Chapter 22
Mitch
I jolted awake to the sound of dingoes howling in the distance.
Charlie was still asleep against my chest, her breathing soft and even.
I squinted into the surrounding blackness as the howls echoed across the ravine, high and eerie, like goddamned ghosts circling in the darkness.
One started, then another answered, then a whole chorus sang their creepy song to each other.
Damn things made me shiver, dragging me back to that night locked in the shed. Another reason I hated my old man.
My left arm had gone completely numb from Charlie's head resting against it, but I didn't want to wake her. Not yet. After she'd finally stopped shivering last night, it had taken a long time for her breathing to even out.
Sleep hadn't come easily for me either. It was a bloody miracle we'd slept at all after yesterday's bullshit.
My pathetic fire had died in the middle of the night. The cold had set in after that, sharp and bitter. Outback nights were always brutal, but without shelter or a proper blaze, the temperature had dropped to the point where I could see my breath misting in the starlight.
The dingoes howled again, closer this time.
I shifted slightly, trying to ease the cramp in my back without disturbing Charlie. Every muscle ached. My ribs hurt from that fall, but I'd gotten lucky that none were broken. The cuts on my face had started to scab over, pulling tight every time I moved my jaw.
But I was alive. We were alive.
That was a bloody miracle.
Never thought I'd be in that kind of fight for my life out here on Branson land with anyone but Frank.
Somewhere in the distant trees, a kookaburra laughed. Thank Christ. Dawn must be coming.
I looked toward the eastern horizon, where the faintest hint of gray touched the sky, softening the black.
We'd made it through the night.
Charlie's breathing changed, becoming shallower. She was waking up.
I waited, giving her time to surface gradually instead of jolting awake in panic.
Her hand moved, fingers spreading against my chest. Then her body tensed. She jerked upright with a sharp gasp, lurching away from me like I'd burned her.
"Hey, it's okay," I said, touching her back. "You're with me, Mitch."
"Sorry." Her voice was rough with sleep. "I didn't know where I was."
"It's fine. You good?"
She sat there for a moment, knees to her chest, breathing hard, getting her bearings. In the growing pre-dawn light, she looked pale. Her hair was a mess, and dark smudges covered her left cheek and chin.
Considering what we'd been through, she still looked amazing.
I'd served with women who could hump a ruck for twenty miles without breaking a sweat, they were tough as nails, every one of them.
Charlie had that same kind of strength, the kind that came from somewhere deep and didn't quit even when the shit hit the fan.
But there was a softness about her, too, a vulnerability that triggered every protective instinct I'd spent years learning to suppress.
It was messing with my head in ways I didn't have time for.
I liked her. I liked her a lot. And that was dangerous.
She was way too sweet for a man dragging around the ton of baggage I carried.
She cleared her throat. "What time is it?"
"No idea. But I heard a kookaburra a minute ago, so dawn's coming."
As if on cue, a kookaburra called again.
Charlie nodded. "Nature's alarm clock."
"Yeah, and they'll get louder when the whole family starts going."
We both struggled to our feet, and my back seized up with sharp stiffness. Charlie must’ve been in agony, too. The pair of us had taken a battering. "How are your feet?"
"They're fine." Her lips drew to a thin line. But when she took just one step, she sucked air through her teeth, fighting the pain.
I reached for her. "Jesus, Charlie, you can't walk like that."
"Yeah, well, I have to, don't I?" She pulled away from my touch.
"Charlie—"
"I don't have a choice, Mitch." Her voice was firm, her glare unyielding. "We can't stay here. So, I'm walking. End of discussion."
Stubborn. I'd give her that.
But she was also right. The sky grew lighter, and the stars faded as the sun prepared to make its entrance. The temperature would start climbing soon, and we needed to get moving.
Needed to find food.
And Zeus.
And survive another day.
I pulled out the lighter and checked to see whether it still had fluid. There was maybe enough for one more fire, if we were lucky. I cut out four more roots from the tree, shaving the ends of two for us to have now. The other two were for later.
I glanced over my shoulder at Charlie. Her hands were shaking as she tried to work the stiff socks over her heels. Every movement made her flinch, and she bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood.
I brought the roots back and handed her one. "Here. Suck."
She grinned, but the smile didn't reach her eyes this time.
We sat in silence, sucking on the roots. The bitter sap coated my tongue as I searched the landscape, trying to find something I recognized. But there was nothing.
