Warden Fall

by Jennifer M. Eaton

  A larger than life advertisement on the side of a passing NJ Transit bus made me smile. Fire in the Woods, starring Jared Linden and Chris Stevens. In theaters September tenth. Jared leaned forward in the photo, ready to pounce off the side of the bus. Chris Stevens stood beside him, shirtless with hands in pockets and beautiful blond tresses falling seductively toward one eye. I loved Chris’s new haircut, and Jared—Yum. Five foot ten inches of pure tall-dark-and-handsome. They were both just to die for.

  A sudden movement drew my attention from the bus. I skidded to a stop. To my right, maybe a hundred feet from the forest, stood the most beautiful buck I’d ever seen. I held my breath trying not to move as he stared me down. A majestic twelve-point rack of antlers scrolled from his head, and his white and brown tail flickered incessantly. After a long, breathless wait, his mouth swirled in a chewing motion. Nature in its most beautiful form.

  An eerie shadow cast across the grass as the sun shone through his rack. The silhouette formed little fingers that seemed to reach for me. Wow. If I took that picture at just the right angle …

  Shoot. My camera sat safely at home, not attached to my hip where it should have been. Diversity in the portfolio was a must. I needed a picture of that guy. I inched forward and the buck raised his head, shifting the shadow from sight.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “I won’t hurt you.”

  I reached into my pocket and fumbled for my phone. The aperture on the camera feature opened, and I lifted the screen toward him. Without warning, the deer sprang into the air. It flipped its tail toward me and bolted into the woods.

  “Awe, man.”

  Clutching my camera-phone, I ran to the trees and squinted into the brambles. The buck’s dark, shiny eyes blinked within the brush. He chewed twice before he trotted deeper into the foliage.

  “Come on, dude, I just want a picture.”

  I ramrodded my way into the forest, the branches whipping back as I set them free. The morning warmth gave way to cool, damp air beneath the trees as I hopped over a group of fallen logs and ducked under a giant poison ivy vine climbing up a tree. I paused, listening to the woods. Silence greeted me, followed by the chirps of two birds chasing each other from tree to tree in the upper canopy. I slowed and fought to catch my breath. He was gone.

  My chest throbbed as I leaned my hands on my knees. Sheesh, he was fast. I chuckled to myself. What was I thinking?

  A puff of smoke rose over some brush on my right. I pulled the bushes aside and found the remains of a small smoldering campfire. Some people were so irresponsible. I tossed dirt on the embers until they winked out. Good deed for the day: done.

  Turning to head back out of the woods, I froze. A noise blasted through the forest, screeching like a smoke alarm gone haywire. A stabbing pain tore into my brain. I slammed my hands over my ears, but I couldn’t fight the drills boring inside me. Head pounding, I howled, but my own voice fell victim to the vibrations within my mind.

  I dropped to my knees. “Please stop! Make it stop!”

  The squalling encompassed everything. Tears pooled in my eyes, blurring my vision before trailing down my cheeks. I wailed in misery.

  Until it stopped.

  I shook, reeling from the unexpected silence. A faint hum lingered, a frightening reminder of the sound’s intensity. Hands still covering my ears, I sucked in a short breath and dared another. Holding as still as possible, I scanned the trees.

  What the heck was going on?

  Sobbing, I blinked back fresh tears and wiped my cheek clean. A leaf fell to the ground at my feet, but the rest of the forest remained motionless. The chirping birds had vanished. Nothing stirred to disrupt the eerie quiet—not even a gentle rustle of the wind.

  I cringed, frightened by a thrash behind a large fallen tree. Ignoring the instinct to flee like the buck, I inched forward and peeked over the log.

  A guy, maybe seventeen or eighteen, lay curled in a ball on the ground. His hands pressed against his ears as he whimpered through twisted lips. A tight-fitting white tee-shirt clung to his back, slightly untucked from his faded blue jeans. His soulful whimper clawed my heart as he rocked steadily on the woodland floor.

