12. - – Clara
CHAPTER TWELVE
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CLARA
The air in the cellar had grown thin, or perhaps my lungs were simply tired of fighting as I lay curled on the cool, damp ground. Surely days had passed by now. How long could I survive without food or water?
The initial surge of adrenaline which had fueled my frantic pounding of the door had evaporated, replaced by a hollow, aching lethargy. I needed water, I was starving, and my head throbbed in time with my heartbeat.
I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I let myself slip.
Maybe it was easier this way. If I stopped fighting, the darkness wouldn’t feel so heavy.
I thought of Elias. I pictured him in his hospital bed, unaware I was rotting in a hole just miles away.
The thought of him waking up and asking for me, only to be met with silence, was the only thing keeping my heart beating. But even that feeling was fading.
I’m sorry, Elias, I whispered in the cathedral of my mind. I can’t get out.
Then, I thought I heard something. Great, now I’m delusional. I quieted my mind and there it was again.
It was faint, but I could hear it, The sharp, rhythmic yapping sounded again before another, deeper and more frantic. Dogs.
I froze, holding my breath until my chest burned. Someone was looking for me, and I began to feel hopeful once more.
"Clara? Clara, answer us!"
The voices were distant, muffled by layers of earth, wood, and cement, but they were real. My name hadn't sounded so beautiful in my entire life. I tried to scramble to my knees, but my balance was gone. Instead I slumped against the wall, my fingers clawing at the stone.
"Here!" I tried to scream, but the word died in a dry puff of air. I swallowed hard, forcing moisture into my throat. "I’m here!"
It was barely a croak. Desperation took over as a hot, panicked fire. They were close. I could hear the crunch of boots on dried leaves and the snap of branches. They were walking over my head, their footsteps vibrating through the ceiling of my tomb.
"Where is it?” a voice shouted.
Another responded, "This is the place. Under those leaves."
That voice. It was steady, authoritative, and laced with a grit I recognized from a dozen briefings. Detective Hill. Had he finally stopped harassing Elias for long enough he could turn his focus onto the truth?
I grabbed a loose stone from the floor and hammered it against the wooden door with every ounce of strength I had left. Thud. Thud. Thud. "Under here!" a new voice shouted “Miller. Hill. Over here!"
The sound of a heavy padlock being struck with metal echoed through the door, sending vibrations into my skull. Then, the screech of protesting hinges. Sunlight - blinding, violent, wonderful sunlight - poured in, slicing through the darkness like a blade.
I shielded my eyes, sobbing silently as the silhouettes of two men helped me out.
"We’ve got her," Hill shouted, his hands firm and steady on my shoulders. "Miller, call the paramedics. Tell them she’s conscious but dehydrated.”
"Elias," I managed to gasp, grabbing Hill’s sleeve. My fingers were stained with dirt and my own dried blood. "Is he… Is he okay?"
"He’s fine, Clara," Hill said, his voice softening as he lifted me effortlessly. "He’s been driving the nursing staff crazy since he woke up and found out you were missing. Let’s get you out of here."
Looking around my surroundings, I thought to myself, I can't believe I survived long enough for them to find me.
The world became a blur of blue lights, the sterile scent of an ambulance, and the cold sting of an IV needle in my arm.
The paramedics were kind, murmuring about orthostatic hypotension and severe dehydration as they pumped life back into my veins.
Every sip of water they gave me felt like a miracle.
I really needed to lay off the energy drinks.
By the time we reached the hospital, the fog in my brain was beginning to lift, though the ache in my head remained dull.
They whisked me through the double doors of the emergency department past the blurred faces of nurses and the rhythmic humming of machines.
"I need to see him," I told the nurse as she checked my vitals. "Elias Wilson. He’s on the third floor."
"He’s already on his way down, honey.” she whispered and squeezed my hand. "Detective Hill called ahead knowing Elias wasn't going to stay in his bed once he knew you would be arriving soon."
They had me propped up on a gurney, a thin hospital blanket draped over my shivering frame. I felt exposed, still covered in the grime of the cellar, but I didn't care. I just watched the curtain.
Then, the sound of wheels.
Elias appeared in the doorway, kicked back in a wheelchair being pushed by a weary-looking nurse. He looked like he was doing better. As soon as I was in his line of sight, his fierce, dark eyes were locked onto mine with an intensity that took my breath away.
"Clara," he breathed quietly.
The orderly hadn't even stopped the chair before Elias was trying to stand.
"Elias, don’t hurt yourself," I semi-lectured, my voice finally finding its strength.
I swung my legs over the side of the gurney, ignoring the protest of my muscles and the tug of the IV line.
He pulled me into his lap, his one good arm wrapping around my waist like an iron band, pulling me against his body.
I buried my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of antiseptic and him. I needed this.
I felt a tear wet against my temple. "I was so worried."
"I'm here," I sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm here, Elias. They caught him. It’s over."
He pulled back just enough to cup my face with his hand.
His thumb brushed over the dried blood on my forehead, his expression flickering with a raw, protective rage before it settled back into profound relief.
He leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet chaos of the ER.
"You look terrible," he chuckled, and I knew he was just happy to have me back.
"You still look worse," I countered, smiling through my tears.
Elias grew quiet, his gaze dropping to my hands, which were still shaking.
He took them in his, and brought them up to his lips, gently kissing my knuckles.
"There’s something you need to know and I wish I had realized this sooner.
” He paused before taking a deep breath and continuing.
“I used to be the one watching over you, Clara.
That was my job. My life. Seeing you like this…
knowing I couldn't jump out of the hospital bed to find you. It nearly killed me."
My eyes widened. “Leo?” I watched as he slowly nodded. I couldn’t believe it. This was sure to be a story for another time, but for now, I was content. Feeling protected in his grasp.
"You did watch over me," I said softly. "Thinking about you was the only thing keeping me from giving up in the cellar. You saved me long before they even found me."
Elias shook his head, his grip tightening. "Never again. From now on, where you go, I go."
He leaned forward, his lips meeting mine in a kiss tasting of salt and survival. It was a vow. For a moment, in the middle of the crowded hospital room, surrounded by the noise of healing and hurt, we were the only two people in the world.
The nightmare of the cellar was still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but as Elias held me, I knew the light had finally won.