Summary: A ransom leads to a very long weekend for Walker and Alex
Disclaimer: I do not own them
A/N: First attempt at a Walker fic, be nice
Reviewers
becky: O.o errr sorry it is work, and kids taking all my time
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Person of this world: These ideas, are from my evil mind of course LOL.
anolly: O.o thankies for the plot
tigerlily: Culliver, one word evil! and yes that is an idea
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Chapter 9
Walker wrapped the blanket he managed to snag out of the back of the Dodge Ram around Alex and started to walk, following the tire tracks. Culliver thought him stupid and yet, in his insanity, forgot Walker could indeed find his way back. Walker's only problem was Alex. If he left her here and went after Culliver, she would freeze to death and die, and if he took her along then she would slow him up. Walker knew there was no other option; of course he would take her along, but it would be a slow pace. He was not at his best, and Alex, he feared, was slipping away from him. Trudging onward, he half carried half dragged her along.
"Walker, I can walk."
"Alex, you are weak and the poison circulates through your body that much more as you move. It is best if you let me help you."
Walker knew Alex was stubborn, almost to the point he had never spoken to her again after the hearing that day so long ago. Now he found her independence and stubborness to be one of the traits he loved best about her. Looking up, Walker realized they could not have gone more than a few hundred yards and already his head was spinning. Stooping over, he grabbed a handful of the snow and put it in his mouth. That would fight off the dehydration, now if he could only find food.
Walker and Alex walked for over three miles by Walker's guess, and it had taken them an extremely long time.
"At this rate we will never reach the cabin," Walker said in frustration. He didn't know Alex was paying attention, and the hurt tone of her voice made his heart crumble.
"Walker, please leave me here. You can move faster without me," she said, but the moan of pain that fell from her lips brought Walker to a halt.
Walker laid Alex down in the snow, fumbling with her shirt, his fingers numbed by the cold. After checking her pulse and heartbeat, he sighed in relief. It was racing, but at least it was beating. He knew Culliver had driven for many miles in the truck and that they would not make it back to the cabin before nightfall.
"Alex, I have to leave you here for a couple minutes so I can find us shelter for the night."
Alex nodded her head, her eyes closed in exhaustion. Walker hated to leave her, but they would freeze to death without shelter; in the back of his mind, he knew they could freeze to death even with it. Clearing the snow away from her, he wrapped the blanket underneath her chin and kissed her lightly on her lips.
"I love you Alex," he said before walking away.
Walker walked back towards the cabin. He knew there was a clubhouse he and his uncle Ray had built years ago when he was a child. One of the walls was gone and the other three had cracks in them, but it was shelter.
His legs numb from the cold and his stomach growling and cramping from lack of food and water made Walker's trek to the small building painful. He knew he had suffered worse. He wanted revenge. He wanted Culliver's head, and that hatred for the man drove him on. His sights soon fell on the old clubhouse and he walked over to it.
The inside was just as he remebered, littered with sticks half carved into with various things. His Uncle Ray had been teaching him how to use his knife, and Walker never had the heart to throw any of the things away. The inside was also covered in the four inches of snow. Using a tree limb he had broken off, Walker went to work clearing the dirt floor of snow.
After more than twenty minutes a small section of the floor was free from snow. It was still wet, so Walker went back outside and broke off a few more branches and threw them on the floor to cover it. The leaves would dry quicker than the dirt. Once he was finished with that, Walker found the remnants of the fallen wall. The boards were rotting, having laid in the forest for so long, but they still held together. Walker lifted the wall and propped it against the side of the clubhouse. He packed and weaved branches to fill as many holes as he could and then stood back.
It was a crude structure, one that could blow down easily with a strong gust of wind, but it was all they had. Walker left and went back to get Alex, knowing he had already left her too long.
Alex was cold, not cold like the time she and Walker had gone on the fishing trip and she had fallen in, but colder than she had ever been before. Her teeth were chattering so hard she thought they would break, and yet she could not stop them. Her hands and feet were numb to the touch, and her head felt as if someone were using it for a battering ram. She coughed, and it sent spasms of pain through her body. Her ribs protested with each intake of air, and all she wanted to do was sleep.
She wondered where Walker was and when he was coming back. She thought Walker was too good for her. She had never told him that, but her insecurities always came to light at times like these. He was a strong man, with a nice house and a good job. What could she offer him?
