Under the moon’s achromatic sheen, the forest appeared black and white, like an old-time photograph. In the background, the river’s constant flow haunted Jo. She couldn’t stop thinking that Red had probably drowned; Lary could die before the night was over; beings not alive or dead, but somewhere in-between, were set on drinking them to death, or making them part of their ungodly clan.
Galen said he’d protect them. How? But he had driven the demons away. The venomous look in their eyes when he had approached them kept a kernel of misgiving in Jo’s mind: they knew him enough to fear him; he knew them enough not to be afraid of them.
Jo pondered this as she followed him through the colorless forest. His pace was brutal, and though she understood why he kept it, she was irritated watching him moving farther away. He seemed unconcerned about the wounded—and her. He had been her savior, now he was leaving her behind.
She mashed her lips together and huffed. Her boldness swelled. “Galen!” She shouted his name, quick and sharp.
He stopped and turned. His face was in the shadows under the pine trees.
“Slow down.” Her angry mouth softened to a pout.
He waited for the group to catch up with him. Jo took a breath, preparing to admonish him. She started to speak—
“Guys! Look!” April was peering into the trees and pointing.
Jo followed her gaze and stared until the dark outline of a house emerged.
“Good eyes, April!” Drew praised her.
The group forgot about their weary feet and wounds. Everyone moved in whatever quick fashion they could to get to the house.
“Must be a hunter’s cabin,” Mike said. “Probably closed up for the summer.”
Jo stepped onto the wooden porch. She jiggled the handle of the front door, but it was locked. Mike turned to his side with the healthy wrist and threw his weight against the door. The impact rattled the window next to it, but nothing more. He prepared to do it again, but Jo touched his arm and pointed to the top of the door frame. He ran his hand along it and knocked down a piece of metal. It bounced on the porch and Galen picked it up.
“Try this,” he handed the key to Mike.
Mike shot Jo a smile as he swung the door open.
They poured into the dark, cold cabin, fanning out through the rooms. There was a brief cacophony of opening and slamming drawers, closing cupboards, and, occasionally, muffled exclamations from someone running into something.
Jo found a couch against the back wall and told Dove to put Lary on it. He didn’t want to lie down, but Dove insisted. He passed out as soon as his head hit the cushion. Dove sat beside him, holding his hand, rocking back and forth.
Drew went up the stairs to investigate a loft and a few minutes later stood at the rail hollering. He had found a flashlight. Its white beam speared the darkness. He hopped down the staircase excitedly, tripping on the last few steps, exiting the staircase on his bottom. Ben, Mike and the girls dashed to him. They made sure he was Ok “Hey, at least I can say I had a good trip.” Everyone chuckled. It broke the tension.
The flashlight comforted Jo, even though the light was harsh and there wasn’t much of it.
“There’s a bed up there,” Drew said. “You girls should take it.”
“I’m staying with Lary,” Dove said.
“I’m stayin’ down here,” Jo stated adamantly. “April, you can have it.”
April limped over to the small kitchen table and sat in one of the chairs. “I don’t want to be up there by myself.” She folded her arms on top of the table and laid her head on them.
“I have no problem being up there by myself, but I’ll share,” Ben said, with his back to the group as he investigated a canvas-covered lump by the fireplace. “Hey, firewood!”
“Awesome. Too bad we don’t have a lighter,” Mike lamented.
Jo frowned, thinking of their backpacks—and her jacket—on the other side of the river.
“Drew, over here.” Ben called for him to join him in the kitchen, where he was foraging through the cupboards and drawers.
Jo found towels and blankets and brought her loot to the futon in the middle of the living room and dropped it on one end.
“Oh, this is interesting,” Ben said.
Jo hoped he’d found something to eat, but he was holding up a small wad of grey material, shining the flashlight on it. “I’m guessing that’s not dinner,” she said.
“Better! Well…good, anyway,” he recanted.
She wasn’t sure why a glob of steel wool was a good thing. She rubbed her flat abdomen to comfort her empty stomach.
“Sorry, guys, it’s going to be dark for a minute.” Ben switched off the flashlight and opened it, spilling the batteries out while Drew stuffed wood and kindling into the fireplace.
Jo sat down on the edge of the futon and untied her hiking boots, pushing them off with her toes. She peeled off her wet socks and ran her fingers over the wrinkled skin of her damp, achy feet. She leaned back and rested her head on the cushion, her arm on the pile of blankets. Her tired eyes wandered over to the window.
