9. Nina
Chapter Nine
NINA
“Axel!” I shout into the headset, my knuckles white around the microphone. “Axel, do you copy?”
Nothing but static answers me. My heart hammers against my ribs as I try every backup channel, every emergency frequency. The radio remains stubbornly silent.
“The storm took out the repeater on Eagle Ridge,” Logan says, his voice flat as he studies the system diagnostics. His scarred face betrays nothing, but the rigid set of his huge shoulders speaks volumes. “We've lost all communications with the eastern sector.”
“What about Team Three? Do we have any contact with them?”
“Negative.” Logan's response is clipped. “We won't know anything until they're back in range.”
I stare at the control panel, willing it to crackle back to life with Axel's voice. The final transmission plays on repeat in my mind. The sound of the root snapping, Axel's shout, then nothing but the roar of the storm.
“He was falling.” My voice cracks. “The last thing I heard was something breaking.”
Logan gives a single nod, his expression unreadable. “I’m going to prep for search and recovery. I need you to maintain dispatch.”
Search and recovery. Not search and rescue. The distinction isn't lost on me.
“Can I come with you? I can help. I need to do something.”
“You'll help by doing your job,” Logan replies, not unkindly. He turns away, effectively ending the conversation, his slight limp more pronounced than usual as he heads toward the equipment room.
I sink back into my chair, eyes fixed on the silent radio. Outside, the storm continues its assault, while inside, my mind is stuck on Axel. His smile. The feel of his hands on my skin last night. The way he looked at me this morning, unguarded.
One night. We had one night together, and now he might be gone.
The hours crawl by with agonizing slowness. The storm gradually moves eastward, its fury diminishing to a steady rain. Still no radio contact. No news.
I remain at the dispatch desk long after my shift should have ended, refusing all suggestions to take a break. Every few minutes, I try the radio again, hoping for a response.
The wall clock ticks past nine p.m. The rain has stopped, stars visible through breaks in the clouds. I've been at this desk for fourteen hours, running on coffee and adrenaline. The base is quiet now. I stare at the silent radio, my eyes burning with exhaustion and unshed tears.
“Come back to me. Please , Axel,” I whisper.
Static is my only answer.
I don't realize I've dozed off until a burst of radio noise jerks me awake. I fumble for my headset, heart in my throat.
“Base, this is Logan,” a voice crackles through, breaking and distant. “Do you copy?”
“Logan, this is Base,” I respond immediately, voice hoarse. “I copy. Go ahead.”
“Reached the eastern access road.” The transmission breaks up, words fading in and out. “No sign of... teams... continuing search…”
I adjust frequencies, desperate to maintain the tenuous connection. “Logan, say again. Any contact with Team One or Team Three?”
More static, then: “Negative, Base. No contact yet. Will advise when…”
The transmission cuts out entirely. I wait. An hour ticks by, then another.
I slam my palm against the console in frustration, tears threatening to spill over. No sign of Axel or the others.
The main doors swing open, letting in a gust of cool night air. I don't look up, assuming it's the night crew arriving for shift change. I'm not leaving, not until we have news, no matter what Logan says.
“Nina.”
That voice stops my breath, freezes my heart. I'm afraid to look up, afraid I've finally hallucinated what I've been desperate to hear.
“Nina,” the voice says again, rough with exhaustion but unmistakably real.
I turn slowly, afraid the apparition will vanish if I move too quickly.
Axel stands in the doorway, barely upright, supported by Hunter on one side and Logan on the other. He's soaking wet, covered in mud, blood seeping through makeshift bandages on his hands and shoulder. His face is ghost-pale beneath streaks of dirt, eyes shadowed with pain.
He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
“Axel,” I whisper, my voice failing me. I'm on my feet, moving toward him in a daze.
“Sorry I'm late,” he says, attempting a smile that turns into a grimace. “Dinner might have to wait.”
A sound escapes me, half laugh, half sob. And then I'm running, closing the distance between us. Hunter and Logan step away just in time as I throw myself against Axel's chest. His arms come around me automatically, holding me tight despite what must be considerable pain.
“You're alive,” I gasp against his neck, breathing him in. I pull back just enough to look at him, my hands framing his face as if to reassure myself he's real. “What happened? The radio…”
“Lightning strike took out all communications,” Hunter explains. “We had to haul him up manually, then hike five miles to the emergency shelter. Roads were washed out. We tried to reach base, but all equipment was fried. Had to wait for the water to recede enough to get across the creek. Logan found us and brought us back in the truck.”
I'm barely listening, too focused on the man in front of me, cataloging his injuries with growing alarm. “You need medical attention.”
“I'm fine,” Axel insists, though he sways slightly on his feet.
Logan shakes his head. “His shoulder’s dislocated.”
“Let's get you looked at,” I say, slipping under Axel's arm to help support him.
“Only if you stay with me,” he replies, leaning into me more than I think he means to.
“I'm not going anywhere.”
Two hours later, we're in my car heading to my apartment. Axel is quiet in the passenger seat, freshly bandaged, shoulder in place, painkillers beginning to take effect. The drive is silent, but I keep reaching over to touch his hand, needing the physical reassurance that he's really here.
Getting him up the stairs is a challenge, but we manage. I help him shower, carefully keeping his bandages dry, then settle him in my bed with fresh water and medication on the nightstand.
“Stay,” he murmurs as I turn to leave, intending to clean up and join him.
“Always,” I promise, slipping under the covers beside him.
He pulls me against his chest, his breathing already evening out toward sleep. I listen to his heartbeat, solid and steady beneath my ear, the most beautiful sound in the world.
“I love you,” he whispers, the words floating between us in the darkness. “I know it's fast. But when I was out there... I knew. I love you, Nina.”
For a moment, I can't speak, overwhelmed by the surge of emotion rising in my chest. Then I'm kissing him, gentle but desperate, mindful of his injuries but unable to hold back.
“I love you too,” I whisper against his lips.
His smile is tired but radiant. “Good. Because I'm never letting you go.”
“Wouldn't want you to. Someone has to keep you from falling off mountains.”
Axel laughs softly, then winces.
His breathing deepens into sleep, my head on his chest, his heartbeat steady. After hours of imagining the worst, it’s like a miracle.
This is exactly where I'm meant to be.