Wasteland Treasure

by Eve Langlais

  “I’ve got some vines.”

  “Good enough. Give me what you grabbed while you fetch them.”

  She handed him only one of the sacks. She didn’t need him to carry hers. When she returned with two bundles of vine, he’d somehow managed to sling the sheet sack so it hung over his shoulder. He took a bundle of rope and wound it around his waist. She followed suit.

  Was it her, or did the water sound louder? She glanced down the path to the river and could have sworn she saw a glint. Surely it hadn’t crept to this level this quickly?

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Not really,” she grumbled.

  He bumped into her before snaring her hand. “We’ll be fine. The water will probably taper before it even reaches the house. This is just a precaution.”

  The words were meant to sound soothing, and yet she got the impression that, underneath, he did worry.

  “What will we do if the water doesn’t stop rising?” They were trapped inside a veritable bowl.

  “Let’s handle that problem if we get to it. One thing at a time. Since you know where the highest point is, you lead. Kitty and I will follow.”

  Giving her a task actually helped to focus her. It wasn’t as if she’d not climbed the location before.

  She moved for the rock ruins behind the house. The collapse from the mountain wall had crushed the back end of the home and any yard it might have possessed. A shame she’d thought upon discovering it, but now, needing to get onto elevated ground, it provided a slope that took them well above the roofline of the house. Unfortunately, their elevation didn’t quite reach the top of the mountain.

  By the time they panted their way to the peak of the debris, she realized it wouldn’t be enough. The sun had begun sinking in the sky, but she could still see the dilemma creeping toward them.

  “The water is still rising,” was her grim announcement.

  “I was afraid it might. I’m just surprised it didn’t happen before now. The pressure that must have been behind that rock…”

  The scarier thing was it could have happened at any time. She now understood that the leaking she’d seen coming from the sword was a warning. She should have heeded the change in the river. Lucky for her, at least she was able to stay ahead of the rising waters. She didn’t want to imagine what she would have done if the house flooded while she slept.

  “What are we going to do if it reaches us?” Because it showed no signs of stopping.

  “Can you swim?”

  “No. And what good will that do? We can’t swim forever. How will we eat? Sleep?”

  His lips pressed into a line. “I wish I could see.”

  “How would seeing change the situation? We’re going to drown.” She couldn’t help the morose statement.

  “We are not giving up yet. How tall is the mountain still?”

  “At least another four or five of you.”

  “Which is longer than our ropes,” he mused aloud. “Anything else around? A ledge? A hole?”

  “Nothing we can reach.” She saw an actual cave far to their left. A dark maw that reminded her of the one the river entered and exited via, now submerged.

  “Time to use those vines. We need to tether ourselves, so we don’t lose each other.”

  “What about Kitty?”

  “Kitty is a survivor. She’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you. Stay close to the wall. As the water lifts us, try and use any hand- and toeholds you can find it to keep your face above it.”

  His hands worked quickly, taking her vine and looping it around them both, staying balanced despite the slim lip of rock they stood on.

  The last slice of sunlight began to slip past the far edge of the mountain, and her pulse raced in panic. “I’m scared, Gunner.”

  “Don’t be, sweetheart. You’re tough. You’ll survive this.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  He reached for her and held her hands. “Because I didn’t just find you to lose you.”

  She knew he said it only to soothe her, but she still enjoyed it. “I’m glad I met you.” Glad she met a man who brought her pleasure, not fear. Who didn’t mind how tightly she gripped him when the sun dipped past the mountains and they plunged into darkness.

  “Breathe, sweetheart.”

  Instead she squeaked as she felt the first lap of water against her toes. Cold water. It rose past her ankles.

  Kitty let out a very unhappy meow.

  “If we survive—"

  “Not if. We are going to live to see the dawn.” He squeezed her hand.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I refuse to die until you and I have done our best to put a baby in your belly.”

  For some reason, she blurted out, “I forgot to bring a cup.”