  Biting my lip, I mustered up the courage to speak. “Are you okay?”

  He grunted. “Please stop! Make it stop!”

  “The noise? But it’s gone now.”

  He twitched and moaned. The brush beneath him crunched with every movement.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Just breathe. It’s over. Everything will be all right.”

  Panic centered in my chest, as if something reached inside me and tugged. A haze seeped into my thoughts, and I shook my head to clear it. What was wrong with me?

  The boy hadn’t reacted to my questions, almost as if he couldn’t hear me. A helpless, panicked swirl within my ribs gave me pause. I had to do something, but what?

  My hands balled into fists. “What’s wrong?”

  I shoved aside a stray branch and jumped over the log. The boy stopped rocking as I approached, but his body quaked with long, labored breaths.

  “It’s okay. It’s over.”

  He didn’t respond. I looked through the tree trunks and over the bramble and ferns … only leaves and vines and trees blending into more trees for as far as I could see. There was no one else to help him. I ran my fingers through the hair at my temples, massaging the sensitive skin where my brain still pulsed with a dull ache.

  Pull yourself together, Jess.

  The guy pushed up on one arm. His long, dark bangs fell over his face. Cautiously, I placed my hand on his back.

  “Hey, are you all right?”

  His entire body flinched. He popped out of his crouch, shifting away with a cry of alarm. He kicked his feet against the leaves and dirt, backing himself away. A murmur escaped his lips as he smashed against a tree trunk. His turquoise-blue eyes widened. His gaze darted in every direction.

  Were his eyes actually turquoise? I tilted my head to the side. Yeah, they really were. Must be contacts or something.

  I raised my palms, keeping my distance. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

  He focused on me, mouth open, taking in huge gulps of air. His right hand reached up and held his left shoulder as he bit his bottom lip. Beautiful white teeth grazed his slightly tanned skin before he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

  I stepped closer. “Are you hurt?”

  The guy scrambled away, sliding beside the tree.

  I raised my hands. “Okay, okay. I was only trying to help.” I eased down on a patch of moss. “What do you think that was anyway?”

  His eyes centered on me—freaking me out with their odd color. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. My eyes burned and grew heavy—until he blinked.

  A waft of air entered my lungs, and I let it out slowly. Why was I holding my breath? I rubbed my eyes. What was wrong with me? I felt, I don’t know, different—like a cloud covered me. No, like a blanket. A nice, safe blanket.

  A wince contorted the boy’s face as he stretched his neck. He crinkled his nose, his breathing settling to a more normal pace.

  His gaze seemed to search through me, and the foggy feeling deepened. I relaxed, taking in his strong round cheeks and delicate jawline. I must have won the lottery or something … stuck in the middle of the woods with a guy who—come to think of it—looked a lot like Jared Linden.

  “So,” I began, trying not to focus on those muscular arms nearly busting out of his tight tee-shirt. “What’s your name?”

  “Your name?” His hair fell in loose waves along the bangs, flipped back over short-cropped sides … exactly like Chris Stevens’s hair, but much darker—almost black.

  “Yeah, you know—your name.” I pointed to my chest. “I’m Jess.”

  I waited for an introduction that didn’t come. He just looked at me, blinking hard like something was stuck in his eyes.

  “And you are?”

 
He squinted. “David?” His eyebrows arched, almost as if he were making sure his name was okay.

  “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

  A maddening grin shot across his face. Jared Linden eat your heart out. Damn, this guy looked like he should be on a magazine cover, not out traipsing around in the woods—or whatever he was doing out here.

  “David,” he said. “My name is David.”

  “Okay, now that we got that out of the way, are you all right? Is your shoulder hurt?”

  He shifted to the left. A grimace twisted his lips. “My shoulder? Umm, yeah. It hurts in the back.”

  “I took first-aid last year. Do you want me to take a look at it?”

  “Take a look at it?” He blinked twice.