When we finished, I tucked the remaining two roots into my pocket. Charlie reached for her boots, but when she tried to slide her foot in, she gasped and her face went bone white. She tried again, but the moment her heel touched the inside of the boot, she jerked her foot back out with a sharp cry.
"Stop. That's enough." I grabbed the boot off her and put it down.
She breathed hard, staring at the boots as if they'd betrayed her. Looking up at me, those golden eyes blazed with frustration. "I can't get them on."
"I know."
She stared at the boots for another moment, then shoved them away. "Fine. I'll walk in socks then." Her voice was tight but determined.
I let out a laugh. "Okay then. Let's roll." I helped her to her feet, and she swayed before finding her balance.
The kookaburra laughed again, and this time, another answered from across the ravine. Then a whole family of them welcomed the dawn with their insane chorus.
Charlie looked up at the tree, searching for the birds, and despite the pain she must be in, she smiled. "They're laughing at me. They think I'm crazy."
I chuckled. "The birds have a point. You are crazy."
She gasped and swatted my arm, but she was smiling. "Says the man who deliberately went into a flooded river."
"Yes, but only to save you," I admitted.
"I still can't believe you did that." Her features softened, and the gratitude in her eyes hit me harder than it should have.
"Maybe we're both crazy," I said, resisting the urge to pull her closer.
"Yep. I agree." She giggled, and the sweet melody stirred a warmth in my chest I didn't want to think about. I snatched her boots from the ground, tied the laces together, then slung them over my shoulder. "You ready?"
"Yep. Which way?"
I pointed north. We left the tree, but with every step, I felt her stiffen, and tiny gasps escaped her lips.
A lock of hair was stuck to her cheek, and it took everything I had not to reach over and brush it away.
What the hell's wrong with me?
"You okay?" I asked, then immediately wanted to kick myself. Of course, she wasn't okay. She was in agony.
She heaved a massive breath. "Yep. I'm fine." Clenching her jaw, she looked at me, and I was struck by how golden her irises were. I'd never seen eyes that color before, like liquid honey.
"What?" she said.
I snapped my gaze away. "Nothing."
Out of the corner of my eye, she nodded as if she’d expected that answer.
We walked in silence. The landscape was brutal in its emptiness, sunburned earth and the occasional cluster of spinifex grass. The sky was enormous out here, so blue it hurt to look up. This remote place was beautiful and deadly in equal measure.
"Hey, Mitch... tell me today is going to be a better day."
The question was impossible to answer, especially as we had no food or water.
So, I didn't.
"At least you're not lying to me," she said, sighing. "I had enough of that with Doug."
As the sun's early morning rays warmed the land, we walked parallel to the ravine. It wasn't long before Charlie's pace slowed to a shuffle. Her limp grew more pronounced with each step, and her face was twisted in pain.
Barely visible in the distance, I spotted another cluster of coolibah trees, but it was the tiny lumps that moved in the nearby scrub that captured my attention.
Thirty feet from the trees, Charlie grabbed my arm and pointed forward. "Look, rabbits." Her eyes lit up.
"Yep, and they taste delicious." I unslung the rifle from my shoulder.
Her smile vanished. "What are you doing?"
"Getting some lunch."
"What? No!" She stepped in front of me. "You can't shoot them."
"Charlie, we need to eat. And I've only got one bullet, so I need a clean shot."
"But, they're cute."
I lowered the rifle. "You do realize Koolaroo is a cattle ranch, right? We breed cattle to be eaten. Where exactly do you think your steak comes from?" I paused. "Unless you're one of those vegetarian types?"
Her mouth fell open. "No, I'm not a vegetarian. I just—"
"Just what? You're okay with eating meat as long as you don't know where it comes from?"
Her cheeks flushed. “Maybe."
I raised the rifle again. "Besides, rabbits are an invasive species. We're doing the land a favor."
"I know you're right." She grabbed my arm. "I do. It’s just..."
"Did you feel the same way about that big dinosaur eating Banjo?"
She slapped my arm. "Very funny." A grin swept across her face, and my chest tightened. Holy hell, she's gorgeous.
Her stomach grumbled so loud we both looked down.
"Want me to solve those hunger pains?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
She nodded slowly. "I just... I can't watch."
"Then don't. Turn around."
She hesitated, then turned her back to the rabbits, squeezed her eyes shut, and stuck her fingers in her ears.
I raised the rifle, took aim, and pulled the trigger. The shot cracked across the empty landscape, and all but one rabbit scattered.