  Which made him laugh. A boisterous sound with no fear at all. “Screw your cup and a sample. We’re going to make a child the ancient way.”

  “Oh.” In the darkness, her cheeks heated.

  He drew her to his chest and did his best to keep her tucked as long as he could. The water crept higher, past her knees, and moved up her thighs. The amount of liquid was staggering. The rapidity of the rise even more astonishing. Soon they were gripping the rocky wall to stay afloat. The water kept rising, and her feet lost purchase.

  She squeaked, and Kitty let out a mournful yowl.

  It was Gunner who murmured, “Hold on. It can’t keep flowing higher forever.”

  Maybe it would. Maybe it would lift to the top of the mountains and then carry them over to be dashed over the other side.

  “Do you feel that?” he asked suddenly, his face a lighter shadow in the scant starlight.

  “Feel what?” Cold. Wet. Miserable. She didn’t want to complain, given they weren’t actually dead.

  “The water’s starting to tug.”

  She opened her mouth to refute his claim then felt the slight current. “What does it mean?”

  “A way out.”

  Her eyes widened. “The cave! I thought I saw one. But we couldn’t reach it before.”

  “Let’s see if we can reach it before it’s flooded.”

  “How are we supposed to find it in the dark?” she asked.

  “Follow the current.”

  The good news was the hole the water found not only gave them a direction it also slowed the water. The closer they drew to the cave, the stronger the current.

  “Hold on to the rope,” he advised. “I think we’re about to go on a ride.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, the current sucked them all in, much to Kitty’s yowling displeasure. Sofia went from seeing stars to pure darkness. The echo and roar of water being tunneled through the mountain surrounded her, moving faster and faster before sloping down. She screamed, the sound lost in the rush as the water flung her, bouncing her off rocky walls, dunking her head under, and trying to drown her with mouthfuls of water. The only thing that kept her sane was the tug of the rope around her waist. Knowing he was near.

  After forever, the water shot free and dragged her along with it. She screamed as she felt herself go airborne.

  She jolted as the tether on her waist held. It didn’t stop her from swinging and slamming into a rocky face.

  “Ouch,” she whimpered against the rock.

  Amidst the constant roar of water, she heard Gunner yell, “Hold on. I’ll pull you up to the ledge.”

  A glance through wet lashes and enough starlight meant she saw him silhouetted against a rocky wall, his hands gripping the vine. Doing his best to pull her up.

  Which was when the vine snapped and she plummeted.

  Twelve

  Horror filled Gunner as the moment the vine tore and Sofia plummeted.

  The jolt almost dragged off him the ledge. He moved quickly to pull up the rope; he just wasn’t fast enough. Kitty, who’d managed to somehow claw her way to safety on the other side of the hole, roared when the makeshift rope snapped.

  He almost yelled too because he
knew Sofia couldn’t swim. If she didn’t die in the fall, she’d drown. He didn’t even think twice.

  “I’m going after her. See you at the bottom, Kitty.” Gunner dove off the edge.

  The chance was strong he’d die, especially if the water was shallow. If he didn’t die pulverized by rocks, then he could still drown, especially if he lost his way under the water.

  He could get eaten. Monsters lived everywhere, and all of them had a taste for human flesh.

  Or he might finally get a decent break and find Sofia before she sank and get them both to shore.

  Luck, don’t fail me now.

  He hit the surface of the water and dropped like a rock, far enough that he wondered if there was a bottom. He hit it with enough momentum he was able to bend his legs and push. He kicked to the surface and emerged, yelling, “Sofia!”

  If she answered, he didn’t hear it over the roar of the waterfall.

  “Sofia!” He floated on top of the water, not hearing anything above the sound of falling water.

  He kicked, moving outwards, following the slight current. Something bumped him from underneath, and he froze, making his body as still as possible. He was nudged again, and suddenly, finding shore seemed a very good idea.

