly watched Mack go over to Daniel, place a hand on his good shoulder and bend close to speak to him. Daniel turned his head, his expression blank, but he appeared to listen, satisfying Mack for the time being. He followed Mack toward the horses and took Daly's offer of an arm to help him climb up. She held her own reins and watched without expression. Once mounted, he cradled his arm and sat stiff and expressionless as he waited. She swallowed a sob of grief as they moved into position behind Mack. Daly brought up the rear behind her, and they started off down the cow path that led toward the lowlands.
Beneath the brim of her hat she studied the stiff set of Daniel's shoulders, then eyed their surroundings. Her rifle bounced at her side, but Daniel had no weapon. Nobody trusted him, and she worried for his safety if a threat should present itself. Praying silently for their protection, she followed a few meter's distance behind him. From time to time, Mack turned to study Daniel. Other than that, no one spoke or interacted.
The sky was dark and threatening for early morning, the clouds gathered into thunderheads for as far as she could see. Within an hour's time they were on the open prairie and headed toward the distant cliffs and eastern forest. Splitting up to scout the area, she and Daly skirted the southernmost edge while Mack and Daniel rode north. As she gazed in their direction she was overcome by a strong sense of foreboding, which wasn't helped by the darkening skies and cooling temperatures. It hadn't rained in weeks and the drought was widespread, yet the air was charged with static, as if awaiting a storm. The wind picked up, and she prayed they would head back soon, before anything hit. Storms were unpredictable and potentially dangerous, given the extensive changes in climate in this part of the country. She watched Daly point toward Mack, who lifted an arm and waved them over. Relieved, they headed back to meet them.
Something caught on the air and she sniffed. "Storm's coming," she warned him.
He snorted in disagreement. "It ain't rained here in months, girl."
"Look at the clouds," she insisted, glancing toward the dark forest and peaks beyond. "Wind's picking up too."
They finally met up with the others, and Daly nodded to Mack. "No signs of life anywhere," he reported.
"We should check the forest," Mack sighed, studying their surroundings, "but not if it's gonna rain."
"What's with him?" Daly wondered, eyeing Daniel's fixation on the tree line. Mara noted the alarm in his posture, which was the first sign of emotion anyone had witnessed from him.
"What the…?" Mack murmured as Daniel dismounted with surprising agility, surprising them all. "I knew it," he murmured, watching him turn and start toward the forest. The arm he usually kept cradled to his waist fell to his side as he quickened his pace.
"Follow him," he ordered, while Mara's heart pounded in fear. He was obviously heading toward the forest, on foot and without a weapon.
Daly obeyed, dismounting and keeping some distance from Daniel as he followed him.
Mack watched in fascination as Daniel's step took on new determination. "He's been here before..."
"You can't just let him go," she protested, despite her determination not to seem overly concerned. "He's clearly not himself."
"We need to check this out," he disagreed, watching Daly struggle to keep up with Daniel. The skies darkened further, flooding the landscape with a foreboding blackness. The wind buffeted Daniel's clothes without deterring his pace. In fact, it seemed he sped up as he headed closer.
"Not now, with the storm—"
"I said I was gonna test him," Mack insisted, watching with rapt attention. "He knows where he's going…"
Mara bit back a protest, her throat dry. Then, to her horror, she saw a dark shadow rise from the tops of the trees. At its appearing Daniel stopped suddenly, clearly on the alert and taking his stance. He was over 100 meters away, unarmed and about to face what appeared to be a giant condor, roused from its resting place in the black forest. Daly stopped in his tracks, frozen to the spot. Daniel tilted his head back as the huge creature rose higher into the black thunderhead directly above him.
Mack slid from his horse and she dismounted, gripping her reins and those of Daniel's horse, who danced nervously and whinnied.
"What the?" Mack gasped, watching as the bird of prey turned high above Daniel, repositioning itself. Then it began to dive toward the place where he stood.
"No!" she cried, gripping her rifle and raising it to her shoulder.
"Get out of there!" Mack shouted to him, his expression frozen as they watched the condor speed down toward its prey with an ominous cry. Folding its wings, it sped up. Daly shouted to Daniel to run, but was glued to his own spot.
