Forgotten

by Neven Carr

  Ethan was right about the hill. The swell of it was quite sharp. Already shattered by my previous spurt, it took some perseverance to complete the climb. I was tired, mentally and physically but I was also determined. The memory of Saul’s distant eyes and the sound of his harsh words urged me forward.

  As I reached the top, I crossed to the center of the clearing. What I saw was nothing short of magic. Various shades of hilly green rose and fell for what seemed like forever. Propped against the stark oranges and reds of the fast setting sun and the glistening turquoise of the snaking river, it formed one very striking combination. White cockatoos laughed and bustled from the tall gum trees, heralding the end of day. Others, mainly small grey ducks and brilliantly colored lorikeets, took flight, swarming the sky.

  No wonder this was Saul’s favorite place.

  I woke from my temporary paralysis and searched to the right. Still unable to see Saul, I ventured further until I spotted the rocky outcrop. That’s when I saw him standing on the precipice of a huge boulder, fingers crooked in the front pocket of his jeans, eyes locked to the view. I felt relief first and then a slow, mushrooming angst took over.

  How was he going to react to me being there? Would he be angry at the mere sight of me? This was after all, his special place.

  I stole a few more breaths of the pure, gentle atmosphere and drove on, regardless. As I loomed nearer, my natural instincts divided. One told me to get out of there; the other advised me to keep going. I went with the other and soon climbed onto the large, flat rocky plane. Edging up next to Saul, I faced the glorious panorama. Saul remained stationary.

  After what seemed like eons, his hand reached for mine. I decided the magic of the mountains was working.

  I searched for his eyes, those impossible ones that had fascinated me since the first time I had seen them. They were kinder now, displaying that basic gentleness I was more accustomed to. “I have to talk to you,” I whispered, afraid to break the spell in this soothing part of the world.

  “I know,” was all he said. He used the flat of his hand to stroke my cheek. I drew in a harsh breath. My heart was near shutdown. Our eyes bonded and he grinned. He then brought his other hand flat against my other cheek. He slowly lifted my head and before my heart could struggle for one more beat, he locked his lips over mine.

  It was so light, yet so hot, hot enough to send every one of my hungry cells into anarchy. He pulled away, his eyes still fixed on me.

  “S… Saul….” I could barely string syllables. “I….”

  Saul laid a finger on my partly opened lips. “Shh,” he said. He placed his palm flush against my heart. It was pulsating wildly. I couldn’t imagine what he thought, but his grin only broadened. He bent to my ear and whispered, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

  And with that, he gripped my waist with both hands, lifted me onto my straining toes and kissed me again. There was nothing gentle this time, nothing light. His kiss was hungry, stirring my own dormant appetite. I could smell it amongst his hypnotic scent, hear it amongst his animalistic groans, feel it amongst his tongue plunging with long, swift strokes, deliciously deepening with every breath.

  Strong, wanton sensations scorched me and amplified, like an out-of-control fever. My hands flew, clenched his hair with considerable force, drew his face closer to mine. He wrenched my body until it fused with his, his mouth now sweeping the sides of my neck, lower still to the top of my breasts. And for a while, I was lost, lost in an amazing, untamed moment, not caring if I ever came out of it alive.

  Eventually, much to my frustration, he pulled away, leaving me panting for air and wet from the aching throb between my thighs. He rested his forehead onto mine, breathing heavily. “Shit, Claudia.” His voice was faint, ragged. “I swear you’re going to drive me crazy.”

  I didn’t care. If this is what crazy was, I was all in for some more. “I hope that’s a good crazy.”

  He chuckled, curled a few wisps of my wayward hair behind my ear. “So what now?” he said with a crooked grin and those damn seductive dimples.

  “Oh, I can think of many things.” My voice was low, but every bit as wicked as my disordered urges. I grabbed his face and reached for those yummy lips of his.

  Saul kissed back, but it was unsatisfyingly short. “You said you had to talk to me. What about?”

  Talk? Did he say talk? There was something. Something very important. But….

