inDIVISIBLE

by Hunter, Ryan

  I wanted to sob in relief but knew we weren’t safe yet. If they called for medical, they’d also call for backup and that meant more to fight off.

  “They’ll tend to their wounded first,” T said, confirming my fears, “and probably call for backup.” The blood had started to dry on his hands and he started to wipe it away on some leaves before he thought better of it.

  “Is any of it yours?” I asked, afraid he’d been injured.

  He shook his head. “I’m fine, but I’m worried about you. You’re bleeding through your bandage.”

  I lifted my right hand, feeling no pain but knowing I should. I’d fallen hard on that hand a couple of times, and now I worried about how it would look when I removed the bandage again.

  “Can you keep going?” T asked. “We need to put some distance between us and we need to find water …”

  I pushed to my feet and the pain in my hand returned, churning my stomach. “Let’s go,” I said.

  T hesitated, looked over his shoulder and motioned ahead. We both knew we could not afford to rest.

  CHAPTER 19

  A stripe of blood had dried and cracked down my shin before we stopped. T inspected it, worried maybe I’d been nicked by one of the bullets. As I dug gravel out of my knee I remembered falling, remembered catching myself on my palms and turned them over. The left was raw, scraped by the same rocks that left blood trailing down my leg. The right had bled through my bandage until the gauze had become stiff and dark.

  “I fell, T. That’s all,” I said softly.

  He pulled his shirt over his head and dipped the hem into a stream, wiping the blood away from my knee. “Doesn’t matter—it needs to be cleaned and I want to make sure it’s nothing serious.”

  His fingers moved gently across my skin, his eyes searching mine for any signs of pain as he went. It surprised me, the gentleness in his hands, and his concern for me.

  “I wish things could be different,” he whispered.

  I lowered my lashes, wondering if he meant different in that we weren’t running for our lives or different between us. And if he meant different between us, I hoped he meant more like we’d been on that beach in Greece.

  I stopped digging rocks from my palms, not daring to dream he wanted more, especially while we ran for our lives. I shook my head, but it didn’t dislodge the image of his lips, his smoldering eyes as he’d gazed at me on that beach.

  He touched my cheek, raising my face. I met his gaze, his eyes like dark chocolate—melting.

  He wanted to kiss me.

  My lips parted and my breathing shallowed. I raised my hand to touch his cheek, the stubble on his chin rough against my fingertips. He came closer, easing his hand around to the back of my head, fingers entangling in my hair. Gently he pulled me toward him, lips so close, his breath warm and sweet. His lips whispered against mine, so lightly I couldn’t tell if we’d actually made contact, but I had no chance to find out before rustling in the trees shot fear through each of us.

  T’s hand slid away, pulling the gun from his waistband. He gripped it in both hands, aiming at the ground as he searched the scraggly vegetation beyond. I thought the officers would help their wounded, not leave him to fend for himself. I scooted closer to T, and the brush rustled again. A rabbit darted out, and I jumped, a giggle erupting as it hopped sideways in fear when it saw us.

  “What—” He chuckled when he saw the animal and it deepened to a full laugh. I joined him, though I kept one hand over my mouth to smother the noise from our pursuers. I grabbed his arm, relief coursing through my arms, making my head light.

  “One more thing,” he said, taking my bandaged hand. T unwound the gauze and I nearly cried as it stuck to my hand. He opened a bottle of water and poured enough onto the wound to moisten the gauze so it would release and pulled again. I gritted my teeth and looked away as he cleaned the wound. “You need stitches.”

  I shook my head. “No doctors.”

  His hands warmed my fingers, their gentle pressure increasing as he said, “I wasn’t talking about a doctor.”

  I looked down at my hand and gagged. “What were you talking about then?”

  He pulled the first aid kit from the bag and opened it, gripping a curved needle—already threaded.

  I pulled my hand away. “No.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t trust me?”

  I swallowed and my spit tasted coppery. “I don’t trust my pain tolerance.”

