Well, I survived the operation - thanks for all your good wishes and prayers. I was very touched by your lovely messages. I'm now hobbling around with my foot in a very unattractive boot to protect it, but thankfully I don't need crutches - just a stick to stop myself wobbling.
From now on, Edward and Bella will be sharing the chapters.
Chapter Twenty-One
Edward
The focus in the room changes in an instant. Eleazar, Carmen, and the six vampire guests disconnect from Kate's trauma to redirect their interest at me. They all heard Bella unnecessarily say her name twice. Does Bella genuinely believe I could have already forgotten who she is? I don't have to read the minds of anyone in this room to know that they are all intrigued to find out how I'll warn Bella about the danger she has no idea is coming her way.
What should I say to her? 'Get out of your house,' should be my first words, even though vampires can track down anybody once they identify a scent. Seconds tick by. If I don't speak soon, she'll presume I've given her the wrong number. Should I let her think this and just turn up in Forks without telling her I'm coming?
"Edward?" she repeats as a question.
"Hey, yes … sorry. How are you, Bella?" I say automatically and then add, "I'm glad you've called," as a genuine afterthought.
"Great. Can we talk?" she replies.
"Sure. Just give me a minute. I'm not on my own right now. I'll take this in my room."
I look directly into Eleazar's eyes as a polite way of informing him that I'm searching his mind for inspiration. A well of over two hundred years of lived experience offers me nothing. He shrugs his shoulders so no help there. Carmen shakes her head and looks desperate. Kate mouths, 'Sorry,' and looks away. I set off for my room – my own thoughts in turmoil.
"Hey," I say again as I push the door closed behind me. "Did you have a good journey home?" I purposely start the conversation light. I'll mention the murderous vampire heading her way later.
"Fine, thanks, but life has been stressful from the day I got here. My dad and I have got the virus. We're okay so far. Dad's breathless and super-tired. I feel exhausted all the time but I genuinely think we're over the worst. How's the virus situation in Chicago?"
"I'm not in Chicago, Bella. I changed my destination after I left you and flew to Alaska. I've friends here. They called and invited me to stay if I could get a seat on the Anchorage flight. My sister was annoyed but I can see her anytime."
"Wow! Alaska – I've always wanted to visit. Where are you?"
"Denali … it's beautiful."
"Cold, I bet."
"Yes, but spring is just around the corner. The days are getting longer, the tundra is already changing color and the animals are venturing out from their winter dens. The park will soon be teeming with wildlife.
"Wonderful … I'm so envious, even though where I am is picturesque. We live on a road that cuts through the forest so I'm surrounded by nature. I really miss big trees when I'm in the city."
"Me too. But I miss New York when I'm away. I prefer living there to Chicago."
"I've never been."
"You must, someday. I'd like to show you around. So … what else have you been doing since you got back."
"I had a long-standing issue to do with my high school that needed resolving. That's done now. I won't bore you with the details. I've met up with some old friends who are having to isolate now because Dad and I caught the bug. I've been reading a book about New York I borrowed from the book store which has some great pictures and stories so that's been a good distraction. Can I ask you something though?"
"Sure," I reply even though I can guess what's coming.
"What's the significance of 1923 on your email address?"
I force a laugh. "Why do you want to know?" I say cheerily.
"Just curious."
"Okay … it's the year my real grandfather first set foot in America. I use 1923 all the time for internet passwords and pin codes, but keep that a secret."
"Right. So which month did your grandfather arrive?"
"January I think – why?"
"Nothing."
"What?"
"Nothing," Bella repeats. There's an awkward silence before she says, "How long are you staying in Alaska?"
"I haven't decided. What are your plans for the next few weeks?"
"Stay home. Get well. Write an article. Do some research on an old photograph I found in the college library, just general shit!"
Bella's tone has changed. The comment about the photographs means she knows I'm not being truthful about 1923. I'm gutted, but I'm not ready yet to give her the true answer.
"You sound snippy, Bella," I say light-heartedly.