  “Later.” I inhaled and pulled him to me again. I heard him moan as his arms powered my body, as his lips set hot, frantic flames alight wherever they touched. His hand smoothed down my back, lower still until they reached the bare skin of my leg. My body convulsed at his touch, at his hand sinuously sliding part way beneath my skirt. He clutched my thigh, lifted it and enfolded my leg around his body. I groaned unashamedly, and once again, I became adrift in a world of impulsive delight.

  So lost was I in him that I didn’t recognize what happened next.

  Thankfully, Saul did.

  A sound cracked behind us, and then air whizzed past my ear. Saul instantly propelled me onto the rocky surface. Another sound cracked before he joined me. This time, I was alert enough to identify the distinctive sound.

  Gunshots.

  I froze.

  A third, terrifying shot sounded. Saul compressed himself against me and in one crazy, fluid movement spun us off the rock, and onto the ground. We landed with a thud, but unhurt.

  Where had he learnt to do that?

  “Don’t make a sound,” he murmured.

  My rampantly growing fear made sure of that. I sat up and leaned against the boulder. Terror now replaced our earlier passion, as I began to register the full gravity of the situation. We were defenseless against someone with a gun, with only a boulder between us.

  I glanced to the solid shrubbery to my right. It seemed so far away. I glanced to the left. Nothing but a rocky cliff. And to our front, only more open space. We were trapped. “Who?” I murmured.

  Saul was semi-kneeling in front of me. He signaled not to say another word. “Keep very still, very quiet. Don’t move from here,” Saul mouthed.

  He pulled his mobile from his back pocket and quickly pressed a key. Within seconds, someone answered. “Ethan, get up here fast,” Saul said in a low, muted voice. He then disconnected the call and handed me the phone. “When I tell you to run, that’s precisely what I want you to do. Straight into those bushes and down the hill. If you get lost, or anything, press this key and you’ll get Ethan; he’ll find you.”

  Panic hit me. “I’m not going without you.”

  “Claudia, just do this for me. Okay?” He pulled up one leg of his jeans and began ferreting for something strapped to his ankle. He released it and flicked it opened. It was a switchblade, a sizeable one. I now understood the need for his climate challenged clothing.

  “Do you know those are illegal in this country?”

  He screwed his face. “So is speeding.”

  Before I could respond to his blasé interpretation of the law, I spotted an ominous red mass developing on the sleeve of Saul’s white shirt. He had been shot. My chest tightened and I stumbled out his name.

  He looked at his shirt and then back to me. He cupped my chin with his hand. “It’s just a graze. Trust me.” He then brushed his lips against mine. “Quiet now, I need to listen.”

  He propped himself up against the rock, switchblade in hand, ears glued. I cringed at the increasing red stain. I wanted to help him. I didn’t know how. I could only do what Saul asked.

  Time passed in slow motion. Before I could determine what happened next, Saul had whipped himself around the rocky edge. It was difficult to establish the subsequent mixture of sounds, the abrasive movements, the distinct thud of muscle butting muscle, but thankfully, it didn’t last long. Silence ruled again.

  I feared what I’d see if I looked over the top, but I didn’t need to. Saul’s voice, anxious but strong, yelled for me to get the hell out of there. Not wanting to aban
don him, I hesitated. But a second, more potent roar from him jolted me to my feet. I sprinted as fast as I could, in the direction of the vegetation. Once there, shrouded by the bushes, I stopped and crouched low.

  I spotted Saul on his knees. One of his hands gripped a rather dazed, bald man; the other held his menacing switchblade near the man’s throat. I struggled for breath, more stunned by the terrifying expression on Saul’s face. It was hard, malevolent, leaving me with little doubt that he would slice this man’s neck if needed.

  “Drop the gun,” Saul ordered. The man laughed. Saul brought the blade closer to his neck. The man shrieked and at once released his gun. Saul immediately kicked it away.

  “You’ve cut my fucking throat, you bastard,” the bald man sniveled.

  “It’s a nick, you lowlife. Now, tell me who you are and why you’re shooting at us.”

