Chapter 34
MOLLY
Terror and anxiety flash behind my eyelids in whites and greys.
I’ve been here so many times, this little cove in the ground.
I’m bundled up and cozy, and yet I shiver uncontrollably, which makes it terrifying and the last place I want to be.
I squirm, but when the harsh and ominous light flickers over me again, my body freezes.
It’s a rinse and repeat cycle: I’m constantly terrified but make small and feeble attempts to take control in weirdly timed-out measures.
Something’s different this time though. Instead of dryness, cold water drips all over me like some kind of ancient form of torture.
There’s a soft but persistent nudging at the side of my head, opposite the side that’s throbbing with pain. It’s cold and wet as it pushes at me to open my eyes. When I do, I can’t see anything at first, but the cold dampness of the air tells me I’m outside.
I blink more, hoping that with each movement, I’ll see something other than black, but the best I can get is dark blue.
The cold water keeps dripping on my face, wetting my lashes and making me blink harder.
It seems to drip faster, hardly giving me a chance to look for anything more and finally forcing me to test my ability to move.
As I lift my arm, the nudging at my head disappears, and I wipe water from my eyes just as a man’s voice echoes. A low growl follows, and I freeze.
Just be quiet.
“No!” I shriek, and my body shoots up without permission from my brain, making the throbbing in my head enhance exponentially. I understand that the dripping is rain, drizzling down steadily, soaking my clothes and plastering my hair to the side of my face.
The bright white light flashes again, making a sharp gasp tear its way up my throat. My heart freezes, refusing to beat as I see a dirt wall in front of me, adorned with sporadic rocks and gnarled, dead tree branches.
Not a cozy cove. The ravine.
My heartbeat pounds in my ears, echoing like a war drum in symphony with my gasping breaths.
I don’t try to look around me—the reality might overwhelm me.
I focus on one small broken stick in front of me as my arms find their way around my body, trying to hold it in one piece, and gently rock like a child. Then another bout of thunder crashes.
Just stay still.
I whimper and flinch, this time daring to look around, frightening surroundings be damned.
It can’t be worse than that place in my mind—the place every thunderstorm insists on taking me.
And it’s trying to take me there now as I sit here like a fish in a barrel, helpless at the bottom of a ravine.
No comfort of home. No protective husband’s arms around me…
“I’m bigger than the storm,” I say out loud, beckoning myself to hear my own words. “I’m bigger than the storm,” I repeat again as the bright lightning flashes against my surroundings.
With every moment that passes, every crash of thunder gets closer, increasing the likelihood I’ll surrender to my mind. The worse it gets, the more I have to fight. I don’t even give movement a thought, shifting to my knees. I crawl, looking for something I can grab onto that could ground me.
The rain goes quickly from scant drops to full-on shower, and I continue scrambling, looking for something to grab, something to focus on that will keep me in the moment.
My fingers sweep through the dirt that is quickly becoming mud, occasionally catching a flimsy leaf or twig until my right hand pans over something hard and smooth.
I grapple in the darkness, trying to find it again, and pick up a rock, roughly the size of a small peach. It’s imperfectly round, but its edges are smooth, and I hold onto it tightly as my body goes back to rocking.
I’m in the woods…in the ravine… I was chased here… The culvert was blocked up… There’s a thunderstorm, but I’m not back in that place… This rock wasn’t there with me so I can’t be… I’m bigger than the storm.
I repeat these mantras, clinging to each one like they’re lifeboats. Nothing is going to get me through this storm but me.
The thunder booms again, making me jump. I can’t help the startled scream that comes out, along with a few tears.
Be quiet!
Don’t scream. Don’t say a fucking word.
Stay still…
“No…” I moan, trying to fight the despair that’s clawing to get in and overtake me. “I’m bigger than the storm…” As if to defy the voice, I start moving around. Trying to accomplish what, I don’t know.
Gripping the small rock in my hand, I maneuver around on my hands and knees, hoping to see something. But it’s too dark, and the rain blurs my vision. The mud beneath me is turning soupy with the downfall of rain, and the lightning illuminates a stream of it running down the incline.