Galen had pushed open the brown curtains. One side of his face was glazed by moonlight. His thumbs were hooked in his pockets, his back straight and his body taut. Jo bit down on the corner of her bottom lip and raised her head off the cushion. What is he looking at? She pictured the vampires creeping up on the cabin. Though her boots were stiff and cold now, she slipped them back on and tied them, pushing her wet socks underneath the futon.
In the fireplace, a flame ignited the kindling. It crawled upwards, eating into the bigger chunks of wood, snapping and sizzling. The group cheered and gathered in front of it. Dove came away from Lary’s side to soak up the heat.
“Ben! How’d you do that?” Dove rubbed her arms briskly.
“Just some steel wool and a battery. Not much to it.”
The friends exchanged looks and shared chuckles.
“Thanks, Ben.” Jo squeezed the tops of his soft shoulders as he knelt before the hearth, stoking the fire.
“Can you make some steak and lobster now?” Drew asked.
The group laughed—and groaned.
As Jo gazed into the bright, twisting flames, her smile dissolved. Anxiousness writhed inside her over the events of the night and thoughts of the hellish creatures out in the woods, just beyond thin walls. Her gaze moved to the window and crept up to Galen’s face.
Galen turned his head and looked directly at her. A wavering amber glow lit his face and his eyes changed from a smoke color to lucent grey. She was drawn into them, pulled by a force like the tide being sucked back into the ocean. The firelight flickered to orange, and in that second, that lightning strike of a moment, she saw valor, and something else, something she couldn’t quite grasp, concealed behind the silver luster. He broke the bond with a quick turn of his head. Jo focused her eyes back on the fire. She was baffled about what had just transpired between them, but chalked it up to her imagination and exhaustion. The heat from the fire had relaxed her. Her mind floated in warm fatigue. She forbade herself to look over at him again and didn’t until his voice broke the stillness. “Let’s get some sleep.”
Mike was kneeling by the hearth. He stood up and bumped Jo’s arm. “Sorry,” he said, flashing a grin—but his smile fell. His brow furrowed and his expression change to something resembling anger. “Jo, what the heck?” He reached his good hand up to her face, gently grasping her chin, turning her head so he could see her injured cheek. Firelight revealed the purplish-blue bruise on her cheekbone. It also lit up the marks on her upper arms left by the vampire’s fingernails. They were clotted with dried blood and resembled a thin rash. He picked up her wrist and studied the reddish imprints in the shape of fingers. “What happened to you?” He was eyeing her wounds, but then he looked straight at Galen. His eyes constricted and he bristled.
“No.” Jo pulled her arm from his hand, causing him to look back at her. “Galen saved my life,” she told him, softly. “The vampires did all this.”
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His hard expression softened. “Sorry, man,” he apologized to Galen.
Galen smirked. “That’s Ok. It’s not the first time today someone misunderstood my intentions.” He gazed at Jo. Something only they understood flickered in his eyes.
Jo smiled back at him. Mike’s hand touched her arm. “I bet that hurts.” He spoke tenderly as he eyed the swollen skin on her cheek.
Jo glanced at his mouth, at those soft, moist lips. “Only when I breathe.”
Mike grinned. Galen expelled a breath behind her, loud enough to be heard.
Jo was still dreamily looking at Mike when Dove called her. She turned away from him, against her will.
“How is he?” She asked Dove, kneeling beside the couch where Lary was having a rough and uneven sleep.
“I’m not sure. I wish I had something to put on these lacerations. Should’ve taken Ben up on those weeds.” She smoothed Lary’s hair back from his forehead and her eyes were tense with worry.
Jo rubbed Dove’s shoulder. “Just a few more hours—we’ll be out of here and on our way to a hospital.”
Dove nodded. “Jo, you could use some attention too.” She inspected Jo’s face.
“I think I’ve had enough attention for one day. I just want to go to sleep. I just want this to be over with.”
“Me too.” Dove sighed. She motioned for Jo to come closer. “Do you still think Galen’s a bad-guy?”
Jo tapped a finger on her bottom lip and whispered, “No. I think I was wrong about that.”
“I’m glad, Jo.” Dove yawned. “You even had me believing it.”
“I know,” she said contritely. “But, there’s still something strange about him.” Her forehead wrinkled. “It’s like…I don’t know. I can’t figure him out.”
Dove blinked sleepily. “Maybe you don’t need to. Whatever he’s going through he’ll… work…it…out.” She spoke while yawning and sliding behind Lary’s legs, resting her head on the opposite arm of the couch. A second later, she was asleep. Jo smiled down at her and covered them both with a blanket from her stash.
