Angel Fire

by L. A. Weatherly

Page 122

 

  Neither of us spoke, just then. Neither of us needed to. Later, of course, we would. In the days that followed, we talked about everything – how Alex’s deepest fear, right from the start, had been that something would happen to his team; how I’d been so scared of my angel’s actions, but somehow couldn’t talk to him about it. How Sophie hadn’t been the one who’d protected my mother after all – which panicked me when I heard, so that I had to check her again and again to reassure myself that she really was all right, even if we had no idea where she was or who with. Alex’s old crush on Kara, and the way she’d kissed him in the AK house; my own kiss with Seb. My friendship with Seb, which was never going to go away, ever – and which Alex really was fine with now. It turned out that he had been ever since the night of the terrorist attack, when he thought I’d died and had spent hours searching for me – it “kind of put things in perspective” for him, he said.

  We’d talk about all of these things later; we’d hash them out and look at them from every angle and make them all okay. . . but for now, the only thing that mattered was the two of us in the tent together. The softness of the sleeping bags, and the warmth of our bodies.

  At last the glow from the campfire was almost gone, leaving the tent cast in shadow. We’d heard Seb and Sam go to bed in the truck a long time ago; the world was quiet. Alex rolled over onto his side and lay looking down at me in the dim light, propped up on his elbow. The expression in his eyes was as serious as the first time he’d told me he loved me. He took my hand and kissed its palm, his lips pressing against my skin. . . and my heart quickened. I knew before he said it.

  “Willow, listen. . . ” He stroked a strand of my hair back. “I know we said we wanted to wait until it could be perfect, but—”

  “This is perfect,” I interrupted. I touched his face. “We’re here together. It couldn’t possibly be more perfect. ”

  Alex didn’t say anything, but I caught a wave of his emotions as he bent down and kissed me, and my breath caught with their intensity. Then he pulled away, stretching down to the bottom of the tent. I raised myself up, admiring the beautiful lines of his body as he reached into his bag and pulled something out.

  He came back up and put the small box he was holding to one side – and the expression in his eyes as he turned to me made my heart twist. Alex. Oh, Alex. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me; his heart was beating as hard as mine was.

  “No, wait,” he murmured suddenly. Straightening up, he reached across me for our pile of clothes, fumbled in the pocket of the grey trousers he’d been wearing.

  “Here, sit up,” he said softly. I did, the sleeping bag slipping off me with a rustle. I saw a flash of silver in his hand, and my eyes widened.

  “You kept it,” I whispered. I reached up to touch the cool facets of my pendant as he fastened the chain around my neck. My fingers clasped around it tightly. “I thought you’d – throw it away, or—”

  “I tried to. I couldn’t leave it behind. ” He kept his hands on my neck for a moment, his forehead resting against mine. “Willow, things feel more uncertain than ever now,” he said finally. “But I love you. For as long as I live – if that’s fifty years from now, or just next week – I’ll love you. ”

  I could hardly get the words out. “I love you too,” I said. I kissed him, our lips lingering together. Then I swallowed, my hand on the back of his neck and my crystal gleaming between us. “And. . . let’s stop talking for a while, okay?”

  When I woke up, it felt like early morning; the blue nylon sides of the tent had a faint glow to them. I was lying in Alex’s arms, our bare limbs entwined. I lay without moving for a few minutes, gazing at the rise and fall of his chest; the curve of his dark eyebrows. I kissed his tattoo gently, loving the feel of his warm skin. The pain of the ruined city was still there, like a heavy weight inside of me – but now there was this new joy too. The night before had been. . . well, let’s just say it was worth waiting for. Very, very worth waiting for. And it showed every sign of being something that would get even better.

  I stretched across Alex and found my clothes, squirming in the sleeping bag as I put them on. Drowsily, he opened his eyes and stroked my arm. “Where are you going?”

  “Just outside for a minute,” I kissed his cheek. “I’ll be right back. ”

  The morning air hit me coolly as I crawled out of the tent, zipping it shut behind me. The truck sat a little way off – no one else was awake yet. I started down to the stream. . . but then I saw a break in the trees and stopped. Though I hadn’t noticed it the night before, you could see Mexico City from here too.

  I walked over, drawn helplessly by the shattered view, and stood staring down at the remains of the city for a long time. And as I did, a chill ran over me. There were no helicopters flying over it, no sign of relief aid. What did that mean? Even if no one else in Mexico could help, what were things like in the United States, if they hadn’t sent aid after such a major catastrophe? The only answers that came to mind weren’t really ones that I wanted to dwell on.

  I thought I saw a few angels circling over the ruins, though – bright, moving glimmers that somehow I knew weren’t just a trick of the light. A shiver went over me as I watched them.

  Footsteps on the grass, and then Alex was there; he had on jeans and a T-shirt, his dark hair still rumpled from sleep. Without speaking, he put his arms around me from behind and drew me back against him as we both stared down at what used to be the largest city in the world. I knew from the tightening of his muscles that he’d noticed the lack of helicopters too, but he didn’t comment. My chest felt empty as I watched the tiny angels glinting over the devastation. The sorrow I felt was too great for tears now – too deep for anything that could be verbalized.

  “Okay, enough,” said Alex finally. He turned us both around so that we were facing the mountains to the north. “Look that way instead,” he said, his voice firm. “That’s the way we’re going. ”

  The view was clear, uncluttered, and something in me eased. Somehow, looking at the soaring mountains with the sunrise on them made me able to breathe again. Alex was right. We couldn’t live our lives looking back – no matter what, we had to move forward to whatever waited for us. Alex and me, Seb, Sam, Liz, whoever else we managed to recruit – we all had to keep moving forward, or else we were lost.

  After a long time, I cleared my throat. “So anyway, when we get to Nevada. . . I think we should rethink your dad’s rule. ”

  Alex glanced down at me and smiled – the first real smile I’d seen on his face in a long time. “You know what? It’s already been rethought and completely ditched,” he said. And he wrapped his arms around me and we stood looking up at the mountains, with the rising rays of the sun lighting them from the east.