Shit.
I know flash floods are a thing, but I’ve never witnessed one and only know they can happen incredibly fast. But I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
The enormous amount of water. The rising depths.
I don’t know exactly how to get out of this— I just know the mud is thick, and if there’s ever a time to beat this fear it’s now.
I can’t let it take me. I can’t let it take Clover Hill.
Don’t let me take you, Wolf’s voice says in my mind.
A splitting growl sounds, and my body constricts and my mind goes into overdrive, but it wasn’t the next round of thunder.
Before I can sort through my mind, the sound comes again, a low growl that turns into a kind of whine, as if its owner is battling its own despair with frustration. An animal. Fuck, it’s an animal.
The terrifying prospect of being attacked like a sitting duck at the bottom of a ravine is almost enough for me to give up, to retreat back inside my own mind and zone out until this over.
The fear at this point is so overwhelming, coursing through me and taking over every cell of my body, making my limbs shake and my teeth chatter.
Zoning out and taking what comes would be so much easier, especially as the next crash of thunder booms right overhead, echoing around the ravine.
It’s the sound of my nightmares, and I stifle an anguished shriek until the booming rumble is broken again by the unmistakable howl of the animal.
Velvet? I wonder as my heart beats erratically at the base of my throat. The next lightning flash reveals my wolf, as if mother nature is confirming my thoughts. She’s here. Velvet stands at the edge of the ravine, her snout panning back and forth as if searching for something.
Stay with me, I inwardly plea. The thought is selfish and even feels a little childish, but I’m looking for anything to get me through this.
Despite being hardly able to see anything and still clinging to the rock, I crawl a couple feet in the direction I saw her before attempting to stand.
But when I try to bear weight on my right foot, an acute ache shoots through my ankle, leaving an echoing throb behind.
“Shit,” I mutter out loud to myself and try to proceed, being careful on the tender ankle as I go.
My goal is to get closer to Velvet so maybe we can draw comfort from each other.
“I’m here girl,” I call out to her before another bang of thunder crashes over us, making me shriek and stumble to my knees.
Goddammit, when I’m over this bullshit, I’ve got to learn to count between thunder cracks. But I know another flash of lightning’s on its way, and I prepare myself to focus on my wolf so I can hopefully move closer to her.
There’s no room in my consciousness to be terrified with the next flicker of light. Because right below the edge of the ravine where Velvet stands is my possible way out. An exposed hemlock root stands out bright white against the dirt.
Barely able to see a foot in front of me, I frantically look around in the dark for a way to get to it. It’s high up—a good sixteen feet to reach the tail end of it—but if I can do it I’d only be two or three feet from pulling myself up on the edge.
The dirt is quickly turning to mud, though, and I don’t have much time.
I try my weight on my ankle again, and pain screams up my leg, but it’s not broken.
It’s likely just an ugly sprain I’ll have to endure.
Jumping to reach that root will require running at least a short distance to gain momentum, risking tripping on sticks, rocks, or other debris, but there’s no other option.
Doing my best to kick any loose debris out of my way, I back up, limping slightly until I’m an estimated five or six long strides away.
And then I wait, determined to steady my breathing, for the next lightning flash to show me the root again.
When it finally flickers, my gaze grabs onto the hanging root and stays trained on it as I push through the pain, sprinting the few yards before leaping, raising my good foot as I high as I can and launching myself up the muddy wall.
Barreling and clawing through the pebbly dirt, my feet scramble for purchase but barely get any tread.
When I reach the peak of my inertia, my fingertips are still a good foot below the root as I fall back, sliding against mud before my weight pulls me off the wall and drops me hard on the ground.
The roughly eight-foot fall threatens to knock the wind out of me.
I force my eyes to stay open while the hollow pain in my chest almost suffocates me.
I lie on my back, waiting for my lungs to allow air back in while trying not to cry at the pain.
I can barely see the top of the ravine, but I know Velvet is still with me by the forlorn howl she lets out.
It carries and hangs in the air for several seconds before she starts into another one.