In the kitchen area, Drew was lifting April from the chair. She rested her frizzy head against his shoulder, sound asleep. He laid her on the futon and covered her with a blanket, tucking it around her. His movements were gentle and Jo felt sorry for him, for wanting someone who probably never reciprocate his feelings.
“Get settled, everybody. I’ll take the first watch,” Galen announced. He had taken a kitchen chair and put it in front of the window.
Ben lumbered up the stairs to the loft. “Come on, Drew. We made the fire, we get the bed.” He eyed Mike, but there was no sign of a contest.
“Ok, but keep those iceberg feet to yourself.” Drew took a last glance at April and climbed the steps behind Ben.
Mike was standing in front of the fire, rubbing his wrist. From the side, Jo noted his pensive expression, his lips turned down, his gaze lost in the twitching flames. She timidly approached him. “Here, Mike, you can have this.” She held the last blanket out to him. She turned away, but before the fabric left her fingers, he tugged on it.
“Come on, Jo, I’ll share.” His turquoise eyes, looking into hers, caused her heartbeat to quicken.
He made her a pillow from a folded towel, dropped it near the hearth and sat down on the other side of it. He looked up at her with a boyish grin and patted the floor beside him. It wasn’t a flirty thing. He was being a gentleman. But Jo’s heart was dancing.
She sat down next to him and lay back, aiming her head for the towel, giddy and nervous about sleeping so close to him. He covered them with the blanket and eased his back down on the dusty floor beside her. Jo turned onto her side with her back to the fireplace.
Her eyes stung with the strain of the night, but she refused to close them. She wanted to capture this moment: the streaks of dirt on his tanned face, the mess that sweat and water had made of his hair as it lay crisscrossed around his head, his pale pink lips resting together. His chest moved up and down with his slow, steady breathing. Her lips pulled down into a pout. With each breath he took, her heart became weighted with guilt.
“Mike,” she whispered.
His eyes opened. Jo's stomach tensed. He turned over onto his side to face her, bending his arm under his head for a pillow. “Yeah, Jo?”
The sea-green of his eyes made her forget her words for a moment. Her hands fidgeted with the blanket. “I’m…I’m sorry I let go of Red.” Her eyes darted away from his, but slid back. His expression had turned to sadness. She wished she hadn’t said it.
He sighed. “Jo, are you kidding? I don’t blame you for letting go. I can’t believe you grabbed onto her at all. That was amazing.” His eyes marveled at her.
But another pang of guilt pierced her. “To be honest with you, Mike, if I’d known what was gonna happen, I wouldn’t have done it.”
“I think you would’ve.”
Over at the window, Galen cleared his throat.
Mike kept his gaze locked on her eyes. There was admiration in them.
“I just wish I could have held on.”
“You tried, Jo. You were insanely brave.” He glanced in Galen’s direction. “No matter what anyone else thinks.” His scowl turned into a frown. “I just can’t believe it happened—so fast. If only I had gotten to her sooner...”
“Mike, you risked your life to get to her. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“It was such a stupid for her thing to do.”
His wistfulness told her that he was reliving the moment. She couldn’t help reliving it too. Then she remembered something. “You know, I heard her talking about river rafting.”
“Yeah?”
“I did that once, when I was a teenager. The guide told us if we fell in, to point our feet downstream, angle our body and paddle towards the shore.”
“Good advice.”
“Well, if I know that, then she knew that—right?”
“I hope so.”
“I’m sure of it,” she whispered with confidence, but her expression turned rueful. “I didn’t exactly do it myself, but...”
“You panicked—that’s understandable.”
She recalled Red's terrified face looking up at her. She was pretty sure that Red had panicked too, but she wouldn’t mention that.
“I just hope she got out and was able to find help.” Mike sighed.
“I’m sure she did.”
“Where’d you get your confidence, Jo?” He adjusted the arm his head was lying on.
“I have faith.”
“Even in her case?”
Jo blinked, perplexed.
“I know you guys weren’t the best of friends.”
“I didn’t try very hard to be her friend.”
“Umm…not your fault. She wasn’t exactly a big fan of yours.”
His words stung. Jo frowned.
“Well, it’s kinda my fault,” he said quickly.
“Huh?”
“The night we all met in the parking lot next to the Sonic—remember? Red and I were sitting on my tailgate?”
“Yeah, I remember.” Jo recalled how she had lost her appetite seeing him and Red together. Red had come there to meet up with Dove, but naturally had gravitated to Mike as soon as he arrived.
“When you and Dove walked by to get your food, I told her I thought you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. I never know what color they’re gonna be—they’re like mood rings.” He gazed at her—into those ‘beautiful’ eyes. Jo blinked self-consciously. Her lips curled up and she couldn’t stop them. She tried to hide her embarrassment under the edge of the blanket.
