by Debra Dunbar
It wasn’t Brent. It was a girl with reddish hair and a nose piercing. She was wearing jeans and a snug blue shirt. Her arms had been folded across her chest, and resting in the spot they made was a gold chain and a packet with one of those tiny freshwater pearls the jewelry stores give away to cruise ship patrons. I recognized her — she was one of the teenagers. And she couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen.
Tears stung my eyes as I covered her back up with sand. She’d been buried. They’d taken the time to leave a few mementos and cover this girl’s body. That must mean that at least some of them weren’t terribly injured. I didn’t see any blood in the area or signs of a struggle. I didn’t see any other graves in the sand or out-of-place items. This must have been where at least some of them had landed. And the only logical place for them to go from here, the only place promising shelter from this horrible heat, was the mountains.
There was more churned-up sand heading into the distance, but I waited, knowing that Raphael would soon miss me at the crossing point and come to find me. Soon enough I saw the angel, outspread wings casting long shadows on the sand as he approached. I waved the phone in the air and after he ran to meet up with me I told him what I’d found.
“It won’t be light for much longer.” Raphael looked at the churned up sand leading into the distance. “Let’s follow this track as far as we can. Hopefully there’s somewhere we can shelter for the night. There’s a sandstorm in the distance, and I don’t know enough about weather patterns here to tell if it’s coming our way or how fast it’s moving.”
A sandstorm. I began to panic. “We’ve got to hurry. If this path gets smoothed over, we’ll have no way of telling where they went, if they made it to the mountain range or turned off somewhere along the way.”
Raphael started walking and I followed. “That’s not the only worry. Unless we make it to the mountains we won’t have shelter from this storm. I suggest we keep moving even after dark. Your night vision should be just as good as mine, and if not I can create a globe of light. I’ve no desire to be out here, exposed, during a sandstorm.”
Me either. Raphael stepped up the pace until I was nearly jogging alongside him. He stretched one of his wings up and out, pulling me close to his side. Then he curved it around my shoulders, warming me against the rapidly dropping temps.
The sun seemed to vanish within seconds, leaving the landscape black with gray from the light of two moons. It was so cold that each inhalation stung my nose. I shivered and Raphael wrapped me tighter in his wing.
He was hurt, exhausted, and here he was, warming me, practically carrying me as we moved forward. I reached out with my spirit-self to touch the damaged parts of him and felt him wince.
“Sorry.” I didn’t mean to hurt him. Honestly, he was scaring me. I felt like he was pushing ahead on sheer willpower alone. He was my anchor in all this, and seeing him hurt and tired worried me to the core.
“No, it feels good. I like when you touch me.”
I felt his smile and again reached out to brush against him, soothing the hurt, stroking and merging portions of myself, pouring every bit of my feelings for him in each touch.
“Okay, now you better stop it. Unless you intend on doing that blow-job right now. In that case, keep going.”
I laughed, then stumbled as my foot caught something. Don’t let it be another body. Was it a body? Raphael stopped, pulling his wing away to stoop down at my feet. I immediately began shivering, my teeth chattering in the cold. I’d lived my whole life in Alaska. I was used to cold temperatures. My inability to shrug this off sank in and I realized how low the temperature had dropped. Was it forty degrees? It had been spring back home. The locals were practically in tank tops, but the tourists in the store had been in T-shirts and light jackets. None of that would be enough to be comfortable in this. Brent would be fine in his wolf form. Actually if they found shelter and were able to huddle up against him in his wolf form, the humans might have had a chance of pulling through this with only some minor frostbite.
But this was night two. Two nights of this, hungry and probably dehydrated. Was that a body at my feet? I wouldn’t be surprised.
“Is it…someone?” I whispered to Raphael, as if using my quiet voice would make it all go away.
“It’s a purse.” He stood and handed it to me. “A tiny purse. I guess women use them kind of like wallets?”