"Noooo!" she cried out in alarm as Daniel lifted his good arm in warning to the creature. He began to shout to it in a language she didn't understand as it dived lower. Then it swooped down upon him, covering him with blackness like a dark cloud. Daly and Mack ran toward him as her eyes flooded with tears, making it impossible to see any trace of him.
"Don't shoot!" Mack ordered as he grabbed the tip of Daly's rifle to dislodge his aim. Suddenly the skies opened and a shaft of brilliant light sliced through the darkness, piercing the condor. It rose up and screamed in pain and surprise. Suddenly it vanished in a puff of black smoke, revealing Daniel on his knees, hunched over and holding the side of his neck.
Mara ran toward him, leading the horses as Daly came to his side. The beam of light withdrew into the dark clouds overhead as the winds died, leaving a great calm that settled over them as she joined them. The men watched in mute amazement. Then Daly gripped Daniel's good shoulder, dropping to his knees at his side. The horses calmed immediately, so she went to his other side. She fell to her knees before him, pulling out her handkerchief as she saw the blood oozing from between Daniel's fingers. Pulling his hand away, she pressed it to his neck despite his gasp of pain. He was white and his breathing was labored, but he lifted his head and met Daly's shocked gaze.
Daly froze, shocked to be singled out by the formerly catatonic man. "What the?" he murmured.
"Rip something into strips, so I can bind his wound," she ordered, surprised when Daly pulled out his handkerchief and obeyed. His face was equally pale and shaken, though he tried to hide it.
"What the hell just happened?" he choked, gazing up into the clear sky. Mack towered over them all, watching their interactions.
"I don't know," she admitted, carefully binding the bleeding and fastening the bandage around his neck. Daniel turned and eyed her without expression, avoiding her eyes. Then he wilted, shoulders slumping as he clutched his arm close, clearly exhausted.
"Did you see that, boss?" Daly gaped, getting to his feet. "I ain't never seen anythin' like it before!"
"I did," Mack admitted, meeting Mara's upward glance. "He alright?"
"The bleeding is slowing down, and there don't seem to be any other injuries," she reported, turning her attention back to Daniel. Thank God.
"Looks a bit shaken to me," Daly laughed nervously.
Mack knelt to look Daniel in the eyes, though he dropped his head again. "Just as I suspected," he marveled.
"What do you mean?" Daly demanded, helping Mack get him to his feet.
Mack reached out to steady him when he swayed. "He's gifted," he stated. "I sensed there was something different about him, now we know. That light protected him, though I'd just as soon deny what I saw with my own eyes. But I don't want either of you saying anything about this, understand?"
Daly looked puzzled. "But, boss, we just—"
"I want your word Daly…Ms. Mara complies, right?"
She nodded and got to her feet, wiping a hand across her brow with trembling fingers. "Can we head back now? I've had enough excitement to last me the year."
Mack nodded. "You were right about the rain," he admitted, looking up at the gathering clouds. "Let's get going, before we get caught in it. Ride alongside him, and keep a trained eye on him."
"Okay," she answered, pulling herself up into the saddle as they helped Daniel mount. He settled and took the reins, his expression blank as before. The others mounted and they turned to head back.
She studied Daniel's profile as they rode, frightened by what had happened yet relieved that he'd survived. No one had ever survived a condor attack, that much she knew. The huge birds of prey often carried off children, many of which had never been seen again. Those left behind had been torn apart by their huge beaks and razor sharp claws. It was a miracle that Daniel had only suffered one wound, and that he was alive. She rode at his side behind Daly and Mack. Though grieved by his failure to recognize or acknowledge her, she was grateful that the Lord had obviously protected him. Uncapping her canteen, she held it out toward him. After a moment and much to her surprise, he took it, keeping his gaze averted. She watched in mute fascination as he lifted it to his lips, tilted back his head and drank greedily. Then, without looking at her, he held it out. She took it and drank the rest, capped it and returned it to her saddlebag. A blush crept up her neck, despite his strange behavior.
His lips touched this she thought, taking a long pull from her water. Despite his lack of expression, she felt her spirits lift. They were as close as they'd ever been, after all this time, and she was grateful just to have him near. Unfortunately the clouds opened and fat drops of rain hit the brim of her hat. She studied the splotches hitting the hat Daly had planted on Daniel's head and urged her mare faster. They rode through the rain, and by the time they reached camp they were soaked and shivering.