"I'm not snippy. I just don't appreciate BS. Look I have to go, Edward. Something's going on downstairs. I'll call you back. Bye."
She disconnects before I have a chance to warn her that a murderous, blonde-haired, snake-eyed vampire would be calling in the next few days with the intention of killing her. What the fuck do I do now? At least I have her cell number. I could send her a text. 'Don't answer the door,' would be a start, but then vampires don't have to be invited in. That's Bram Stoker Dracula-level bullshit. Tanya could punch the door gently and it would still disintegrate into matchsticks. My only hope is that Tanya will take a long time to discover where Bella lives which will give me the time advantage I need. She's already hours ahead of me but I've decided to fly to Seattle. Bella's only hope of survival is for me to get to Forks before Tanya finds out where she lives, snatch her from her house, and take her out of Tanya's reach before the Quileute pick up that I'm there.
Instead of speaking to Eleazar to inform him about my intention to follow Tanya, I decide to hunt. I'm hungry. I need sustenance before I leave for Forks. Powering up prior to a possible confrontation with Tanya, the wolves, or both, will reduce the temptation to snack on an innocent human on the journey. The huge Moose that wandered past the cabin is in the distance but she has a calf with her. I'm not that cruel. A Caribou herd shouldn't be too far away. Their scent is easy to detect.
Speeding across Denali National Park is a joy. Loose snow has melted on the lower slopes to expose young shoots of pink fireweed and purple lupine which add a welcome splash of color to the principally brown landscape. Yellow cinquefoil will appear in a few weeks' time, along with abundant patches of the bright-white heather which cover wide swathes of tundra not blanketed by willow and birch. Unless I return to Denali soon, I'll miss Alaska's spectacular spring which in my opinion rivals the cherry blossom and maple displays that tourists flock to see yet they ignore Alaska's beauty. "Good," I say out loud. The slowly increasing numbers of visitors to the Park are only welcome for the money they bring to the locals and not for the damage they do to the environment.
Very few trees lie between the cabin and the horizon so spotting animal movement is easy. I soon catch sight of the Caribou from about a mile away and single out two elderly animals. Gamekeepers cull the sick and injured for compassionate reasons. I do the same. Apart from criminals, I don't enjoy killing any living beings. These Caribou though have had a better life than most farmed animals, so depriving a sick or elderly one of a violent, painful death in the jaws of a pack of hungry wolves is kindness in my eyes.
Sneaking up on the herd is impossible in such a barren landscape. Speed is my advantage. The animals sense my presence and turn to escape, but not fast enough to outrun me. The first is down and drained before the herd has traveled a quarter of a mile. I leave the carcass for the wolves and chase the herd for a second time. The elderly Caribou senses her fate and lags behind, almost as though she's offering herself up to save the others. I feel some guilt as I leap on her back, but if it's not me who takes her life, it will soon be a wolf. Her end is quick. I don't apologize.
Full but not satisfied, I head back to the cabin. I'll depart as soon as I've cleaned myself up. If I can get on a flight, I could be in Seattle in about six hours. I'll run the rest of the way and maybe steal a car to remove Bella from harm's way. When I'm inside the range of Eleazar's 4G mast, I check my cell but Bella hasn't called back. I wonder again what made her ring off in such a hurry.
My cell beeps. My heart leaps. It's not Bella though but Carlisle answering my 'call me urgently' text with his own.
'Edward, Alice has just told me about the werewolf danger you are considering walking into. On no account must you set foot on the Olympic Peninsula. Your life is more important than Bella's.'
Like the majority of recalcitrant teenagers, I react negatively to being told what to do. My resolve to do exactly the opposite increases ten-fold.
Bella
"Dad?"
I run downstairs and into the living room. Dad has knocked over the table next to his Lazy Boy which explains the crash I heard when I was speaking to Edward. I know there's something seriously wrong the moment I see him. Eyes wide, face gray, lips blue, he tries to speak. His right hand is rubbing his chest in circular movements. His left hand is waving in the air.