I took it from him, squinting at it in the darkness. My night vision was not as good as Raphael’s and all I could make out was some kind of leather wristlet. I frowned trying to remember. A woman and two boys. She’d had a bag, but I think it was one of those big, cross-body ones. An older man. Brent. That woman waiting for the bus to go hiking or rock climbing or something. No, she had a backpack. Two girls, late teens or early twenties. They both had wristlets. So possibly one of them.
No woman would have left her purse behind, even if she’d found herself suddenly transported from a tourist shop in Alaska to some interplanetary desert, but a wristlet? I opened it up and squinted to make out the contents. Money. A door pass key. A driver’s license. It was too dark to make out the picture, so I stuffed the wristlet in my backpack for later.
“At least we know we’re ’on the right track,” I told Raphael. A sudden gust of wind whipped my hair to the side and I realized with a sinking heart that we were out of time.
“Come on.” Raphael grabbed me so fast that I nearly dropped the backpack, yanking me up into his arms. Then he sort-of ran-flew, using the wind at our backs to push him forward and slightly upward. The wind picked up, sand whirling around the angel and stinging me in the face. The storm was changing direction, and we’d soon lose our speed-boost. Sure enough Raphael began to struggle, his feet now firmly on the ground as he powered forward against the wind. Since he could no longer use them to propel himself forward, he wrapped his wings around me, sheltering me in a cocoon of warmth that protected me from the sand.
I realized he was going to continue this way until he either found shelter, the storm passed, or he dropped from exhaustion. He’d keep going, carrying me, keeping me warm and safe while he bore the entire brunt of the storm and the cold.
I wasn’t used to being the weak one, and I certainly wasn’t some princess, some damsel in distress to be saved, but from a practical standpoint there was no alternative. Walking I’d just slow us down, and I doubted I’d be able to withstand the storm as well as he was. So instead I snuggled into his warmth, soothing him the only way I could, by connecting my spirit-self with his. I felt him respond, somehow strengthened by my touch, so I continued. Yeah, I was probably turning him on, but if we were going to freeze or be sand-blasted to death, might as well fool around a bit before we died.
You’re a very bad angel, you know that? I heard him in my mind.
Can you hear me? How are you doing? Is the storm any better?
Worse. I’m just walking blind right now, hoping that I’m not going in circles.
I felt tears sting my eyes. We were going to die. He was going to die and it was my fault for insisting he open a gateway, for dragging us into this mess.
Hush. I’m three billion years old. I’m fully capable of saying no, although that’s a very difficult word for me to say to you. I made my choice, and I’m here of my own free will. Don’t blame yourself.
I wasn’t sure that made me feel any better. The storm was worse. How long could he hold out? How long could he keep this up?
I may look like a pretty-boy, but I’m tough. I’ll outlast the storm. I do want to warn you that your friend, the humans, they may be in trouble if they’ve been caught out in this without shelter.
I wouldn’t have found the cell phone if there had been a previous storm like this, or the path. I’m sure they’ve arrived at some shelter by this point.
If one or more of them were hurt, it would reduce their chances of surviving even further. If it were Brent, he might have been able to heal himself, but an injured human wouldn’t be so
lucky. Hurt, walking miles in the sand, hungry, dehydrated, making it through a subzero temperature night and possibly this sandstorm.
But I’d promised to bring Brent and the others back. I needed to know. And if one or two had somehow managed to make it, then I owed it to them to keep trying.
Although right now I wasn’t doing squat. It was Raphael doing all the work, and he didn’t even know those humans or have any responsibility for them. He didn’t even like Brent.
There’s something odd in the storm pattern. I think something is breaking up the velocity, altering the direction of the wind. We might be close to the mountains.
I caught my breath, understanding what he was trying to say. There might be no more than a boulder or two sticking out of the sand, but if they were big enough to cause a shift in the wind, then they would be big enough to shelter us from the storm.
Yes. A definite difference in the wind. There’s something ahead.