  “Yeah. You’ll need to take your shirt off, okay?”

  “Shirt off?” He placed his hand down, crushing the jagged leaves of a fern.

  “Okay, did you hit your head or something, because you’re, like, repeating everything I say.”

  He blinked his eyes hard again. His breathing came in shallow wheezes, as if every lungful hurt. I half expected to find a gunshot wound, but I’d probably have seen the blood by now. At least I hoped so. It’d be embarrassing if I passed out and he ended up taking care of me instead.

  “Here. Let me help you.” I reached for the bottom of his tee-shirt and helped him lift it over his head.

  “Ouch.” David grabbed his shoulder before I could get the shirt over the other arm. The white fabric hung in the crook of his elbow, dragging the ground and picking up a few pine needles.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I shifted to kneel behind him. His gaze tracked me like I had a knife or something. “Okay, let’s take a look.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek and took the longest look of my life. He was flawless. Absolutely flawless. Slightly bronzed, unblemished skin covered strong shoulders. He almost seemed air-brushed. I reached out to touch him, and his muscles rippled and tensed.

  A gasp escaped my lips. Dang. I mean seriously: Da-ha-hang. If I didn’t distract myself, I was gonna drool all over him. “So, what do you think that loud noise was?”

  “Loud noise?”

  “There you go again, repeating me.” My jaw fell open. “Holy cow. You weren’t in the plane crash were you?”

  “Plane crash?”

  “Still repeating.”

  He shook his head. “No. No plane.”

  A light wind blew overhead, bringing life back to the forest. The birds resumed chirping as I slipped beside him. “Did you see it, the crash?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “You didn’t get hit by shrapnel or anything, did you?”

  His lips formed a word, but stopped. “I, I don’t know.”

  “Crap, talk about picking the wrong time to be in the woods.” I moved behind him again, and ran my hand along his back. I couldn’t find any trace of injury, but his skin seemed hotter than Hel…well, really hot.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  His shoulders twitched. “You asking if I was okay.”

  “Don’t you remember holding your head and screaming in agony?”

  He rubbed his forehead. “Oh, umm, yeah. It was … strange.”

  “Strange is kind of an understatement, don’t you think?” I removed my hand. “I can’t see any swelling. Where does it hurt?”

  “In the shoulder middle.”

  I ran my hand across his back lightly once, and applied gentle pressure in the center of the blade.

  He cried out.

  “Oh, Sorry.” It hit me that I’d barely passed first-aid class. I had no idea what I was doing.

  He grumbled, flinching. “Can you first aid it?”

  I laughed. “First aid it?”

  “Can you help me?”

  I sat back, just missing a daddy long-legs scurrying across the ground. “David, I think you need to go to a hospital.”

  He raised his hand. “No. No hospital.”

  “But you’re hurt. You probably need an x-ray.”

  “No. I definitely don’t need one of those.” He stood and cried out, clutching his arm.

  “Listen, are you in trouble or something? Are you running from the police?”

  “No … not the police.”

  I propped myself against a small tree. “So you are running. From who? You’re not, like, a criminal or anything, right?”

  “No. I just don’t want to be found.” His gaze drifted downward.

  Way in the back of my mind, a little trickle of doubt and fear struggled against an overwhelming need to help him. I should have done the smart thing and run, but I couldn’t just leave the poor guy there.

  “Listen. You don’t have to tell me what’s up, but you’re hurt. You at least need some ice.”

  He looked up. “Ice?”

  “You know—to keep it from swelling.”

  A deep furrow crossed his brow. “Can you get me ice?”

  “I guess. Do you want to walk back to my place with me?” I shuddered. Did I just invite a guy I didn’t even know back to my house?

  “No. Bring it here.”

  Relief washed over me, but not because I was afraid of David. I was more afraid of Dad finding me alone with a boy. Bring ice? No problem. I glanced around the trees, no longer sure which way I’d come from.

  “The only problem is I’m not sure I’ll be able to find you again. I’m not even sure if I can find my way out.”