The tone holds a cross between despair and insistence, and in a bizarre twist, it makes me chuckle.
“All right, you adorable pain in the ass,” I wheeze out, knowing damn well she can’t hear me.
This is some newfound, outlandish way for me to carry myself through this.
“I know your little pansy ass can’t survive without me cutting up your food and feeding you.
I’m coming.” I’m basically talking to myself, but it’s helping as I roll to my stomach and push myself up on my hands.
Velvet continues to howl, and the way she’s going on I don’t need to see her to know she’s got her snout tilted fully to the sky.
“Drama queen,” I mutter and look around for something I missed that I could use for leverage.
The few fallen branches are flimsy and no bigger around than a baseball bat, But when I make a full circle, I notice a small stump of a log.
Placing it on its side would give me maybe another six inches.
Standing upright maybe ten to twelve, but it won’t be sturdy in the least. Again, the lack of options has me trying the unthinkable, and I grab it, moving it to below the root.
This time, I don’t even wait for the lightning and push off into a run, using the wobbly stump as the world’s smallest launch pad and jumping as high as I can, grappling and kicking once again. This time, my fingers brush over the root before instinctively wrapping around it in a snap-quick reflex.
“Fuck,” I blow out as I dangle, barely gripping the root, and I carefully heave my weight upward to take hold of it with my other hand.
Hanging on now with both hands, I take a couple seconds to catch my breath and hope to find a way to swing myself up onto the edge.
Velvet lets out one more howl that fades out, but not entirely.
I still hear it, but it’s much lower than usual.
When the lightning flashes, I tilt my face up to the rain and just barely catch a glimpse of her turning, her tail slicing through the air as she disappears.
But several beats later, I still hear the low howl.
My forehead scrunches in confusion as I try to make sense of it. The howl sounds again, and I concentrate hard.
It’s not Velvet.
“Molly!”
The voice calling my name is so distant, I half wonder if I’m imagining it. The call lingers, echoing off the trees and the walls of the ravine.
“Help!” I scream with as much air as I can muster while trying to hold up my own weight with only my hands. I tilt my head, listening hard for the voice I thought I heard, hoping I’m not crazy.
“Molly!” This time the voice is sharper, with more weight behind it, and not only do I know it’s real—it belongs to Wolf.
“Wolf?” I call out as loud as I can with notes of desperation lacing my voice.
“Molly!” The frantic tone of his voice mixed with the scrambling of heavy footsteps tell me he’s closer and more determined.
I hang on to the sound of each footfall, my heart swelling as each one gets closer.
“Molly, baby!” Wolf is only feet away now, and I feebly call his name out before finally, his upper body appears over the edge of the ravine. “Baby!” He drops to a crouch, his eyes desperate with worry.
I let out a breath I’ve been holding in for God knows how long. “Wolf.” I say, the sting of my eyes threatening tears of relief.
“Molly, oh my god.” He rapidly assesses the situation as he crawls down on this stomach. “Jesus Christ, look at you,” he mutters as he positions himself and takes hold of a tree root close to him.
“Excuse me? What the fuck?” My brow knits as I try to blink up at him.
“We’re in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm, and you’re not freaking out,” he tries to explain. “You’re pulling yourself up out of the crater instead!” he shouts over the rain as he reaches down, a huge smile on his face.
Oh.
I take a breath and focus as I concentrate my strength to my left hand so I can reach for him with my right.
We lock palms, and though both our hands are wet, the grip of Wolf’s hand is too strong to allow for any slippage.
Using the strength of that one bicep, he pulls, and I rise a few inches, enough so he has to shift his body back to give us more leverage.
He repeats, pulling with his arm and shifting his body back until I can let go of the root.
After another pull, my chest is level with the edge.
Wolf clambers up onto his knees, pulling me over the lip of the ravine and onto the stable ground with him.
Using his inertia, he falls back onto the muddy ground pulling me on top of him.
“Baby, oh my god baby…” He’s reaching for my face with both hands, trying to push the wet strands of hair out of my eyes.
“I love you…I love you so much,” he professes, leaning his head up to smash his lips against mine.