I felt it too, felt him moving faster, with less resistance, felt him stride forward with renewed energy and hope. I waited, unwilling to break his concentration when it was so important for him to find this shelter. I didn’t even realize he’d done it until he shifted his wings aside and set me down on the cold stone of a cave floor.
“The storm is beating against the side of the mountains and bouncing back. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, Ahia. This is less like a mountain range and more like huge monoliths of rock just sprouted from the sand. We won’t know if there’s water or any kind of food until the storm passes and daylight, but at least we’re safe.”
I shivered. “And we can wrap ourselves in our wings and the emergency blankets to keep warm as we sleep.”
“I’m not sleeping, but I will definitely wrap my wings around you to keep you warm. And I might do other things to keep you warm too.”
Now that was the Raphael I loved. I turned around the cave, unable to see anything and afraid to move lest I fall down a hole or off a cliff.
“Here.” The angel formed a ball of light between his palms and sent it upward, illuminating the ten-foot square space that branched off behind him into an angled tunnel. Bits of sand drifted in from the storm outside, but there was an expression on Raphael’s face that made me realize there was something in here other than rock and sand. I turned around, wondering if I’d see one of the raggedy monsters, or some sort of giant cave spider.
Instead I saw a note.
Chapter 34
Raphael
At the very back of the small cave was a piece of notebook paper with bold black handwriting on it — Brent’s handwriting according to Ahia.
Finding a cave right at the edge of the mountain range like this meant the survivors would most likely have found it, too. The sandstorm had been brutal, but I’d managed to keep to somewhat of a straight line using directional senses that I wasn’t completely sure worked here. Whatever I’d done, the werewolf and humans must have done the same.
Went over the mountain, straight to the opposite range. We’re heading to where I smell water. Will camp there, then onward hoping to find more water and food.
Ahia threw her arms around me, nearly crying with joy. “They’re alive. At least some of them are alive. We’ll ride out this storm, then head out in the morning to track them down.”
“But in the meantime, you need to get some rest.”
I sat her down, wrapped in one of the emergency blankets with a bottle of water and a granola bar from her backpack. She ate, then rested her head against my shoulder. “I know Brent, and if he’s with them, they’re in safe hands. He’ll take care of them, lead them to safety.”
“Tomorrow.” I turned to kiss the top of her head. “Right now I want you to get some sleep.”
And sleep she did, wrapped in my arms and wings with an emergency blanket around the pair of us. I kept watch, hearing the storm die down and watching as the stars and two moons lit up the sky. I felt her warmth against me, her breath across my neck, her spirit-self curled against mine, and in spite of every effort to stay awake, I couldn’t help but doze off, as comforted by her touch as she was by mine.
Chapter 35
Brent
Darkness came quickly. It seemed day one moment, then black and gray the next.
The humans shivered, huddled around the fire for warmth. I had mixed feelings about starting the blaze after what I’d smelled only a few miles away from us. We needed the warmth, and the firelight was reassuring a group that had seemed to be losing hope. But if whoever was in the forest saw it… I wasn’t sure if they were friendly or not, but I didn’t want an encounter in the night.
Please let them be friendly. I’ll admit I was starting to lose hope, too. This was our second night here. It would be tough enough to survive here, but if we were attacked, it would seal our fate. Nobody had weapons beyond two pocket knives, Ray would be unable to fight, and I couldn’t see Renee, Crystal or the two boys being able to help defend us. That left Kennedy and me. With no weapons. Which left me. I might be the Alpha of our pack, but I wasn’t sure how I’d fare solo against what could be multiple opponents. And even if I prevailed once, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to continue to defend us against repeated attacks.
Two nights. I was beginning to fear we’d be stranded here for the rest of our lives — our very short lives.
“You feel as tense about this whole thing as I do?” Kennedy asked. She was looking around at the darkness outside the little circle of firelight with a wary eye.
