ChosenOne: Hahaha…I dare you to fly to PA. Come on, come on over so I can strangle your neck! I am STILL waiting for that blasted chapter!
Taya: Lol…that was purely accidental. What German and Dutch words did you find? I hope they weren't offensive words. Lol.
Marguerite: Do not fear, my friend! insert big smile Thanks for the review!
Jessie: I'm going to try my best to get to the Con, but I highly doubt I'll be able to go. frowns I would love to meet the people on the board, especially you and TLC. The three of us would have such a blast!
MMJ: Yes, I enjoy tormenting you. That's my goal in life. Lol. And don't fret, my friend. Marguerite won't be alone for long.
Windsor: Thanks!
Barbie: Your questions will be answered in time. Yet, as for where the rest of the group is: back at the tree house. Remember, Roxton and Marguerite weren't supposed to run off. They were working in the garden. So, the others may not even realize they're missing, yet.
Kat: Shh, don't tell the others. wink
Lady M: Thank you very much. And this is what's going to happen…
Chapter Six
The Weight of Two
Marguerite huddled down in the tall grass, her chest heaving with her harsh, rapid breathing. She had darted through the jungle, twigs snagging in her dark tresses and thorns grating her tender flesh, hell bent on disappearing into the wilderness. Yet, after making it a safe mile away, she had stopped, unable to take another step. Dead or not, she couldn't just leave him.
You've grown soft, she had told herself. Yet, even she knew it was more than that.
So, the considered "self-preserving heiress" had backtracked, sprinting across the uneven terrain toward the village. It was where she was now, crouched a few yards from the trail that led down into the valley where the huts were. However, she wasn't aiming for the village. She was searching for the cave where the warriors had taken Roxton.
Her emerald eyes fell on a thick cover of dangling vines and a smile tugged at her mouth. There it was: the cave. She glanced around her, checking to be sure the coast was clear before scurrying around the large trees. Coming upon the entrance, she strained her ears, listening for any sign of danger. Hearing nothing, she crept inside, sweeping away the greenery that hung over the door.
She gasped, her knees nearly collapsing under her sudden weakness. The round room was dimly lit with torches that aligned the walls, flames and shadows dancing erotically across his ashen face. Marguerite, her arms already reaching out, stumbled in her haste as she rushed over to the stone platform in the center of the chamber. "Oh, John," she murmured, stroking his cold, pale cheek.
Even in death, he looked unsettled as though he still carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Marguerite found it increasingly heartbreaking that not even eternal slumber could erase his guilt. She softly lowered her head, touching forehead to forehead with the man who had saved her life so many times in the past. "I'm so sorry, John," she whispered, squeezing her eyes closed. "If anyone, it should've been me." She delicately placed a chaste kiss on his lips.
A clatter from outside shot her up. There would be time for mourning later. She wrapped her arms under his, clinging to his shoulders as she hauled him off the platform. "I won't leave you behind. We're both going home," she insisted, walking backwards as she dragged him, his shoes scraping across the floor.
Reaching the exit, she set him down briefly in order to poke her head out and scan the area. Seeing nothing, she quickly grabbed onto him again and yanked him out into the open. "You weigh a lot more than you look, mister. Would it kill you to drop a couple pounds?"
She laughed bitingly. "Even while lugging around your corpse, I forget that you're dead."
She retreated back toward the river knowing there wasn't any possible way she could drag him up the giant hillside. All the while, she kept her eyes trained on the trees and bushes as she continued to stagger backward. Finally making it to the water's edge, she gently lowered him to the dirt. She caressed his face, tears of frustration stinging at her eyes.
"How the Hell am I supposed to get you home," she demanded. "I can't carry you up the cliff. Damn it, Roxton! How could you do this to me?" She pounded on his chest bitterly. "What's the matter with you! You knew better than to die! How could you leave me alone!"
A sharp cry pierced the air and Marguerite whipped her head back, peering into the trees. She could hear the commotion of the warriors. "Damn it," she grumbled. She frantically glanced around her, her eyes landing on a large branch. Desperate, she pushed the branch into the water and then latched onto Roxton, rolling him into the river.
Marguerite, clenching Roxton, grasped the branch and held onto it. She kicked her feet, propelling them down the river. Struggling to keep his head afloat, Marguerite lost her grip on the branch and they sunk under the waves. Using her one free hand to brush at the water, she kicked viciously, breaking the surfacing and gasping for air.
The branch had drifted away from her reach.
They tumbled in the water, sinking once more. Marguerite – her lungs screaming for oxygen – fought to retrieve her balance. Quite probably, the river wasn't too deep and she could stand, but the constant rush of the current made it impossible for her to even try.
It was then she realized her fatal error: the man was dead. It didn't matter whether or not his head was above water. Now she may have just sentenced her self to death for there was no way she could swim with the weight of his lifeless body. And there was no chance in Hell she was letting him go.
End Chapter Six