Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Iwas back in the lookout.
Shadows hung over everything, hiding all of the happy memories I’d made in shades of gray. The shutters were closed, blocking out the view of the world outside, and where the door used to be, the wall and windows continued in one long line, erasing the exit entirely.
Somewhere far, far away, I was aware my body sank deeper into the lake. Someone followed right after me, though, diving in headfirst.
Charlie.
His strong arms wrapped around my shoulders, trying and failing to swim us both back to the surface. He couldn’t keep a solid enough form to hold on.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said to me again. He was right beside me in the lookout, now. Sadness marred his beautiful face, and a tear escaped down his cheek.
I sighed heavily. “I know. I’m sorry. I tried to hold on.”
Mom’s smile, full of laughter at something Keith had said, flitted through my thoughts. Dad’s quiet joy at spending slow days out in the forest together made the backs of my eyes burn. I thought of Bobby, laughing so hard water came out his nose.
I wasn’t able to say goodbye to any of them.
I wiped away the tears tracking down Charlie’s cheeks and the ones on my own. There was so much life we hadn’t had the chance to do, so many things we hadn’t been able to say.
I wanted so badly to give those things to him; to bring him into the land of the living. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to accomplish it.
Death was greedy, though, and in the end, stole us both.
I took his hand, needing the reminder I wasn’t alone, but instead of feeling the soft brush of his fingers against mine, the oddest thing happened.
Colors, bright as the sunsets he loved so much, glowed from our joined palms. An amalgamation of soft oranges, pinks, and purples slipped through our fingers, shining brighter and brighter the longer we held on to each other.
Back in that faraway place, someone else dove into the water above us, backlit by the beaming spotlight hovering overhead. He hooked an arm through mine and Charlie’s, who’d slipped into unconsciousness next to me, and kicked hard for the surface.
I couldn’t remember his name, but I knew he was our friend.
Somehow, we made it. Linking an arm through both of ours, he grabbed onto an inflatable floatation device and held on as we were dragged to the shore by a rope attached to the helicopter still hovering above.
“What are you doing?” Charlie asked, panicked by the unexpected phenomenon of our joined palms.
I tore my eyes away from the sight to look up at him, ready to ask the same, only to be distracted by the life I saw in his face.
I didn’t have to search for it. The blush on his cheeks was no longer a dusting, but rather a splash of color. His eyes shone clear and bright, and his lips were pink and full.
“Reece, what’s happening?” he asked again.
Awed that he could become even more beautiful than he already was, I shook my head. “I’m not sure.”
I had an idea, though.
The more alive he looked, the paler I became. Now, my hand was the see-through one. My fingers slipped through his, instead of the other way around.
“Stop it,” he growled, trying to sever our connection. “You’re giving up. Stop it!”
A second man joined the first once we reached the shore, propelling down after sending a stretcher ahead of him.
“I’ll start CPR!” my friend yelled over the deafening sound of the helicopter. “You hold pressure on the wound!”
“What about him?” the other asked, firmly pressing something against the gaping wound in my chest. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses in the dark, but for some reason, that was what I wanted to call him.
“He’s not alive, remember?”
The pressure let up for a second before returning, hard. “He has a pulse!”
“Then get a second stretcher!”
“I’m not trying to do anything,” I told Charlie, squeezing his hand tighter. It felt very important not to let go, now. Like our roles reversed, and I was the one clinging to him for once. Or maybe, we were holding on to each other.
Maybe we always had been.
“I don’t know what’s happening!”
The colors swirled up our arms, almost tickling as they danced like heatless flames along my skin.
“I don’t want this,” Charlie said, angry and defiant. He grabbed hold of my nape, bringing our foreheads together and closing the loop, feeding the current of energy flowing into him back toward me. “Not without you.”
With the kind of deep knowing that only came from personal experience, I understood exactly how he felt. So, I cupped his cheek with my free hand. “Alright, then. Together.”