I nodded. “I don’t want to scare the others but there’s something in the woods over there. I didn’t have time to go see what, but I can smell cooking meat.”
She caught her breath. “We need to set up a watch. We’ve got a few stout branches we can cut down into makeshift weapons. I’ll put the boys to work on it and at least we’ll have a couple of them in case the worst happens.”
It was a good idea, but I’d be more use to them on four legs than on two in a fight. And I needed Kennedy to know so she didn’t try to brain me in the middle of the night, thinking I was a danger to them.
“Can you come over there with me away from the others?” I asked. “There’s something I want to show you.”
She eyed me, but still followed. “Seriously? Now? I mean, I’ve already seen it and as impressive as it is, I think the timing isn’t quite right for us to be admiring each other’s naughty bits.”
I rolled my eyes, but felt a rush of heat at the thought. Great. We were all going to die and my dick wanted some action. “No, not that. I want to show you something else, something about me. I don’t want you to think I’ve disappeared on you all, or whack me in the head with a stick if you see me. It takes me a while to change, so I can’t just pop back and forth.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” She folded her arms across her chest and frowned at me. “Watch you do what, gymnastics? Meditate naked? And how long is ‘a while’? I’m freezing out here away from the fire.”
I decided to answer her last question first. “If I rush it, five minutes. Normally it takes me ten.” I pulled my shirt over my head and unbuttoned my pants. “I’m a werewolf. I can smell and hear any intruders better in my wolf form and my night vision is better. Plus, I’m better able to defend you all as a wolf than I am as a weaponless human — or a human with a stick.”
“A werewolf.” Kennedy stared at me. “I’m very sorry, but I don’t have anti-psychotic drugs in my first-aid kit.”
“A werewolf. I’m not having a mental breakdown, I’m really a werewolf.” I removed my pants and her eyes roamed over my body. I stirred in response, going half-mast. Great. If I didn’t shift soon, I’d be standing in front of her sporting a massive woody.
She raised an eyebrow at my obvious response. “Either you’re having a psychotic break or I am. Maybe I’m in a morphine-induced coma. I’ve fallen through an interdimensional rift to a place with two moons and am traveling with five people and a werewolf. Morphine-induced hallucin
ations, because this can’t possibly be real.”
“I’m going to show you. Just don’t freak out or scream or anything. I don’t want the others to panic.”
“I don’t scream,” Kennedy muttered. “I’m not a screamer. And I don’t freak out.”
First time for everything, I thought. Then I began to change, bones and muscles rearranging, twisting, contorting. I heard Kennedy gasp, saw her back away wide-eyed. I rushed the change, knowing how horrific it looked. When I was done I faced her, panting from the effort, then waited for her to come to terms with my appearance.
I knew what she saw. I was dark gray, about double the size of a timber wolf with golden eyes. Slowly she approached, her hand outstretched. I could scent her fear mixed in with the lavender-vanilla scent of her hair and skin.
“Brent?”
Carefully, so as to not scare her, I lay down, resting my muzzle on the ground and wagging my tail. She put her hand on my head, running her fingers through my fur, tickling my ears, then smoothing her palm down my neck. “I’m in a narcotic dream, but I might as well go with it. Land of the Lost with a hot dude who’s a werewolf. At least there aren’t clowns, because that would really put me over the edge.”
I nudged her hand in agreement and she continued to pet me a while. It was nice. It was more than nice. It made me wonder how her fingers would feel stroking their way across my skin. As if she read my mind, she smiled, brushing the fur along my nose before standing.
“Okay Muscles, you take first watch. I’ll stay with the humans and carve some sticks. Come get me when it’s my turn. Wake me when it’s my turn.” She looked at me, her expression stern. I nodded, although I had no intention of waking her unless absolutely necessary. Let her get her sleep. Let everyone get their sleep. It was fitting that I keep guard, that I be the one to worry, while they had what could be their last night of peaceful rest.