Kayla
The bridge crashes into the water behind us. The noise is like thunder, and I jump in my seat. Behind us, the river is a raging torrent, and in front of us the rain slashes against the dented hood of the car.
Jace keeps his eyes on me, steady and reassuring.
“We can’t stay here,” he says calmly but firmly. “We’re too close to the river, and a car coming the other way could go straight into us.”
“Okay.” I swallow down the rising panic and take a deep breath; I can’t get hysterical in front of him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, which is when I realize I’m gripping my phone so hard my fingers are turning white.
I’m not okay. We narrowly missed being swept away in a flash flood, and now the car’s broken down and it’s raining hard. But I don’t want Jace to think I’m a wimp.
I release my grip on my phone and scroll through the map. My fingers tremble, but I focus on looking for an alternative route. “We’re about fifteen miles from the retreat.”
I keep my voice steady. It’s too far to walk in this weather and too far to go back, and I have no idea how we’re going to get through this, but Jace is calm so I’m going to stay calm too.
Jace dials his friend back, but the call doesn’t go through.
“I’ve got no signal.” He curses and fires off a quick text. “The storm must be messing with the cell towers. I’ve texted Grant our situation and location. It probably won’t get through, but I’ll keep trying.”
“My phone’s got signal.” I wave the map.
“It must be cached. Don’t close that map. And see if you can find a dwelling of any sort nearby.”
He reaches into the back seat and tugs his army-issue backpack toward him. From one of the numerous pockets, he pulls out a map and a compass. “I’m going to look the old-fashioned way.”
I don’t question why he carries a map and compass. I’m just glad he does, and I’m glad he’s here and thinking about where we can find shelter. A few minutes later, Jace folds up the map.
“Unless you’ve found anything else, there’s an old mining hut about two miles north of here. It’s through the forest and uphill. Are you going to be okay with that?”
Rain lashes the windows, and the wind shakes the car. I want to curl up in a ball and wait until all this is over, but it’s getting dark outside and Jace is right; we can’t stay here.
“I’ll be fine.”
Jace pulls his pack into the front seat and begins throwing out clothing.
“Take only what you need. A change of clothes, any food and water, and any survival gear you have.”
“Survival gear?”
“Matches, iodine tablets, first aid kit...”
I shake my head, feeling like a stupid civilian. “I don't have anything like that.”
He grins. “Luckily I do, sweetheart. I’m trained for this. I’ll get us to the shelter, if you just do as I ask.”
“You’re irritatingly confident, bordering on arrogant.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You’re telling me this now?”
“The dressing down. I never got to give you the dressing down.”
He chuckles. “Sounded like a compliment to me.”
I roll my eyes, but I appreciate him keeping the mood light.
I brought a suitcase and a small daypack. But Jace doesn’t comment as I pull my flimsy rain jacket out of the case and a change of clothes and stuff them into my small day pack.
“You got a rain cover for that backpack?”
I shake my head. “No, nothing like that.”
“Are you sure?”
Jace takes the pack off me and finds a Velcro opening on the underside of the pack that I never knew existed. From the hidden pouch, a rain-cover materializes. It’s attached to the bag at the seam and fits snugly over my pack.
“I didn’t know that was even there.”
He shakes his head at me, grinning. “The things you learn.”
His expression turns serious. “It’s going to be treacherous out there. And the visibility isn’t good in this weather, especially with nighttime closing in.”
I swallow hard but don’t let the fear show on my face. I trust Jace to get us to the shelter.
He holds up a length of rope from his backpack.
“I’m going to tie you to me so we don’t get separated. You need to stop for any reason; you tug on this rope. Can you do that?”
I hear what he’s not saying: that there could be more flooding, that the ground could slip under us, that one wrong step and we could get washed away.
A hundred things could happen, but I try not to think about them.
I can’t control those things. All I can control is my breathing, keeping my mind focused, and doing what Jace says to get us to safety.
I focus on his eyes, and they’re steady and confident. He’s trained for this, I remind myself. And even though we’re about to step into the unknown, I feel safe with Jace.
“I can do that.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
We open the car door at the same time and step out.
Cold rain hits my face, and the shock of it has me reeling.
I gasp for air, then see Jace moving around to my side of the vehicle.
I remember what I need to do, and I shoulder my backpack and push down the discomfort of the icy rain.
My yoga pants are immediately soaked, and this flimsy rain jacket isn’t going to keep my top half dry for long either.
I have the hood over my head and the cords pulled snug so only a bit of my face is exposed.
Jace does the same. It’s pointless trying to speak to each other over the noise of the rain.
I hold my arms up and he threads the rope around my waist, and even though we’re in the middle of a rainstorm, his touch warms me in the best way.
He ties the other end of the rope to his waist, and now we’re joined together, with about two feet of rope as leeway.
It’s unsettling, being tied to a man and following someone else’s lead. To surrender control of the situation is terrifying, but also a relief because it’s Jace. I trust him. More than trust. I’m glad it’s him here with me. And that’s as disconcerting as the weather.
Jace looks me in the eye and gives a thumbs-up. He raises his eyebrows, and I get that it’s a question.
I nod once, and he gives a small smile. He leans in until his lips skim my cheek, and I can just hear him through my raincoat. His breath tickles my skin, and it’s a welcome warmth in this icy rain.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe.”
Then he steps away, and we move off the road and up the side of the bushes. But the heat of his breath lingers on my cheek as we head into the forest.