  He swam for it, muttering, “Fuck me. I will not be eaten by a fish.”

  “Don’t fight it! It’s not dangerous.”

  The shout had him freezing again, because it sounded like Sofia. “Sweetheart? Is that you?”

  “Gunner!”

  “Holy fuck. I’m coming. Keep talking.” He aimed for her voice. Whatever bumped him along was bringing him closer.

  Anything that didn’t eat him was good. His feet hit bottom, and he realized he could stand. He sloshed forward, barely keeping his balance as Sofia threw herself at him.

  “You’re here! How did you get down so quickly?” she exclaimed.

  “I jumped.”

  “To save me?” she squeaked.

  “Of course.” Then, because he was ridiculously happy to realize she was alive, he cupped her face and drew her close for a kiss. A long kiss. “I told you we couldn’t die.”

  She laughed. “I can’t believe we’re alive. Where’s Kitty?”

  “Up top most likely. I’m hoping she can find a way down.”

  “I’m sure she will. She’s clever that way.”

  “What was that in the water? Did you see it?” he asked, amazed there existed something in this world that wasn’t trying to kill him.

  “Some kind of strange creature. Like a slither, but bigger, with a fin on its back. It was hard to see. It only popped out of the water for a second.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t drown.” He kissed her again, passion simmering, but he was too tired, wet, and cold to do anything about it.

  He pulled away reluctantly and took stock of their situation. They had almost nothing left. They’d lost their packs during the wild ride, and while he’d been lucky enough to keep the sword strapped by his side, and Sofia a knife, they had nothing else, not even a flint, which meant huddling on a rock, her body spooned against his, shivering in their damp clothes, waiting for the dawn. It didn’t prove to be a restful slumber.

  The dawn, when it appeared, prickled his lids hotly, making him realize he’d lost the bandage sometime during his swim.

  The morning glare glowed orange, and holding his breath, he tried to open his eyes, only to cringe as they burned. “Fuck.”

  “What’s wrong?” She obviously either slept lightly or not at all.

  “My eyes still hurt.” They also watered fiercely.

  “You lost your bandage,” she chided.

  “A bandage isn’t going to make a difference. You need to try and heal me again.”

  “I can’t. I don’t have anything to put on your eyes.”

  “You don’t need any creams or potions. Use your magic. Or psionic power. Whatever you want to call it.”

  “I don’t have powers. Let me see if I can find something that might soothe,” she grumbled.

  “Don’t go far. We don’t know what kind of dangers might lurk.”

  “Is this a good time to mention we appear to be in a dead forest? The land is dry and cracked, the trees twisted and stunted.”

  “What of the water?”

  “Good thing we slept on high ground. Looks like the lake we landed in rose overnight.”

  “Are we in danger? Do we need to move?”

  “I think we’re okay. The higher waterfall has stopped pouring.”

  “What higher waterfall?”

  “The one I think we came out of. There’s still another one much lower. I bet it’s the one by the house that exits the mountain.” Her voice came from his left.

  “Any sign of Kitty?”

  “Not yet. Don’t move and keep your eyes shut.” Something cold and slimy was smeared on his face.

  “That better be mud.”

  “What else would it be?”

  “Poop.” He said it bluntly.

  Sofia giggled. “That would mean touching it, so no. Ew.”

  Her mirth did something to him. Wrenched him inside. “You should laugh more often.”

  “Hasn’t been much to laugh about,” she remarked, spreading the mud.

  “Maybe that will change.”

  “Given we left a place that could feed and house us and are now in a dead forest, I doubt it.”

  “Where there’s water, there is life,” he said.

  “No spare clothes or supplies. Not even shoes. I lost mine in the lake.”

  “We’ll find you some new ones. One day at a time, sweetheart. We escaped. Next, we survive.”

  She sighed and leaned into him, her comfort around him a thing he took pleasure in.

  “And then what?” she asked. “Feels like all I’ve been doing is surviving. When does it become less work?”