  “It needs attention,” he persisted.

  I lay back on the ground and held out my hand, looking off into the bushes at my left. “Have you ever done this before?” I asked.

  He touched my wound—I flinched. “I’ve seen it done.”

  I tried to laugh but it sounded more like a sob. “Not good enough.”

  He rubbed my forearm with the palm of his hand. “I don’t know what else to do.”

  I took a deep breath. “Do you have something I could bite on, so I don’t scream?”

  T rolled a shirt and placed it between my teeth. “I’ll be as careful as I can.”

  I knew he would, but when the needle entered my torn flesh, I kicked my feet out so hard rocks flew into the stream. He paused, rubbed my arm again to help me relax and stuck it through the other side.

  Tears rolled down the sides of my face, and my jaw cramped. I moaned as he tied it off, unprepared when he started another. The sound that came out of my throat could easily have been misinterpreted as a growl. My eyes slammed shut and my breathing became quick, shallow spurts through my nose.

  He washed his hands in the stream when he finished, then carefully removed the shirt from my mouth. His thumb strayed to my cheekbone and he asked, “You okay?”

  I pushed up to sitting but my head spun and I laid back down, worried I’d dry-heave.

  “Take your time,” T said.

  I closed my eyes and wished the pain away. T moved, the zipper on his bag opened and a moment later he returned, pressing two pills into my hand. “Take these.”

  “What are they?”

  “Your antibiotic and a pain pill.”

  I sat again, leaning against T. I placed both pills on my tongue and swallowed them down with a swig of water. “Thank you.”

  T smoothed the hair from my sweaty forehead. “You enjoyed that, huh?”

  I sat up on my own, my head starting to clear. “… for the meds,” I clarified.

  “Anything to keep you alive,” he said. He pulled out another roll of gauze and wrapped my hand again, this time using only enough to keep most of the dirt out. “How’s that feel?”

  “Like the devil.”

  He smiled. “Glad you appreciate my work.” His smile faded and I heard the reasons before he could explain them. A helicopter neared, the rotors beating the air as it propelled forward, toward the man T had injured—toward us. The relief I’d felt seconds ago had become a distant memory as the adrenaline kicked in to jumpstart my panic.

  “Can you go on?” he asked, knowing neither of us had a choice.

  I filled my lungs with fresh oxygen before I parted my lips and exhaled, pushing the stale air from my abdomen. My head cleared the smallest bit, and I stood.

  T caught his bottom lip between his teeth and let it slowly slip away. My gaze lingered, my steps drawing me closer. “T?”

  He crouched and grabbed the backpack.

  “About earlier?”

  The helicopter dipped from the sky, landing on the hilltop just out of sight. “They’ll be bringing others to search for us, fresh recruits.”

  I’d figured as much. I tried to forget about his caress as I swiped a strand of hair behind my ear. “Then we should go.”

  He turned and headed up stream. My aching muscles protested with each step as I trailed a few feet behind.

  CHAPTER 20

  The helicopter vibrated the air for half an hour before it left. We kept our pace constant until it lifted, increasing our speed as it swept across the sky and silenced in the distance.
The beating blades had masked our steps but now we heard each crunch of leaves, each crackling stick. The smallest sound stiffened my shoulders, and it didn’t take long until my neck ached.

  T walked on stones, his footsteps light, using the balls of his feet. I tried to copy him but felt more like a rampaging elephant than ever before. I cringed and leapt from one rock to another several paces behind, sliding on moss and landing in leaves more loudly than before.

  T stopped and turned, shushing me. I swiped my sweaty palms against my jeans and took a deep breath. The air had grown more moist, the smell of dark soil rich in my nose. Almost like rain, I thought before throwing a look into the sky. Clear blue greeted me and I sighed. No clouds. Good. We weren’t equipped for rain. T slid in beside me and took my hand. The stiff curve of his arm provided the assistance I needed to keep my steps lighter, my stride longer and faster. Besides that, his hand just felt good in mine. Heat swept across my face, and I looked up to see him watching me, half a smile on his full lips. I smiled before looking back down to watch the placement of each step.