"I … can't … breathe. Heart," he manages to say before his eyes disappear into the back of his head.
I rush over and grab his wrist to search for a pulse. It's there but faint and erratic. I run to the phone on the kitchen wall and dial 911. The operator picks up almost immediately.
"Ambulance! My dad's having a heart attack. We need help, quickly," I yell.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, I'm fucking certain. I know how to check a pulse. He's going blue."
"Ma'am. Calm down. Just give me your address. We'll get a paramedic out to you."
I scream our address down the phone adding that Dad is a Chief of Police, hoping that might carry some weight. I purposely don't mention we are quarantined though – that could delay help coming our way. I know what I'm doing is wrong, but right now I am totally in survival mode.
I rush to the door to open it so whoever turns up won't have to knock when they arrive and then hurry back to Dad who is just about breathing.
"What do I do," I shout at nobody. I'd completed first response training including resuscitation at school, but only on a dummy. Should I lie him flat, or put him in the recovery position? I can't remember anything I was taught. Tears are rolling down my cheeks as I watch my dad's lips get bluer. He still has a faint pulse which confirms this is a heart attack and not an un-survivable cardiac arrest. At least I know the difference.
Every second feels like an age until the first paramedic bursts through the door. I hadn't heard any sirens so he must have got here on a motorcycle or by car. He already has a mask and gloves on, but I'm thinking straight now.
"Stop!" I yell. "Dad and I have the virus. Be careful. I'm sorry I didn't say anything when I called 911."
"No worries," he says and carries on walking towards Dad. "Just back off and leave the room," he adds assertively. "I'll call you if you're needed."
I can't leave the room completely. I watch from the door while the first paramedic plus two more from the ambulance that's just arrived connect Dad to oxygen and other scary-looking pieces of equipment. A defibrillator is brought in but not used, which I take as a good sign. After they've worked on Dad for about fifteen minutes including giving him two injections, they wheel him past me to the ambulance. I step forward to follow but the first paramedic stops me.
"You can't go with him. You'll have to stay here because you're infected. We've stabilized him for now. When he wakes, he'll probably be in the Coronary Care Unit, which you wouldn't be able to enter anyway. Stay by the phone. The hospital will call you when they have news.
By the time the paramedic has finished talking, Dad has already disappeared inside the ambulance and the doors are closing so I've missed the chance to say goodbye. I'm sobbing while I nod that I've understood. The paramedic pats me on my shoulder.
"My guess is he's going to be okay. I suspect one of his heart valves has malfunctioned or stopped working completely, probably because of the virus. Your dad is not the first patient we've seen like this. Now go and make yourself some strong coffee and sit by the phone."
I stay on the step until the siren fades to nothing. Indoors when I see his empty chair, I collapse against the wall and slide onto the floor. I've never felt so alone as I do at this moment. The house is deathly quiet after being a hive of activity. The contrast makes me feel even worse. I feel wretched. My world has crashed around me and I need to talk to someone, to make sense of what's happened. The only person who would understand how I feel right now is Jake.
I run upstairs to where I dropped my phone after talking to Edward and punch in Jake's number. I have to wait for seven long rings before he picks up.
"Hey! I was thinking of calling you."
"Jake …"
"Bella, what's happened?"
"It's Charlie, it's Dad … he's."
"Oh shit, no!"
"He's not dead, Jake. He's had a heart attack. He's gone to the hospital and I wasn't allowed to go with him."
"Are you on your own?"
"Yes," I howl and start to sob uncontrollably.
"Fuck that, I'm coming over. You're not staying in that house by yourself. There could be more assholes out there with bricks."
"You can't move in, Jake," I say between sobs. "I've still got the virus. I'm not allowed to see anyone."
"I'm not moving in, Bella. You're coming to live with us."
"That's not possible. I'm not allowed to go anywhere. It's too dangerous. I can't risk taking the virus onto the reservation."
