by Beth Manz
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the attendant announced from the front of the cabin, unable to disguise the slight trembling in her voice. “We need to move a bit faster.” Her worried gaze skimmed over the passengers. “Please make sure your seat belts are secured firmly across your laps, then lean forward, lock your arms around your knees, and place your face against your legs."
There were murmurs of disbelief and even anger throughout the cabin as the passengers obeyed the instructions of the attendant. But Jim tuned them out and concentrated only on his partner.
Blair was zipping his pack closed, preparing to slip it back under his seat when Jim realized the kid had forgotten to take off his glasses. Just as Blair leaned down with the pack, ready to stuff it back into place, Jim placed a gentle hand against his partner’s shoulder. “Your glasses,” he whispered close to his ear.
Blair looked up at him, his eyes wide behind the wire rims. “What?” he asked, obviously not understanding what he was being told.
“You need to take off your glasses.”
Hands shaking, Blair reached up and pulled the eyeglasses from his face. “Thanks, man,” he muttered as he shoved them into their case, shaking his head in disbelief. “I…I forgot I put them on.”
“It’s okay, buddy.”
Jim made sure Blair was in the proper crash position before leaning forward himself. Glancing sideways at his partner, he offered an apologetic smile. “All I wanted to do was take you on a quiet, relaxing vacation."
Blair stared at him, then slowly some of the fear left his eyes and he even managed a small grin. "Quiet? Relaxing? Us?"
Jim laughed at the undeniable truth beneath Blair's teasing words. Then--not caring that he was probably breaking several FAA rules--he reached over, slipped his right arm across Blair's back and shoulders, and pulled his friend close.
Blair leaned into him. "Oh, man, Jim," he whispered intensely, "I can't believe we're actually going to crash!"
"I know." It didn't take sentinel hearing to pick up on the fear in Sandburg's voice. But his friend wasn't panicking and Jim felt a surge of pride toward him.
Shutting out the increasing sounds of engine roar and the agitated voices of the other passengers, Jim focused his hearing on the one beacon that never failed to calm him--Blair's heartbeat. He picked up on it easily; it was elevated, of course, but still served to calm the sentinel, to keep him in control. He closed his eyes and listened to that heartbeat--hoped this wasn't going to be the last few minutes the two men would have together--hoped to hear that heartbeat for years and years to come….
"This is going to kill Naomi," Blair said softly, drawing Jim's attention away from his own morbid thoughts.
"Shhhhh. Don't talk like that," Ellison assured him. "We're going to be fine."
Blair shook his head and huffed out another small laugh. "Think you could send a little of that optimism my way?"
Jim's answer was lost in a sudden roar of engines. The plane lurched violently then dropped. Around him, screams permeated the air, but the only sound he cared about was the small gasp that escaped Blair's lips. He tightened his hold on his friend and pulled him closer.
"Jim," Blair whispered once the aircraft had evened out again. "I feel like there's so much I need to say to you…."
"No," Jim breathed, knowing where this was going. He squeezed Blair's shoulders tightly. "You don't have to say anything, Chief."
"But there are things I want you to know….”
"Anything you could tell me, I already know." Jim raised his body away from his legs a bit and tapped at his heart with his fingers. "In here." He smiled at his partner.
Blair looked into his eyes, then returned Jim's smile and leaned closer. "Thanks, man. I feel the same way."
"I know you do."
"Jim?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever happens…. Do you think that…that we'll be together?"
Jim looked steadily into Blair's eyes. "I'm sure of it."
He felt Blair relax slightly beneath his arm. "Then I'm not so scared anymore."
"Me either," Jim agreed, giving him another squeeze.
Again, the plane lurched and dropped for what seemed to be an eternity before it evened out. Both men knew there wouldn't be many more drops like that before they reached the ground.
"Well, man, looks like this is it.”
Jim extended his left hand over to Blair. "Here. Give me your hand, Chief."
Without hesitation, Blair slipped his hand into Jim's and held on tight.
Jim curled his fingers around Blair's. "Just hang onto me, buddy. We're going to be all right."
He shifted in his seat, moving to cover Blair with as much of his body as he could given the confines of the seat and the belt across his lap. He rested his cheek against Blair's head and squeezed more tightly to the hand he held within his own. Then he braced himself for the inevitable.
Part Two
"Jim? Come on, Jim. Wake up.”
The familiar voice pulled at him, drawing him away from the dark void in which he was lost, leading him back to awareness.
“Just open your eyes, man. Open your eyes and let me know you’re okay.”
The voice came again and this time the edge of worry and fear in it sent a chill through him. What’s happened? Struggling to do as he was asked, he dragged his eyes open, blinking against the harsh light that threatened to blind him.
A shadow fell across him as a figure moved to block the light.
“That’s it, Jim. You’re almost there.”