  Had he known what I’d been thinking? I ducked beneath a branch. And so what if he did? He hadn’t pulled his hand away so he must like it too, at least a little.

  His fingers flexed and tightened around mine, his arm supporting me as we approached a short waterfall, the tumbling water like a roar after our silence. He paused and turned, pulling a water bottle from his pack. He handed it to me for a drink before taking several for himself. He passed it back and motioned for me to finish it. I hesitated. We didn’t have a lot of drinking water, and here he was telling me to drink more than I needed? I took another pull on the water and swiped the back of my hand across my lips. The cool water crept down my throat and sloshed in my belly, squelching the hunger. I lifted it again and drained it, cringing as I passed it back.

  T crouched, filled the bottle from the falls and dropped in several water purification drops. He capped the bottle and shook it before returning everything to his backpack.

  I found a large stone and sat, hoping the water would drown out any of our noises, at least long enough to stretch. I leaned back on my hands and tilted my head to the sky. Everything ached, my shoulders, neck and my legs. I moved to massage my calves when the snow began with the breeze. White puffs fell from the sky, and I wondered for a moment if I’d begun hallucinating. I reached out and caught a warm flake. Soft and smooth, I recognized it as cotton. I caught another and rubbed them between my fingers, enjoying the reprieve from our run.

  After several minutes, T sat beside me, dropping the backpack beside us. “I’ve heard nothing,” he whispered.

  I closed my eyes, concentrating for what seemed like an hour. “Me neither.”

  “They should be close,” he said.

  Shivers ran up my arms, and I pressed my lips together. “Why aren’t they?”

  T scanned the trees once more, his shoulders tense. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”

  I stretched my arms in the air and yawned. “Should we keep going?”

  T flicked his tongue across his lips and pulled the backpack closer. One by one he removed the contents. “I’ve got to see what we have to work with first.”

  I understood, but the sight of so little made me uncomfortable. I moved back to the stream, splashing water on my face, drying it with the filthy hem of my shirt.

  “We put most of the food in your pack,” he said.

  I sat, untied my shoes and slipped my feet free of them. Bare and cool, I pressed them into the water and reluctantly turned to survey our survival gear. We had two packs of dried meat, dried apples and bananas, and a few fresh fruits left over from our foraging at Mary’s. The knives looked less appetizing … and the first aid gear, though valuable, would do little to prolong life if we ran out of nourishment. I picked up a folded square of foil sealed in a plastic bag and asked, “What’s this?”

  T glanced up briefly. “An emergency blanket.”

  I tossed it back on the pile. “Right.” I nearly lay back before I realized that my father’s journals were not in the pile he’d taken from the backpack. Bile rose in my throat as I considered what would happen to us if we’d lost his books. I glanced over my shoulder, somehow expecting to see the hillside where the pack had been lost, but saw the towering cottonwoods interspersed with pine instead.

  “What is it?” T asked, fingers stilling.

  “My father’s books. Whose pack were they in?”

  He withdrew the books from another zipper on the back of the pack near the straps. My shoulders slumped as a sigh escaped. “Thank you, T.”

  He shrugged as if it were nothing and repacked everything as carefully as he’d removed it. “We should find some shelter for the night, away from the river. They’ll be expecting us to stay near water.”

  The tree tops had turned dark against a red sky. I tugged my socks over my wet feet before slipping on my shoes. The sneakers were filthy, my socks nearly black. I tied my laces and stood. “Where to?”

  T checked our back trail before pointing ahead. “If we’re lucky, we’ll find a cave or an overhang. Either way, we've got to find shelter long enough to go over this map and see what our options are.”

  Options … I prayed we actually had some.