"You won't have to be near anyone. There's an empty cabin next to ours where you can stay on your own. I can keep an eye on you there. I'm coming to get you on the bike, now. The fucking virus will have to fight the wind to get to me. You've got twenty minutes to get a bag together. No excuses."
Jake disconnects and that's it. There's no point arguing. Five feet three against six feet three, or four if he's grown another inch since he picked me up from the ferry. He would carry me out of here kicking and screaming if I refuse. I rush around checking windows and doors and throw some clothes and bathroom essentials into my backpack plus my laptop in the hope the cabin has Wi-fi.
After I've washed and disinfected my hands thoroughly, I rub antiseptic wipes over my clothes, shoes, and backpack. When I hear Jake's bike approaching, I put two masks over my nose and mouth and sunglasses over my eyes. Jake doesn't have time to get off the bike. I'm out the door and down the steps before he has the chance to switch off the engine.
"Move before anyone sees us," I order as I slide behind him. "I'll put the helmet on when we're among the trees."
"Yes, Ma'am," Jake replies. The grin he flashes me over his shoulder is infectious. I smile for the first time since Dad's heart attack even though I've just realized that he isn't wearing a mask.
Jake takes the longer route to the rez to avoid places where I might be recognized. As we speed along Forks' deserted backroads I cling tightly to his warm body, my cheek pressed against his thick leather jacket, my knees clamped against his strong thighs. The smell of leather ever after reminds me of being loved and protected, which is exactly how I feel at this moment. 'Why can't I truly love Jake?' I ask myself for the hundredth time as we hurtle through the forest? He's my best friend. I love and respect him in every way, except for the most important way.
Jake slows down as we approach the rez. For the last quarter mile, the bike bounces over the rough track before we pull up close but not too close to the Black's cabin. Billy is on the step in his wheelchair – pipe in one hand, Vitamin R in the other. When he waves and blows me a kiss, I burst into tears again. If Dad dies, it won't be just me who'll be grieving.
Jake helps me off the bike and steers me towards the generously described 'cabin,' which I would say is more like a large shed or a hut. One long window and a door fill most of the front wall which has a small paved area in front of it. I spot brightly colored drapes which I take as a promising sign. On the lop-sided roof, a haphazard tin chimney protrudes from the moss-covered shingles, which indicate that at least the hut has heating. I've been to Jake's cabin many times over the past fifteen years but have never noticed this hut before even though it stands less than a hundred yards from their door. I wonder then who'd lived here in the past and why it is empty now.
"This is the sick bay," Jake says as we reach the door, answering my unasked question. "In the past, if anyone on the rez caught a bug that looked contagious, they'd stay here until they got well. We haven't used it for that for years thanks to kids getting their shots now. Folks who need time-out move in here for a while sometimes. If you shout loudly outside, I'll be able to hear you inside our cabin."
I stand in front of it and wipe away my tears. The hut is perfect. I couldn't wish to be in a better place. I'll be on my own but surrounded by friends. Well, more than friends. People I love and who love me.
"I'll bring some supplies over later, Bella – coffee, cookies, milk, bread."
"Not milk," I whisper. "Have you got any spare fruit and vegetables?"
"Oh shit, you're a veggie. I forgot. Yep, we've got home-grown. I'll shoot over to Sam's to get some extra. His girlfriend grows everything.
"Thanks," I reply as I push the door open. The first thing I see is a surprisingly modern wood burner positioned in the center of the long wall at the back. A kitchen with a ring for cooking, a kettle, toaster, and fridge take up one end, the bed the whole width of the other. A small table with two chairs and one battered armchair are the only other pieces of furniture. No TV. Despite the cool temperature outside, the hut feels warm inside, I guess because the window faces south. A door in the back wall on the kitchen side leads to a tiny bathroom with a basic shower and toilet, no hand basin or mirror. Next to that is the fuel store for the wood burner. On top of the woodpile, a spider from Hell scuttles away as I check this out. I decide this is one place I won't be visiting as there is already a wood supply in the cabin.