And as Jim blinked his eyes, focusing on the man above him, recognition flooded through him. “Blair?”
“Yeah, man, it’s me. I’ve been trying to wake you up for about ten minutes now. You scared me to death.” Gripping his arm, he helped the sentinel into an upright position. “Just take it slow,” he coaxed.
Jim nodded, still having a hard time piecing together what exactly had happened. He glanced around the small clearing they were in, at the lush greenery of the forest that pressed in all around them, but had no idea how they had gotten here. As he rose slowly to his feet, Blair still keeping a tight grip on his arm, his mind suddenly flashed back to the last thing he remembered. A plane. We were on a plane…crashing…
“Are you all right?” Jim blurted out, his gaze darting to his partner, moving over him, searching for injury.
“I’m fine,” Blair said. “We’re both fine. Well, I think we are, at least.”
Jim’s brow creased in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” But even as the words left him, he realized he couldn’t see any other survivors from the accident. “Where is everyone? The other passengers? The crew?”
“Um…. That’s not all that’s missing, Jim.”
And as Jim did a slow turn, he realized…. “There’s no plane. No wreckage.”
“You noticed that too, huh?” Blair ran a shaky hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “It’s like we were plucked off that plane and just left here,” he finished softly.
Jim nodded, sweeping his gaze over the area again. Extending his vision, he searched once more for any sign of wreckage or victims from the crash. He then cocked his head to the side and listened, but no unusual sounds reached him. He used his sense of smell next, expecting to encounter the odor of burning fuselage or gasoline. Again, he found nothing.
“Where are we, man?” Blair muttered.
“I’m not sure but...there’s something about this place….” Something...familiar.
Sudden understanding flashed through the sentinel. Instantly he recognized the place, knew exactly where they were.
He looked down at his partner. Blair stood before him, his wide eyes studying the landscape around them. Jim could see the minute shaking in his hands, the worry on his face.
“Blair,” he said finally, taking a step closer to the younger man. “I know where we are. I’ve been here before in the last few years--twice before. But I was alone then.”
&n
bsp; “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You encouraged me to come here. To accept who I am.”
Sandburg's eyes grew suddenly larger. “Oh, no,” he said, taking a step back from Jim. “You’re wrong. I can’t be here with you. I can’t!”
“I’m not wrong, Chief.” Jim reached out and gripped Blair's upper arms, holding tightly, preventing further retreat. “I know this place--the way it sounds, the way it smells, the way it feels. This is where I came when I went on my spiritual walks as a sentinel. Where I had to decide whether I wanted to be a sentinel or not.”
Blair was shaking his head adamantly, his body rigid. “I shouldn’t be here. I—“
The words died in his throat as a deep growl reached them. Both men jerked toward the sound. There--just a few feet from where they now stood--sat the panther Jim had become so familiar with since the return of his sentinel abilities. His gaze moved appreciatively over the strong animal with its slick black coat and intelligent eyes.
But as his gaze locked on the animal that lay at the panther’s feet, Jim’s heart lurched in his chest. It was the wolf--the wolf he'd seen in his visions before. The wolf that represented Sandburg's spirit guide. The normally virile animal lay on its side, its breathing harsh and labored, the half-closed eyes staring out at nothing. And as Jim watched, the panther leaned down and nuzzled gently at the wolf’s neck. A low whine emitted from the sick animal, but it did not stir further.
Blair took a tentative step toward the fallen wolf. “What’s wrong with it?”
“He is dying.”
Jim spun toward the familiar voice. Incacha stood just beyond the trees, wearing the tribal dress and paint of the Chopec tribe. The shaman stepped out of the underbrush and walked slowly toward Jim.
“Hello, Enquiri. You look well, my old friend.”
Jim smiled in greeting. “You left me in good hands.” But as he reached out to place a hand on Blair’s shoulder, he realized his guide was no longer beside him. In those few moments when Jim had turned away, Blair had moved to kneel beside the wolf. The younger man was leaning over the animal, his hands running through the thick fur. Why didn’t I hear him move? Why wasn’t I aware of it?
He shook away the disturbing thoughts and gave his full attention to the scene before him. The panther sat beside Blair, its protective gaze locked on the figure of man and beast. And in that moment, Jim knew his guide had never been better protected. Yet the assurance of Blair's safety was coupled with a strong urge to take Blair away from this place, back to the loft where everything was safe, familiar.
“He is dying,” Incacha said again, but as Jim turned to look at the shaman, he realized the Chopec's gaze was locked on Blair, not the wolf.
“No,” Jim argued against what Incacha was implying, his tone adamant. “Blair's fine. He’s not—“
“He has denied a part of who he is.” Incacha’s gaze shifted up to Jim. “Just as you denied it in the past.”
Shame washed through Jim. “I thought I was protecting him.”