  I wasn’t sure if the man was brave or simply stupid but he laughed again. Saul tightened his grip. The man spluttered, threw up his hand. “It’s the girl we’re after, not you. You’re just collateral.”

  Who were these people? Why did they now want me dead? I dropped my head to think. An act that proved to be a huge error.

  When I looked back up, another man had already materialized from the bend. The mammoth-sized individual wore a tight tank shirt that accentuated the colossal muscles of his body, the rock hard tendons bulging in wave-like contours along his beefy arms. His face was scar-ridden and appeared every bit as hostile as his rifle. He bellowed to Saul to drop his weapon.

  Saul didn’t move.

  The man moved in closer. “I won’t say it again, Reardon, drop it.”

  The tip of the barrel pressed against Saul’s back. Saul paused some more, before finally hanging his head. The aimless tumble of his knife signaled defeat.

  “On your knees, hands high on your head.”

  Saul stooped down and locked his fingers flat to the back of his lowered head. He then lifted his eyes. They had changed, sort of like the angry Saul back at Zephyr, but with far more… I don’t know… focus. And the way they just latched onto the mammoth’s eyes without even the slightest blink, I found positively disturbing.

  The old saying if looks could kill came to mind, and I suddenly imagined the mammoth nothing more than a macabre mound of pulverized dust. I shook the thought away and instead returned to Saul facing two armed thugs, defenseless and with the scarlet threat on his shirt widening.

  Shit.

  I didn’t have the first idea what to do.

  “I know what you’re trying to do, Reardon, eyeballing me like that.” The mammoth appeared amused. “But it ain’t going to work.”

  The other man sniggered. “Yeah, we know all about the likes of you, Reardon.”

  But Saul stayed silent, maintained his chilled fix.

  The bald man checked the blood on his throat. “The bastard sliced me,” he grumbled.

  “It’s your own fucking fault,” the mammoth said. “What were you doing sneaking up on him anyway? Haven’t you learnt anything?” He bent down, pulled at Saul’s bloodied sleeve and then groaned. “You shot him? You fucking idiot. Orders were to kill only the girl.”

  “I didn’t think it mattered.”

  “Of course it bloody matters.” The mammoth shook his head. “So where is the girl?”

  “Dunno,” the bald man answered with a casual shrug. “Reardon told her to run. She could be anywhere by now.”

  “What? Fucking hell, can’t you do nothing right, you moron?”

  The bald man mumbled something; the tone suggested nothing savory.

  The mammoth ignored him and focused on Saul. “Where is she?”

  “Didn’t you hear your friend, the moron, here?” Saul’s voice projected that same dagger-like detachment as his expression.

  One corner of the mammoth’s mouth slid upwards. “Ah, Reardon, always the smart arse.” And with that, the mammoth’s considerable-sized boot, with considerable-sized force smashed into Saul’s wound. Saul reeled, but only for several seconds. He straightened back up, returned his hands to his head and resumed his mortal stare.

  I felt sick. Instinct told me to dash out to him.

  Instinct also ordered me not to. Those animals would have us both, and their job completed.

  What to do.

  I recalled the clarity of mind I’d summoned in the bougainvillea wilderness and tried to re-summon it. But under the circumstances, it proved impossible. I thought of Ethan and wondered where he was. Perhaps I should use the phone… find out… hurry him along… something.

  “I’m not fucking stupid,” the mammoth continued. “You would’ve given her instructions. What were they?”

  Saul took his time. “You know what females are like, they rarely follow instructions.”

  There was no humor on the mammoth’s face this time. A second, more brutal kick followed. Saul coughed out a loud groan as he doubled over yet again.

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t know how much longer I could restrain myself without risking my whereabouts. Conversely, Saul was remarkably controlled. He returned to his earlier position and locked in on the monster as before.

  What was he doing? Or more the question, why?

  “Stalling ain’t going to help you. And if you think your boyfriend, Sloane, is coming to your rescue, think again. He’s been taken care of.”

  What? No, not Ethan.

