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Chapter nineteen
Silas
Istartledawake,my heart racing and my body drenched in sweat. I could almost taste the desert sand, the memory having seemed so real. So visceral.
I hated that dream, and even though it had been a while since I’d had it, the queasy feeling in my stomach was the same. I could still hear the screams, the sound of the helicopter coming ever closer, feeling like I was never going to be able to escape that horrific moment.
Reliving the worst day of my life had been a common occurrence after I had left the service, but after a while—after meeting Daphne—it had seemed like that particular nightmare had moved to the background.
Considering where I was and what was happening, I shouldn’t have been surprised to have that dream come back in full force.
Didn’t mean I wasn’t pissed as fuck about it, though.
Sitting up, I dragged a hand down my face, the sweat already cooling to an icy sheen in the early morning chill. I could see Hawthorn beside me, his prone form just visible in the early dawn light. Draping my arms over my knees, I exhaled a heavy breath and hung my head.
I was so fuckin’ tired.
“Nightmare chasin’ you?” came the gruff voice of Hawthorn from where he lay on his bedroll.
My first reaction was to tell him to mind his own fuckin’ business; I didn’t need anyone poking around in my head, trying to tell me what needed fixin’.
But I took a breath, thinking better of it. Hawthorn had been nothing but helpful in the handful of hours I’d known him, and as a fellow soldier, he’d probably understand better than anyone else in my life what it was like, being back stateside and dealing with the fallout of the things that happened over there.
So, collecting my balls and swallowing my pride, I simply said, “Yeah.”
Stretching his arms above his head, Hawthorn yawned. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Not particularly,” I responded, and Hawthorn simply nodded.
“I’m gonna take a leak,” he grumbled, rising to his feet and ambling out of our shelter and into the dark. The rain seemed to have quit recently, but I could still smell the ozone in the air, hinting at more storms to come.
Taking a swig from my canteen, I washed the taste of fear out of my mouth, swallowing hard. My water was starting to run low; I would have to check those trail maps and see if there were any spots to fill up nearby.
Standing with a groan, I reached into my pocket and retrieved the map Hawthorn had grabbed yesterday. As I pulled it free, my phone tumbled out, landing face down on my thin bedroll. I hadn’t even looked at it since we had parked the Jeep yesterday, having been so focused on simply moving forward. Looking at the screen now, the light shockingly bright in the comfortable gloom of the lean-to, I could see that there were six missed calls and a dozen texts from Stone. Flipping through them quickly, I was relieved to see that he had reached Penelope, and that she was fine, but he was looking for an update on his sister, and I didn’t have shit all to tell him.
Not that it would have mattered anyway, because at the moment, I had no bars, so I couldn’t reach him anyway. Feeling dejected, I powered down my phone and slid it away again.
As far as I knew, Daphne could be on the other side of the state by now. Just because this was the last area her phone had been tracked in didn’t mean it was the area they had stayed in.
But, it also didn’t mean that she wasn’t still here, so until I had evidence to the contrary, this was the plan I was gonna stick with.
There was no way I could stop looking; my tattered soul wouldn’t let me.
Hawthorn ambled back around the corner, a bucket in his hand, and gave me a chin lift.
“There’s a spigot ‘round that way, if you need washin’,” he said, pouring the bucket over the remains of your meager fire. The coals gave off a quiet hiss, the thin line of smoke and puffs of ash floating upward, getting lost against the slowly lightening sky.
Lifting my arms, I stretched first to one side, then the other before walking the way he had indicated. Right behind the building was a stand of trees, so I stepped up and relieved myself, before turning back to the lean-to. I saw the spigot exactly where he said it was, and turned it on, first washing my hands, then my face, in the shockingly cold water. Before I was done, Hawthorn was beside me, both our canteens and camelbacks in hand, and we filled them in silence, comfortable and companionable.
Returning to the front of the lean-to, we both started to pack our bags, the soft gray light of dawn creeping up over the trees around us. Hefting my pack, I turned, stopping for a moment to stare out at the flat marshland that sat across from where Hawthorn and I had spent the night. The dark and the rain of last night had hidden the view from us when we had arrived, and now, as the sun rose, the marsh was blanketed in a wispy fog, looking both creepy and beautiful at the same time.
Gazing at it, watching as the gentle summer wind caused the mist to dance across the ground, I couldn’t help but feel that the whole scene wasn’t truly real. The sun began peeking through the trees, turning the foggy marsh into a sparkling landscape that looked like it was painted with gold and diamonds, and I felt a tightening in my gut that made me have to turn away.
It was simply too beautiful, and therefore, I felt like I didn’t deserve to even look at it.
It reminded me too much of the last time I had gazed on something perfect and beautiful, something that I knew was too good for me, and as such, I shouldn’t have even thought I was even allowed to touch it.
Daphne.
The way she had looked that night, her hair splayed out on my pillow, feeling her body against mine for the first—and only—time, had stirred something deep in my soul. How many nights had I laid awake since then, remembering her that way and wondering if that moment had even been real.
Sometimes, it felt like it had all been a dream.
Daphne was every light and beautiful thing that had ever existed in my life. Her smile, her laugh. The way she would look at me, those big green eyes so wide and hopeful, her face open and genuine. The way her eyes danced with mischief when she knew she was doing something that her family and her society friends would disapprove, but she did it anyway.
She simply didn’t care about anyone’s opinion, only wanting to live her life and be happy doing the things she loved.
I just couldn’t see how she could ever be happy with me.
“You ready?”
Hawthorn’s voice cut into my thoughts, snapping me out of the memories I cherished deep in my heart, and reminding me that time may be running out for the girl who meant the world to me.
Adjusting my pack, I followed him, the narrow path we had taken to the lean-to last night now much easier to navigate in the light of day. When we reached the junction with the main trail, Hawthorn stopped, taking out the map and holding it up.
“We basically stay right here for another few miles, then we have to choose: north or south.”
Grunting my acknowledgment, I turned and started walking, my pace quick and my mind in the past. After a few minutes, Hawthorne handed me a pack of jerky, reminding me that I had to stay fueled and hydrated.
I had just finished gnawing on the last piece when the quiet of the morning was shattered by a sound I had hoped to never hear again.
“Holy fuck,” Hawthorn said, his eyes wide as we both froze on the path. “Was that a gunshot?”
“It sure as fuck was.”
I was running before I even thought about my next move. There was no planning, no stopping to strategize, just a burning need to get to her.
To protect her.
To hold her.
And once I did, I wasn’t sure how I was ever gonna let her go again.
“Hedge!”
I ignored him, my legs pumping hard as the trail climbed, the elevation increasing quicker in this section than in the previous miles we had walked.
“Hedge, man. Wait!”