Galen coughed.
“After that, she didn’t seem too keen on getting to know you,” Mike continued. “And she kinda resented your friendship with Dove.”
“Well, it’s nice to know there was reason for the hate.”
A grin rolled off Mike’s lips. “I think a lot of that attitude was an act.”
“An a
ct?”
“You know how sometimes people act hateful to cover up what’s really going on?”
She nodded and glanced in Galen’s direction.
“She just needs to find God’s grace.” Mike yawned and his eyelids fluttered.
Is that what Galen needs? Jo’s eyes were hot and tired. Her mind was growing mushy. Spidery legs of exhaustion walked on the flesh under her eyes.
“Jo, what happened to you guys out there?” Mike asked, yawning again.
Jo lifted her head to look back at Galen. He had propped his feet up on the windowsill and was leaning the chair back on two legs. “Can I tell you tomorrow?”
“Sure. I’m so glad you’re Ok.” He closed his bloodshot eyes. “Hey, how did that rafting trip turn out?”
“I got seasick and threw up on the guide’s shoes.”
Mike chuckled under his breath, his eyes still closed. “Ah, Jo, I guess water’s not your friend.” He was grinning. Slowly. his mouth relaxed.
Jo played his words about her eyes over and over as he slumbered. His lips were together; long, brown eyelashes guarded his eyes; soft, wheat-colored hair lay against his cheek and neck.
She was startled by Galen stirring the fire behind her and setting more wood inside the dwindling flames. The wood popped and crackled and the heat level increased.
Jo rolled onto her back and watched orange firelight dance with black shadows on the wood-beamed ceiling. Thinking of sleep gave her a moment of hope. Sleep would move her forward through time. She would wake to daylight and this nightmare would be over, in the twinkling—or rather, the closing—of an eye. She couldn’t wait. She shut her burning eyes, but someone’s whispering caused her to open them.
She propped herself up on her elbows and followed the soft sound to Galen. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers intertwined, his head bent downward. Firelight flickered in the onyx swirls of hair cloaking his face. Jo didn’t mean to listen to his private conversation, but she could have sworn he murmured her name. She sat up and turned her left ear toward him. Her eyes widened. He was praying! She tried to ease back down to the floor.
His head flew up. He looked straight at her.
Jo’s mouth fell open. “I…I’m sorry. I thought I heard something.” Her cheeks flamed with heat.
“It’s Ok. His silver eyes blinked slowly. He didn’t seem to be angry.
Jo relaxed. “Aren’t you tired, Galen?”
“No.” He looked as fresh as when they started out, except for being dirtier.
Jo lifted her side of the blanket and scooted over to the corner edge of the fireplace, close to Galen’s chair. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Are you Ok?” She asked him.
He seemed taken aback at her question. “I’m good. How ‘bout you?” His eyes examined her scratched arms and damaged cheek.
She tilted her head down to cause her hair to fall forward and hide that side of her face. “I’m fine.”
Warm fingers pressed the flesh under her chin. She was surprised by his touch. He lifted her face until her gaze met his. His candescent eyes burned. “You have great faith, Jo.”
“Thanks,” she whispered, captivated by his gaze, and the satin-black currents of hair flowing around his unblemished face.
His hand left her chin and he sat back in his chair. The wood in the fireplace hissed. Up in the loft, someone coughed.
She licked her dry lips. “Galen, why are those things afraid of you?”
He shook his head and his eyes roamed the cabin wall.
“Do you…know them?”
He regarded her with his mouth pursed lightly. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you guys at the crack of dawn and we’ll get out of here.”
Jo made a “tsk” sound. “You’re not gonna to wake anyone to take the next watch, are you?”
“No.”
“Because you don’t sleep.”
“No.”
“And you don’t feel cold—or hot.”
“Not really.”
“Why is that?”
Amusement rippled across his face. His eyes sparkled with orange light. “Good night, Jo,” he said quietly.
Her lips twisted. “Ok. Don’t answer me.” She blinked her sleep-starved eyes. “I’ll figure it out.”
He smirked.
She scooted back and got under the blanket, careful not to disturb Mike. His breathing was hard and just shy of a snore. Laying her head on the towel-pillow, she took one last glance at Galen. The terror he watched for out the window had left her mind for the last few minutes. He made her feel safe. Maybe tomorrow, while they hiked back to the chalet, she would get more out of him. She had to admit, for once, she looked forward to talking to him. Her eyes closed.
Chapter 24