  My breath came in short, flimsy wisps, my skin drenched with adrenalized moisture, my feet scraping, tapping, readying for lift off. I mentally paced up and down trying to find another way out, but my mind was too scrambled.

  Shit.

  “I hear she’s a beauty, this little princess of yours,” the mammoth droned on. “My friend here and me, bet we could have some real fun with her when we get her.”

  I knew what the mammoth was doing. And judging by the slight wince on Saul’s face, it was working. Saul was probably right in thinking his feelings for me weakened him somehow. The mammoth would eventually wear him down.

  I had to do something.

  And it had to be something pretty damn good.

  Chapter 27

  Claudia

  December 27, 2010

  6:35 pm

  I TURNED MY back and closed my eyes.

  I tried to push away all thoughts from my head, the panic, the fear, even the wonderful passion that Saul and I shared moments ago. I tried to push away the ugly idea of Ethan laying hurt or worse still, dead. I tried to push away Saul’s bullet wound.

  But again, it wasn’t easy.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I know what you’re trying to do, the mammoth had said.

  Which was what exactly? If it was to fluster the mammoth, it had failed; that much was obvious. I looked back over my shoulder. There was no denying the obsessiveness of Saul’s eyeballing. So why keep the pretense going if it wasn’t working?

  Unless….

  I studied Saul again, allowed my zany idea to mature.

  And liked it.

  Saul was waiting. Waiting for an opportunity, where one or both men would be distracted. I weighed up Saul’s ability to overcome them. I examined the size of the mammoth. I examined the deepening, rose color of Saul’s shirt. At Saul’s best, the mammoth looked no easy feat. In Saul’s present condition, it could be downright problematic.

  His capacity to overpower the two, virtually impossible.

  I needed to get one of them away.

  I explored the nearby area and took note of the shrubs, dead wood, and rocks. I looked back at Saul. His face was whitening, but his eyes were like solid steel, lodged tightly on his captor.

  I hunted for the necessary props to my whacky idea, a large rock and a long, thick piece of wood. Thankfully, due to the incessant drought, the wood was completely dry. I positioned my foot above it and gave it one almighty whack. It split almost in two, its cracking sound echoing throughout the nearby scrubland.

  “What was that?” Moron asked, looking in my direc
tion.

  The mammoth didn’t remove his gaze from Saul. “Why don’t you go and find out. The girl could still be in there and this time, don’t make any stupid mistakes.”

  Moron thrust his stubby, middle finger in the air and then turned towards the scrubs.

  “Looks like your little princess may have hung around, Reardon,” the mammoth mocked. “What, she couldn’t leave you? How adoringly sweet, how devotedly stupid.”

  Saul’s assassin-like eyes maintained their position.

  The moron, on the other hand, with his gun outstretched appeared nervous.

  Not as nervous as me, I bet.

  I slowly, quietly collected the rock, raised it above my head… ready.

  Moron entered the scrub cautiously at first, swinging his weapon from side to side. I waited until he was far enough into the brush, until he was only yards away. I hesitated. What if my plan didn’t work; what if all I did was worsen the situation?

  Fortunately, for me, two things happened.

  Moron, on discovering the snapped branch, bent down to investigate it more closely, making himself a far more accessible target. Another longer, louder groan from Saul pumped a surge of anger-driven adrenaline through me.

  I tightened my grip on the rock. And with one gigantic swing, thrust it onto the back of Moron’s baldhead. Moron howled and stumbled to his knees. He swayed and rocked for several seconds, then fell face down on the ground.

  “What the….” It was the mammoth’s snarling voice. He turned in the direction of the scrub.

  That was all Saul needed.

  Saul straightened swiftly and with his knee bent, crashed his foot between the mammoth’s legs. The mammoth roared, dropped his gun. Both hands rolled around his injury.

  Saul knotted his own hands in a fist-like shape, and then thrust a colossal blow directly under the mammoth’s chin. The mammoth fell backwards, moaning, curling. Saul leapt behind him, grabbed his head and with one small twist, stilled the beast.