Whatever happened, we’d face it together.
Color exploded all around us, like a painting poured onto a canvas. Gone were the shadows obscuring our beautiful little home. The windows blew wide open, and the sunset hues swirled and swirled, spilling out into the real sky above.
“He’s stopped bleeding!” Not-Wearing-Sunglasses yelled, words nearly drowned out by the sound of the propellers.
“WHAT?” Tate shouted back. He hovered over me, pounding on my chest to force what little oxygenated blood remained through my heart and out to the rest of my body.
“HE’S STOPPED BLEEDING! THERE’S NO WOUND!”
The compressions halted, rough hands pulling the bloody piece of cloth away. “I don’t understand—what happened?”
“Maybe the shot missed him?”
“No, I saw it! He’s covered in blood!”
Sunglasses shrugged. “The other one’s breathing is shallow. We need to get them in the chopper, now.”
“You go first, I’ll keep working on him.”
With the color returned to our lookout, I realized I wasn’t see-through anymore. Neither was Charlie. By closing the loop, he fed the energy I gave him right back into me.
Mine, and then his.
Mine again, now his.
Ours.
Around and around and around. All I could do was hold on.
I peered through the open windows behind him. They faced west, overlooking the forest we’d watched over together.
Just a hint of a Mountain Bluebird sky peeked through the brewing thunderheads bathed in warm sunset hues. Over the distant ridge, a hazy, orange glow threatened fire; embers sparking and popping through the air. For a moment, I wondered if that was what came after death, beckoning us both.
But why would it be filled with more hardship and strife? More uncertainty?
I looked back at the storm clouds overhead and the raging fire just out of sight. Those things weren’t a finality.
They were a possibility.
A future.
If we decided to leave the lookout, to walk into that great unknown, the blaze might burn out by the time we arrived.
Or, we might have to walk through it.
We could be caught in a storm and left with nothing but each other to brave the elements. Or it could pass us by, merely shading our journey from the harsh sun.
We wouldn’t know, unless we tried.
And oh, did I want to try with Charlie. Always with Charlie.
“I think we’re meant to go out there,” I whispered, still clinging to him. The door reappeared, propped open wide for us in invitation.
He looked over his shoulder at the beautifully foreboding vista, eyes weary. “What’s going to happen if we do?”
I kissed his temple. “I’m not sure.”
He looked into my eyes. “There’s a fire out there, though. And a storm is coming. What if we get hurt?”
I wrapped my arms around his middle, bumping our chests together. “We almost certainly will, but I still want to go with you.”
“TATE! WE HAVE TO GO! NOW!”
Sunglasses was already back up into the helicopter along with Charlie. He leaned out the side, beckoning for us to follow.
“ALRIGHT!” Tate yelled, strapping me into the stretcher.
“You hold on, you stubborn idiot,” he said to me as we were lifted into the air. “I’m not nearly as open-minded as you are. I’m not gonna be your friend if you show up as a ghost to haunt me.”
“I’m scared, Reece,” Charlie said. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this.”
Smiling, I tugged him toward the door. “You are. And we’ll do it together. I’ll never let go.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
He took my hand in his again. The world around us surged, sunset orange and the deepest blue of night smudging together, like bleeding watercolors meeting across the page.
I could see Charlie standing before me, whole and healthy, and lying on a stretcher next to me, soaked through and barely breathing.
Urgency tugged on those blue-black shades all around us, telling me to return to that darker place. It was time to go.
Charlie must’ve felt it, too. “Ready?” he asked, poised to step out the door.
Movement out of the corner of my eye made me turn.
The Thing appeared just on my other side. He looked right at me, gaze boring into mine more directly than ever before. Something quiet passed between us; a truce. For now, at least.
Together, we faced ahead, toward the possibilities that lay before us.
He was coming along, too.
I stepped away from the small shaving kit mirror propped on the counter and squeezed Charlie’s hand.
“Ready.”