  For once he had an answer. “When you share that burden with someone else.”

  “Is this an endorsement to join your Wasteland gang?”

  “And if it is?

  “How can they help me? I thought they were looking for a home.”

  “Once we find one…” He shrugged.

  “Then what?”

  What indeed. It was probably cocky, but he said it anyway. “We make a baby. Maybe even more than one.”

  She snorted. “Who says I’d want you to make a second?”

  He tugged her close. “Because you can’t get any more awesome than me.”

  “Conceited much?” she teased, but she didn’t pull away.

  “Admit it, I’m growing on you.”

  “I admit nothing.” She pressed her fingers to his muddy lids and whispered, “Heal.” Then more deeply. “Heal.”

  The heat hit, igniting his lids, and he couldn’t help but place his hands on her waist, drawing her close, his face nuzzling her damp top. The heat from her fingers stuttered then increased as the digits slid away and only her thumbs pressed. The change in her grip meant he could press even closer and feel the rapid flutter of her heart.

  If he touched her between the legs, would he find her as damp as before? She’d been so wet and ready for him. Responsive to his touch.

  He kissed her through the fabric of her shirt and rubbed his mouth sideways to skim the curve of her breast, loving how her breath hitched.

  When the heat finally stopped, they both panted. Rather than kneel by him, she straddled him, her core pressing against him, his erection ready to redeem itself. He cupped her cheeks and drew her in for a kiss.

  Her sweet, soft lips parted and welcomed it.

  “Good morning,” he whispered softly and opened his eyes. The mud and sunlight stabbed them, and he shut them again, feeling them tear and burn.

  She chuckled. “You might want to wash the mud off first.”

  What he wanted was to take off his pants and sink into her. Have her ride him until she came so hard again she literally exploded.

  But his eyes burned as if they had soap in them.
The water was nearby, and he spent a moment rinsing his face. When he was done, he blinked and got a blurry mash of colors. He shut them and used the hem of his shirt to wipe at his face. Then opened them again before he yelled in relief, “I can see!”

  He whirled and looked for the woman he’d been spending the last few days with. More beautiful than he could have imagined. Her hair long and dark. Disheveled, but he’d felt the silken sheen of it when washed and brushed. Her figure was trim yet curvy, which he knew by feel. Her head ducked, giving him only the barest curve of her cheek.

  “Sofia,” he teased. “Look at me. You healed me.”

  “No, I didn’t.” She wouldn’t lift her head. “The mud here must be potent.”

  “You’re potent,” he grumbled and swept her into his arms. “You’re the one who saved my eyes.” Who’d saved him.

  The woman who melted at his touch but now acted as if she couldn’t bear to look at him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as she kept her chin down and her hair fell in her face, covering it.

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why won’t you look at me?”

  A heavy breath heaved out of her. “Fine.” Her chin angled, and she looked him square in the face. Her eyes vivid, the lashes thick. Her lips a sensual bow he wanted to taste again.

  “There you are,” he said with a crooked smile. He went to drop a light kiss on her mouth, but she pulled away.

  “You don’t have to pretend.”

  “Pretend what?”

  “That you still want me.”

  He blinked. “I am not pretending.”

  “Please. I know you can see the scar. It’s hideous.” Her hand lifted to her cheek.

  The slash went across it in a silvery line that he barely noticed. But apparently it bothered her. “If you don’t like it, then heal it.”

  Her lips turned down. “I tried. They must have done something so it wouldn’t heal. Nothing I’ve applied to it has worked.”

  “Then don’t worry about it. It’s a scar. So what.” He shrugged. “Everyone has some.”

  “You don’t.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve got plenty. See…” His voice trailed off as he lifted his hands to show her. He frowned. “What happened to my scars?” His hands remained calloused, but the slash across the back of the left one, recently a jagged strip, showed only a light line, as if he’d tanned wrong.