  CHAPTER 21

  We settled for a crevice just large enough for us to lay side by side, the jagged edges of the rocks towering over us and obscuring most of the night sky. The crack curved about thirty feet back into the rock before it completely disappeared, becoming narrower and narrower the deeper it went. We chose to stay near the front of the crevice where we could run if we heard them coming instead of getting trapped when they caught our trail.

  T worked quickly to smooth away the loose rocks and brush before throwing down a couple of dirty shirts—our mattresses—I assumed. I sat and pulled my shoes free again, already chilled by the shadows and dank walls of the tiny canyon. The river ran just outside the opening, but in the dark it had become nearly invisible. I set my shoes beside the rock wall and pulled my knees into my chest, hugging them as the hair on my arms continued to rise.

  T stood and swiped his hands across his jeans before returning to the crevice opening. He stood silently, head moving side to side as he watched for any pursuers. Minutes passed before he pushed away from the wall and returned to sit across from me.

  Cross-legged, he rested his hands in his lap and stared down at them.

  “What do we do now, T?”

  He raised his head and a smile touched his lips, his dimple deepening. Without warning, my face warmed, heat pressing up my neck to my cheeks, not stopping even after it reached my hairline. I turned away.

  “Haven’t you ever wondered what you would do if you knew no one listened, no one watched?”

  I cleared my throat, my heart now pounding in my ears so loudly he sounded muffled. I shrugged.

  “You’ve wondered, haven’t you?” His voice had become silky and deep.

  I licked my lips and swiped my hair behind my ear. “You mean …” I struggled to find the right words. “With you?”

  He laughed, his voice barely carrying past the pulsing in my head.

  I stood and paced between the narrow walls, unsure if he laughed because I understood his train of thought or because I had it all wrong. I turned to face him when a sharp pain caught my arch. I lifted my foot from the ground and hopped on my good one. “Ow, ow, ow.”

  T stood beside me instantly, supporting me even as he scanned the ground. He bent quickly, retrieved a rock and tossed it deep into the shadows. “The bugger’s been waiting to ambush you since we got here,” he teased.

  I hit him playfully, realizing I’d overreacted to the rock because of the other questions battling in my mind.

  “Want me to carry you back to the, uh, sitting area?”

  I stood on both feet again. Though sore at the moment, I knew I wouldn’t feel a thing, given time. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you?”

&n
bsp; I nodded and headed back to my shirt-mattress.

  T walked beside me. “What I meant was anything in the world,” he explained. “If you could do anything in the world without anyone listening in or watching, what would you do?”

  I’d never been allowed to think like that, so I honestly didn’t know. I hesitated and T stopped beside me, waiting. Several minutes passed before he gave up on me and said, “Of course, if you’d rather answer the other question, about what you’d like to do with me … I’m actually very curious.”

  The heat returned, and I stomped past him, sitting again and pulling off my sock to stare at the red welt on the bottom of my foot.

  A breeze must have begun again because it whistled across the top of our crevice, drawing my gaze up, head tilting back until I caught a glimpse of glittering stars.

  T’s fingers made contact with my jaw line, light and lingering. He sucked in a deep breath. I lowered my head and met his eyes. His fingers slid down my jaw to my neck, where they hesitated before making their way toward my collar bone.

  Chills raced down my arms even as my stomach fluttered. I leaned into him as he began speaking.

  “If I could do anything, knowing we were totally free, no repercussions … no men out there chasing us, trying to kill us,” He cupped my cheek, his fingers entwining in my hair and I leaned into his strength for just a moment before I straightened again as his voice changed, became light and mischievous. “I’d like to climb that wall,” he said, pulling his hand away and pointing behind me. “I’d like to scurry all the way to the top without caring that it’s dangerous, that I’m destroying flora or fauna or whatever they want to call it. I want to climb to the top and yell when I reach it, knowing I’m far enough away from any other living soul that nobody would even hear me.”

  My eyes widened, and I leaned further away from him. “You’d climb that wall—if you could do anything you wanted in the world?”