Chapter 25
Charlie
The silence after Mitch left was killing me. When I worked on a dinosaur dig, I embraced silence, loved it even. But this was different. And wrong. Just hot wind dragging across the scrub and that damn crow laughing somewhere in the distance.
I really was in the middle of nowhere. But thank God for the shade of the coolibah tree. I pulled my knees to my chest and locked my eyes on the horizon where Mitch had disappeared. Scanning. Searching. Willing him to materialize out of the heat shimmer like some kind of magician.
Nothing but red dirt and tufts of dry grass stretched endlessly in every direction. Even the rabbits had vanished.
I'd never felt so alone. Fear inched up my spine, cold tendrils wrapping around each vertebra.
The sun was still high, brutal and damn unforgiving. Two hours, he'd said. Maybe three. I tried to count the minutes, but they were illusive as the dancing heat shimmer in the distance. How long had it been? Thirty minutes? An hour?
My lips were cracked and dry. But as I sucked on one of the tree roots, I could still feel Mitch’s mouth on mine. His kiss had been so desperate and raw. Like he'd felt the same fear now gripping me.
I will come back for you.
I believed him. Had to believe him.
Because if I didn't, I'd fall apart completely.
Every sound made my head snap up. A lizard skittering across rocks. The rustle of leaves. That damn crow's claws, scratching bark as it jumped between branches above me. Each time, my heart leaped, and I’d search the horizon. Each time, there was nothing. Just the Outback playing tricks.
I forced myself to eat a little more rabbit meat. Small bites. Protein. Strength. Survival. But Mitch needed it, too, and I was determined to save some for when he returned. He'd sacrificed his food, his shirt, and his lighter for me.
I will come back for you.
I repeated his words over and over.
It helped. He'd said it with absolute conviction. He would come back for me. I knew it.
But how long would I need to hang on?
As I sucked on the root, the fog that had gripped me since regaining consciousness lifted slightly. My hands stopped shaking. My breathing evened out.
I adjusted my position and clenched my jaw before slowly peeling off my socks. A gasp tore from my lips as the fabric pulled away from raw flesh. It bloody hurt. Some blisters were still weeping, but at least the bleeding had stopped.
Small victories.
Maybe I'd be able to walk by the time Mitch returned.
I looked toward the horizon again.
Nothing.
I stood, draped my socks over the dead branch he'd left me, and started gathering twigs, dried grass, and anything that would burn.
My gaze kept drifting to the horizon, and as I gathered twigs for the fire, the sun crept across the sky with agonizing slowness.
I tracked its damn arc as though my life depended on it.
Because it did.
I measured the time by the growing shadows and shifting sunlight, and the knot of dread tightened in my chest.
With nothing else to do, I sat with my back against the tree trunk and waited.
And waited.
He should be back by now, shouldn't he?
How long had it been?
Two hours. Three?
The sky began to change. Oranges bled into purples. Blue leached away, becoming darker and more ominous. Beautiful and terrible all at once.
The sun was setting.
And a different kind of cold crept into my bones, one that had nothing to do with temperature. What if Mitch didn't find Zeus? What if he got lost? What if he passed out from dehydration like I had, while I sat here under this tree doing nothing?
Oh, God. What if he doesn't come back at all?
I shook the thought away and stood, focusing on the fire. My hands trembled as I arranged smaller sticks around the large branch he'd left me, piling dried grass and twigs beside it.
I tugged his lighter from my shorts pocket and flicked it once. Twice. The flame caught on the third try, and I touched it to the dried grass. The fire took hold immediately, crackling to life.
As I pulled the rest of my foraged twigs and leaves closer, the last gasp of sunlight vanished.
Darkness swallowed everything beyond the small circle of firelight. The temperature plummeted so fast it stole my breath. One moment I was sweating, the next shivering.
I huddled closer to the tree, knees to chin, making myself small. Mitch's shirt hung loose on my frame, and I wrapped it tighter around my shoulders. The fabric retained his scent. Sweat and smoke and an earthiness that made my chest ache.
His kiss flooded my mind. The way his hands had tangled in my hair. The desperation in how he'd held me. The way his embrace had felt like goodbye.
My teeth chattered, and I fed another stick to the fire while sparks spiraled into the black sky. The flames pushed back the darkness a fraction. But beyond that, I couldn’t see a damn thing. Just an impenetrable wall of night.
Where is he?
Oh, God. Without his lighter, he couldn't start a fire. He was out there in the pitch black.
Guilt crawled up my throat. Mitch was out there alone because of me. Because I'd gotten heat stroke. Because of my blisters. Because I was weak, slow, and a liability.