"I'll leave you be, Bella," Jake calls from outside. "I've got stuff to do for Billy but I'll be back in a couple of hours. Call me if you need to go to the hospital, okay?"
"Okay, thanks," I reply and wave him away with a smile. Jake roars off on the bike while I drop into the armchair which is now bathed in a golden pool of light, courtesy of a dust-ridden sunbeam pouring through the window. Taking my masks off is a relief. I take several deep breaths as I look around. This will be my home for at least a week, or until I take another test and the result comes back negative. I'd broken the rules leaving the house but I have no regrets. My excuse, if I'm ever pulled up for this aberration, will be that I felt vulnerable at home because of the brick incident. Even though the moron who threw the brick has been traced through fingerprint evidence, he'd written the word, 'we'll', on the note, which implies more than one person in the community is mad at me.
My phone won't connect to any available Wi-fi so I revert to 4G and search the internet for the number of the hospital. I ring and ask to be put through to wherever Charlie Swan has been taken. I get through quickly which surprises me as the operator warned me how busy they were. The woman that answers the phone has already been told who is calling as she greets me with, "Hello, Isabella, you're Charlie's daughter I hear."
Being related to the Chief of Police has its advantages.
"Hello, is Charlie okay?"
"I'll go check his current status. Just hold on dear girl."
She sounds cheerful which I take as a good sign. I still feel sick as I wait though. The next sound I hear is a man clearing his throat. Oh oh!
"Hello, Isabella. This is Dr. Warnock. Your father is doing okay. We've determined what the problem is and he'll definitely require surgery as it's more than just a sticky valve. His condition is serious but at this stage not considered to be life-threatening while he stays under our care. We'll know more when we take a look inside but we can't do that until his breathing has improved. But don't worry. He's in good hands. I'll arrange for you to speak to him when he's been properly examined and he's well enough."
I can feel myself relaxing as the doctor speaks and then tensing up again when I know I have to admit that I'm not at home.
"Can you ask him to call me on my cell? Um …"
"I hope you haven't left the house, Isabella?"
"I had to, Doctor, because I was too frightened to stay there. My life was threatened a few days ago. I'm in a safe place now. On my own but with friends close by. They insisted I move."
"Alright, that's understandable in the circumstances. I'm sure your father would approve. If you leave your number with Jenny we'll know how to contact you."
Dr. Warnock passes the phone back to the receptionist. After I give her my number I hang up and cry again, this time with relief.
When my tears have dried up, I pour myself a glass of water. I need air so I leave the warm hut and walk outside into the chilly sunshine. There are several other cabins between Billy's and the horizon where reservation life continues as normal. Smoke curls from chimneys. Washing floats and snaps in the breeze. Dogs wander aimlessly, their noses on the grass or in the air, sniffing the wind. I recognize Quil's mom in the distance who waves from her door. "Is Charlie doing okay?" she shouts, her voice traveling further than I could have imagined.
"Yes," I shout back. She waves and disappears.
So the bush telegraph has already spread the word about their good friend, Charlie Swan, which is fine by me. I walk back inside, close the door, fling myself on the bed which is more comfortable than it looks, and promptly fall asleep.
An hour later my cell beeps. I open one eye to check who has messaged me, two eyes when my brain absorbs his name. Now wide awake I pull myself into a sitting position and swing my legs off the bed.
'Hi, it's Edward. Can I call you?'
A rush of adrenaline floods through my body as I hit the letters that spell out, 'Yes.'
Edward
Eleazar knocks on the door while I'm changing into the clothes I arrived in. Carmen has cleaned them for me despite my insistence there was no need. When I got back from my hunt, I'd been unable to book a flight to Seattle from either Anchorage or Fairbanks. No seats were available going to any airports in Washington, Oregon, or Idaho for the next three days. Already travelers canceling flights to big cities are playing havoc with airline timetables. Schedules have been slashed for cost reasons. I have no alternative now but to run to Forks.
"Come in," I shout from the bathroom.