  He motioned behind me. “You are six-hundred and twenty-seven point five meters north east of where you entered the woods.”

  I stared at him as my geek-meter went haywire. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He paled slightly and shrugged, glancing away. “Yes, of course. You did come from that direction, though.”

  He was probably some kind of a math nerd or something. Damn cute math nerd, though. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” I started walking.

  “Jess?”

  My hair grazed my check as I turned back toward him. “Yeah?”

  David eased himself against the log. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” As long as my dad isn’t home, that is.

  I imagined all the possible Major Martinez interrogation questions. None of them ended up good. I turned to the woods and quickened my pace. I had to get in and out of the house before Dad got home.

  3

  I sprinted down my street and stopped at the edge of the sidewalk. Busted. Dad’s car sat in his favorite parking space, still creaking as the engine cooled. How in God’s name was I supposed to sneak a bag of ice out of the house with Dad home? The back door!

  The handle of the rear screen door clicked as I tiptoed into the kitchen.

  Dad’s voice came from the living room. “I did tell her to stay home. Mom, I just don’t know what to do with her anymore. She doesn’t follow orders at all.”

  Why was he talking to Grandma about me? Didn’t matter. I had to get that ice. I inched toward the freezer.

  “I know she’s not one of my soldiers. Believe me. If she was, she’d think about the big picture and not focus on herself all the time. And she wouldn’t do such stupid things. I swear she does this to piss me off.”

  I gritted my teeth and slid the ice tray out of the freezer. What dad considered stupid things were all the things that were important to me that he didn’t understand. If he’d look up and beyond that stupid uniform he wore all the time, he’d realize there was more to life than—

  “And this dumb photography thing—dammit Mom, I wish you never bought her that camera.”

  I froze. My heart wiggled its way into my throat.

  “Give her space? Let her make her mistakes? What kind of advice is that?”

  Photography wasn’t a mistake. It was my life, my passion, my—

  “Mom, I need help with her. I thought I could manage it alone, but I can’t. All I’m asking is for you to c
ome for a week or so, just until school starts. There’s too much going on and I just can’t trust her anymore.”

  Can’t trust me?

  Grandma?

  My stomach did a somersault and missed the landing. The ice container slipped out of my hands and crashed on the floor.

  “Mom, she’s back. I gotta go.”

  I dropped to my knees, taking deep breaths as I scooped the slippery cubes off the linoleum. My hands shook. Why couldn’t he understand how much that camera meant to me? Why couldn’t he understand that his dreams weren’t the same as mine? I shoved the container back into the freezer and sat down at the kitchen table. I doodled the deer’s antlers on the edge of a pad, trying to calm myself down as I prepared for the impending fight.

  Dad barreled around the corner. “Jess, where have you been?”

  “I told you, I went to the store.”

  “You were supposed to stay home.”

  “You said last night. I went out this morning.”

  His face reddened. “When I tell you to stay home, I need you to stay home.”

  “I left a note and everything, didn’t I? And I called, like a good little soldier, but as usual, you didn’t pick up the phone. You never pick up the phone.”

  “Don’t you try to turn this around on me.”

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t do any more stupid things.” I pushed past him and stormed up the stairs.

  “Jessica!”

  I slammed my bedroom door. The covers poofed up around me as I flopped onto my bed. Only think about myself? Dumb photography? What did he know? I rolled over and hugged my pillow. It was the same argument, different day. Nothing would change. Ever.

  By now, Dad was probably half way to counting to a hundred to calm down. He’d need to get to two-hundred before he’d come up here and give his stylized lame apology. God, I hated that part.

  I rubbed my face, remembering why I’d come home in the first place. I needed to find a way to smuggle some ice past Dad. But how? There was no chance of getting out of the house again until he stopped focusing on me.

  A prisoner until the game played out, I decided to kill time with Maggie. I slipped my phone out of my pocket, and dialed her up. “Hey girl.”