What if that kiss was the last time I ever—
No. Stop it.
Mitch was SAS-trained. He knew survival. He knew the bush.
He'd promised he'd come back.
I sat in the dark, his shirt wrapped around me, wishing his arms were instead. I missed him. Not just for the warmth. I missed him. I cared about him. When had that happened? He fascinated me in a way that made no sense for two people who barely knew each other.
The fire crackled as I fed it another stick.
A noise rumbled through the darkness.
I froze. What was that? The wind? Was my imagination playing tricks?
“Mitch! Is that you?”
It came again, low and guttural and unmistakably feral.
Growling.
Every muscle in my body locked, and my breath caught in my throat. The fire that had felt so comforting seconds ago suddenly seemed pathetic, a pinprick of light swallowed by an ocean of black.
I strained to see past the flames, but there was nothing except darkness pressing in from all sides. The growling continued, circling somewhere just beyond the firelight.
A pair of red eyes emerged from the black.
My stomach dropped. “Shit!” A dingo.
"Get away!" I grabbed a burning stick from the fire and thrust it out in front of me.
The pair of red eyes became four. Then six. Then ten.
Oh, God, there was a whole pack of them.
"Get lost! Go!" I waved the flaming stick, and my hands trembled so badly the flames danced wildly in the air.
The wild dogs moved in the shadows, barely visible, circling beyond the fire, at my sides, behind me. Shit! Maybe they smell the blood on the other side of the tree where Mitch had gutted the rabbit.
The growls deepened, and the snarls grew vicious. A sharp yelp cut through the night, one must have snapped at another.
What do I do? Yell? Stay still? I couldn't run, not with my shredded heels, and not weak and dehydrated and barely able to stand. Plus, Mitch had told me to stay here, or he'd never find me.
I had to stay and fight.
I scanned the darkness, pulse hammering in my ears as I tried to track their movements. But the dingoes were just shadows within shadows. I heard them, though. Eerie howls, low snarls, and soft footsteps circling closer.
One emerged from the darkness. A beast straight out of a nightmare. Its eyes reflected the firelight in twin points of yellow-green, and its lips were pulled back, baring sharp, stained teeth.
"Get back!" My voice came out high and shaky.
The scrawny bastard didn't retreat. It just watched me, waiting. Calculating.
Another appeared to my left. Then a third to my right.
Shit. I’m surrounded.
"Stay back!" I waved the flaming stick in a wide arc, creating a barrier of fire between us.
They backed up slightly, but not nearly enough.
More eyes appeared in the darkness. Four. Five. Six pairs gleaming in the firelight. They kept coming, emerging from the shadows like ghosts. Seven. Eight. Ten. Twenty pairs of eyes, all fixed on me, circling, snarling, and drooling.
"Shit! Get back!" I lunged forward with the flaming stick.
But there were too many of them.
The largest one in the pack stepped forward, testing me.
I swung the torch at the alpha. "Get away!"
He dodged back, but not far enough.
They weren't leaving, and they weren't afraid of me.
Behind me, the main fire was dying. I needed more wood on those flames right now, but I couldn't turn my back on these bastards. Not for a second.
The alpha's muzzle was dark with blood, and as he licked his chops, I saw bits of fur stuck to his teeth. He must have dug up the rabbit carcass, and now he wanted more.
The rabbit meat! I still had some down my shirt. Maybe that's what they smelled. Maybe if I gave it to them, they'd leave me alone.
I pulled out the wrapped bundle with my free hand and hurled it at the alpha. "Here! Take it and piss off!"
He snapped it up in one motion, barely chewed, and swallowed, then kept staring at me.
They wanted more.
They want me.
The alpha took another step forward, and the others followed, tightening the circle. I couldn't back up anymore without stepping into the fire. Shit. What do I do?
The tree! I needed to put the solid trunk at my back so they couldn't surround me.
The torch in my hand flickered, the flames dying lower and weaker.
“No. No. No.”
The dingoes crept closer, their gazes never leaving me. Patient. Hungry. Unafraid.
I glanced at the fire for another weapon, but there was nothing. Just that massive branch, which was too big to lift.
The alpha's lips curled in a snarl, revealing every yellowed tooth.
I swept the flames in a wide arc, driving back two scrawny females as I spun around and inched backwards. My back hit the solid tree trunk, and I pressed against it, feeling the rough bark dig into my shoulders.
Safe. At least from behind.
My torch flickered and weakened.
“Oh God!” I’m running out of time.
The pack closed in another step.
I raised my dying torch with shaking hands.
“Mitch! Help!”
Where the hell are you?