"Are you leaving tonight?" Eleazar asks as he walks in.
"I'm leaving now. I have to if I want to get to Bella before Tanya."
Eleazar doesn't respond. Instead, he takes the seat by the dressing table and taps his nails on the mirrored surface while I finish getting dressed. His thoughts tell me he is disturbed about the Quileutes and what could happen if they sense vampires in their vicinity.
"There's no other way," I insist answering his unspoken concerns. "I won't be the first vampire to trespass on Quileute territory, remember. Tanya will get there before me and will be around for much longer."
"Her presence worries me greatly, Edward. She could start a chain reaction in the werewolf gene which will upset Volterra when they get to hear of it. Suppressing the urges of our most deadly foe has taken centuries of patience. Aro will not be pleased if the wolves are coerced into rearing their ugly heads again.
Facing Eleazar now I see the concern written on his face, and not just about reigniting the werewolf gene. Pictures of Tanya and me being attacked by huge wolves are also troubling his thoughts. The images are not pretty.
"I understand your worries, Eleazar, but even Aro would be sympathetic if Bella is able to help us defend ourselves against James. If Tanya hasn't gotten to Bella first, I'll be in and out of there as fast as possible. I'm sorry, but you can't stop me. I've got to do this."
"I have no intention of stopping you. I'm just asking you to be wary of what you're walking into. I'm glad you've fed first though. We'll make a vegetarian of you yet."
I laugh and hold out my hand for Eleazar to shake. "Thanks, Eleazar. You're a true friend and I apologize again for bringing conflict to the cabin. It was not my intention."
"I know that. There's no need to apologize. Before you leave though, will you tell me what Bella said when she called you, and how did you warn her about Tanya?"
"We didn't have a chance to talk for long. She was bold with her questions though – hinting about the photograph taken of me in 1923. I didn't have a chance to warn her or tell her that I was coming. Something was happening in her house so she hung up."
"Do you think Tanya's already got there?"
"No. Even at vampire speed, she wouldn't be close yet. Bella's town has a small population spread over a wide area. Tanya won't know where she lives. She also doesn't know Bella's scent or what she looks like. That gives me an advantage. I've got the feeling folks there won't be eager to give personal information like an address to a stranger. She could threaten someone of course. I wouldn't put that past her."
"Have you a good idea where Bella and her father live?"
"Vaguely. I'll call her when I get close and ask for her address. I'll tell her I'm posting something for her to read which will explain 1923. She won't be able to resist. She's got the virus by the way. So has her father, but they're okay."
Eleazar's dark eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He understandably thinks, 'whatever next?'
"Do you still want a ride to the border?" he asks as he stands. I shake my head and pick my coat off the hook by the door.
"I can run faster, Eleazar, especially if I don't stop this time to enjoy the view. Say goodbye to Carmen for me. I'll set off via the terrace."
Eleazar leaves me then. He doesn't say goodbye. Maybe he feels emotional as there's a good chance he won't see me again. If the Quileute have already morphed into wolves by the time I get to Forks, there's a good chance I'll be ripped to shreds in the next forty-eight hours.
Coat on, cell, charger, and other personal belongings in my pockets, I step out onto the terrace ready for possibly the longest run of my life. As I look towards the western horizon I feel a strong compulsion to call Bella before I head south. Maybe the suspicion that this could be my last chance to talk to her before Tanya gets to her, or the wolves get to me, has prompted me to do this. A depressing notion but true. I text her first as she could still be in the middle of whatever happened in her house when she called me earlier. I tap …
'Hi, it's Edward. Can I call you?'
I wait about thirty seconds until her response appears.
'Yes.'
I draw in a mouthful of cold Alaskan air and press, 'Bella.'
No more waiting - you'll get the phone call at the beginning of the next chapter which is a very long one (the chapter not the phone call).
So this is a heads-up to lock yourself in a room with a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. Get the cup of tea or coffee, or wine (or gin) ready, and be prepared for a few surprises.
Joan x