“You can protect him, Enquiri, but you cannot decide for him.” He stepped closer to Jim. “Your doubts have become his. Now that part of him--the part he denies--is dying…just as the wolf is dying.”
“How can I stop it?”
Jim turned. Blair stood beside him again, his determined gaze locked on Incacha. If the anthropologist harbored any fear or surprise at seeing the dead Chopec again, it wasn't evident in his tone or his demeanor.
"You have lost your way, young shaman," Incacha answered Blair's question. "Both you and your sentinel suffer because of it. You must find your way again. You must decide."
“What is that supposed to mean?” Blair demanded, his hands held out beseechingly. “Find my way to what? Decide what?”
Incacha smiled at the younger man, seemingly undisturbed by his outburst. “You must find your way. You must decide....”
And in less time than it took Jim to blink his eyes, Incacha and the spirit animals were gone.
“Great! This is just great!” Blair paced in front of Jim, gesturing wildly. “'You must find your way,’” he mimicked Incacha. “‘You must decide.’” He shook his head. “You know, that’s just about as helpful as his passing on the way of the shaman to me before he died. Thanks for nothing!” he shouted.
“You’re angry, Blair.”
Sandburg spun toward Jim. “You’re damn right I’m angry! And don’t tell me to calm down, because I think I have a right to be angry about this.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Jim said, shaking his head, a bewildered expression lining his features. “When you get angry, your heart beats harder, faster. It’s a noticeable difference, Chief, at least to me. It always hits me like a brick wall. But this time...right now.…” His worried gaze locked on Blair. “This time, I can’t hear it at all.”
Blair closed the small gap between them as the strain in Jim’s voice became obvious to him. “It’s okay, man. It’s probably just this place.” Reaching out, he placed a gentle hand on his partner’s arm. “It’s messing with your senses, that’s all. You just—“
“No!” Jim blurted out, taking a step away from him. “I can hear water running in a stream a half mile west of here. I can hear a bird building its nest a quarter mile to the east. But I can’t hear your heart beating and you're standing right in front of me!”
“Relax, man," Blair soothed, moving to close the distance between them again. "My heart's beating just fine. I can guarantee that.”
“Then why can’t I hear it?” Jim demanded.
Reaching down and grasping Jim’s hand, Blair brought it upward and placed it against his chest, palm flat over his heart. “Can you feel that?”
Jim closed his eyes and a deep breath escaped him. “Yes,” he whispered, the lines in his forehead lessening, his body visibly relaxing. He opened his eyes and looked down at Sandburg. “I can feel it, Chief.”
“See? I told you it was beating.” Blair grinned up at Jim. “Next time maybe you’ll trust me on that.”
“It still doesn’t explain why I can’t hear it,” Jim said, making no move to withdraw his hand from his guide’s chest.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure it has something to do with this whole ‘finding my way’ thing.” He let out a frustrated breath, realizing he wasn't really sure about anything right now.
Jim nodded, finally moving his hand, shifting it away from Blair’s chest and up to his shoulder. “So, what do you want to do about that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Chief, I think it’s pretty obvious that whatever we’re going to do next has to be your call. So…what’s it going to be?”
Blair glanced around the clearing they were in. “I don’t think I have much choice here. I guess...I guess I have to ‘find my way.’” He turned to face a range of low mountains visible in the west. “That direction,” he said finally, turning to look up at Jim again. “We need to go in that direction.”
Jim glanced over his guide’s shoulder, narrowing his eyes slightly, and Blair knew he was searching ahead, extending his vision as far as his sentinel abilities would allow. “What’s that way?” he asked after several moments, focusing his attention on his guide again.
“I don’t know,” Blair answered honestly. “But whatever it is I’m supposed to find, it’s in that direction.”
Jim nodded. “Okay, Chief. Lead the way.”
They had been walking for hours, Blair in front, Jim two steps behind. The sentinel couldn’t see any distinguishable trail through the deep forest, wasn’t sure if they were traveling in the right direction or not, didn’t know for sure if there even was a direction in which they needed to be going. But it was obvious his guide did. Blair moved with a purpose and confidence that couldn’t be denied.
As Jim shoved a branch aside, he caught sight of the panther. The regal animal was moving stealthily through the trees just to the right of Jim and Blair. The sentinel had seen the animal more than once thr
oughout the day, always out of the corner of his eye or just as it was disappearing behind a tree or beneath a bush. It shadowed the two men with ease, its pace matching their own.
But he had yet to see the wolf.
He had heard it though--several times. The low, plaintive howl had echoed all around them, and each time it sounded, Blair’s gait would slow slightly, his steps becoming uncertain. He recovered rapidly though, and his stride always took on its former confidence without too much of a delay. But the affect that the sound--that the wolf itself--had on his guide was unmistakable.