"Get him inside and help him change," Mack ordered as they dismounted, and she nodded.
"I'll see to the horses," Daly offered, for which she thanked him. Leading Daniel into the main tent, she removed his hat and her own, hanging them to dry on the line rigged up for the storm. It felt warm inside, out of the rain, though she cringed at the crashing thunder that rumbled overhead. Pulling off her coat, she watched Daniel stop struggling to remove his own, his face expressionless. He looked exhausted.
"Here, let me help," she offered, peeling it off his shoulders and easing it from his injured arm. He blindly reached up to unfasten his vest while she gathered dry linen to bind his arm. Helping him remove his shirt, she gently guided him to sit upon the cot. The wound on the side of his neck had already closed, which surprised her. She paused and looked up at his profile, but he kept his head turned away. Longing to hold him in her arms and hopefully trigger some response, she nevertheless thought better of it. He'd been traumatized, and today's events didn't help. Drying his skin, she rebandaged his arm, her eyes tearing at the familiar sight of his scarred shoulders and back. Even though he sat before her, she grieved the loss of the Daniel she once knew. Unable to resist, she rested her hand on the back of his good shoulder, though he did not respond.
"Let's get you into some dry clothes," she said quietly, easing a clean shirt onto him and buttoning it up for him. He didn't move until she reached the top buttons, when suddenly his hand gripped hers.
"I'll do it," he said quietly, waiting, but still avoiding her eyes.
She gripped his hand, studying his profile. "Daniel," she choked, "don't you remember me?"
He didn't respond, and she didn't press him. Clearing her throat, she stepped behind the screen and changed into something from the trunk of old clothes, relieved to have dry clothes on once again. She hung her wet clothes and his shirt on the clothesline, then returned to his side.
"Are you alright to get into bed?" she asked, watching his eyes shift to the door of the tent.
He nodded. "Thank you."
His tone was dismissive, and she took her cue to leave. Thankful that the incident with the condor had snapped him out of his catatonic state, she couldn't help wonder why he didn't remember her. She sensed that whatever had happened to him had left him deeply scarred, but there was nothing she could do.
She lifted her chin and forced a smile. "Good night, then," she choked, but he said nothing and did not look up.
Daniel sensed her pain, not really understanding it. He had to admit that he felt something when she was near, but the memories were vague, elusive. When she touched him he felt jolted to his core, and sensed that they had once been close. But his mind was fogged and the effect she had on him was unsettling. She seemed upset by that, but all he could do was pray for understanding.
As for the condor, he was shaken by the power of the words he'd been given to defeat it. But it shook him that something so otherworldly had had the power to inflict a physical wound. Reaching up, he touched the bandage covering it and closed his eyes. Suddenly warmth began to spread throughout the area, heating up until he gritted his teeth. Then just as suddenly it vanished. He reached up to touch the bandage, feeling no soreness. Carefully peeling away the dressing, he felt no evidence that it had been there. The skin was smooth, and he knew he was healed. Then his arm began to heat up in the same way.
With his good hand he slowly unwrapped his left arm and set aside the splint. Extending his arm, he prayed and studied it. Eventually the bruises began to fade, and as the heat inside it increased, he felt it grow stronger. Gently probing the site of the break, he found it whole, for once without pain. His throat closed with suppressed emotion and his eyes flooded with tears. Feeling overwhelmed, he gave in to great sobs of grief, careful to make no sound as he released all the pain that was pent up inside him. He bent his head, grateful for the mercy given to him. He didn't deserve it, or his healings.
Then he got up, feeling dizzy with exhaustion just from walking behind the screen where she had changed. He eyed the clothes piled there and glanced toward the entrance to the tent. Satisfied, he peeled off his wet trousers, undergarments and socks, exchanging them for clean dry clothes. He felt his arm recovering its strength, feeling like new—better than new.
He hung up the wet clothing and walked over to the bed. Lying down, he raised his right arm over his head and closed his eyes. He wanted to pray as long as he could, but sleep overtook him and he fell into a dreamless state.