So many thoughts ran through Alex's mind, but the one thought that was at the forefront was that she loved Walker. As she sat there thinking, her breathing started to slow. Alex Cahill was dying, the poison taking away her life, her zeal, her happiness. Slowly she closed her eyes and saw Walker. She was at peace and a smile came easily as she drifted off.
Walker trudged back through the ankle deep snow. He was grateful at least it had stopped coming down, for then the shelter would not have to be cleared again tonight; his arms and legs were too tired. He spotted Alex just where he had left her huddled against the tree, wrapped in the blanket. As he neared her, he noticed a smile across her face and one of his rare smiles came across his.
"Alex, wake up, I found us shelter for the night," he said, nudging her gently, but Alex did not stir.
"Alex?"
Walker nudged her a bit more firmly, but she lay there limply. He checked her pulse and found it to be slow, almost as if it were slowing down to come to a stop. His heart racing, he grabbed her up in his arms and took off running, his fatigue forgotten.
The trek, which had been tedious before, was now a race to find the clubhouse. His sense honed in on the task, his legs pumping up and down with the added weight of Alex across his shoulders. The clubhouse came within sight and Walker headed for it. He laid Alex down on the snow and moved the wall. Placing her inside, he went back and propped the wall up.
"Alex," he called to her, hoping to hear her reply back.
He got nothing and his heart leapt into his throat. Checking her pulse again, he found it barely beating; her breaths were slowing down.
"Aex! Don't you dare leave me now. Come on, Alex, fight," he yelled.
Alex's lips were turning blue, not from lack of air, but from the cold, her face as pale as the snow outside. Walker's insides were churning; he thought he would be sick at the mere thought of losing the one woman whom he loved, trusted with his innermost thoughts.
Going over to the corner, he found two of the carvings he had made. One held the name of his father; one, of his mother. Walker had made statues of them when he was only thirteen. His uncle had suggested it after he had honed his skills. Walker never showed them to anyone, aways keeping them to himself. He grabbed the two statues up and began rubbing them together. They were damp, but the determination of Walker was hell bent.
His heart sighed with relief ten minutes later when the statues began to smolder. Quickly tossing on the nearby pine straw, Walker hoped it would catch. He knew the pine straw was damp, but he held to hope. When the small flames caught, his heart sighed. Placing more straw on the fire, he began throwing other carvings on the pile. He regretted nothing, not if it would save Alex.
"Alex," he called to her. "Can you hear me? Please, open your eyes."
Alex shuddered in his arms, but she opened her eyes a slit. "Walker, so cold," she whispered.
"I know Alex, I know, just hang in there for me."
Alex did not want to hang in there. The pull of her dreams with Walker standing on the side of the lake were too tempting, but she could hear him speaking to her. When she looked she could see his lips moving, but she heard no sound coming out. She smiled at the wrinkles of worry etched in his brow. Walker always had been a worry wart, despite the calm demeanor he portrayed in front of everyone else. Alex closed her eyes and gave into the dream, and Walker, seeing her breathing slow to a stop, panicked.
"Alex!" he screamed, it echoing throughout the forest. Placing Alex down on the ground, he checked, and his fears were true. Alex was no longer breathing, and tears welled in his eyes. How much more abuse could her body take? Choking back tears, he began chest compressions, until he heard her gasp in the fitful breath. It was only after relief flooded through him at the sound of her breathing again did Walker notice the welts. They were everywhere, the size of a man's belt -- Culliver's belt. They were raw, and in many spots dried blood littered the open wounds.
Again Walker's heart clinched, but this time it was hatred that caused it. Hate was an evil thing, but hate Roger Culliver he did. He knew should he lay his eyes on the man again one of them would not come out of it alive. Hearing Alex scream out in pain made Walker realize he was squeezing her too tight. He wondered how much longer she had.
When he thought of her, he imagined picnics out at the ranch, her walking down the aisle to him, their children playing in the fields surrounding the ranch. He could not give up hope, but hope seemed futile. He had never told Alex the depth of his love for her, how he watched her while she ate, enjoying her pinky being held up when she drank coffee, how she smiled at his jokes, and her laugh that made his heart almost burst from love. If they got out of this alive he would fall to his knees and tell her everything; no more games, no more hiding his feelings, he would tell her just how much he loved her, which was more than life itself.
Roger and his brother, Chuck Culliver, laughed and joked about Walker.
"He will freeze to death out there. The animals of the forest should take care of the rest."
Both men laughed and carried on the entire trip back to the cabin. Neither notcied Trivette's car coming up the other road. They would laugh now, but they would not be laughing for long.