Safe and Sound

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. They screamed back and forth across the night sky like a puce rainbow from hell as she teetered under the weight of the branch in her hands. I didn’t hesitate. Sprinting down the path, I hopped right over the splintering wooden gate and tackled her hysterical form to the ground. She just lay there choking on sobs as I leapt up and began furiously stomping on the flaming makeshift flare. The damp breath of autumn coating every inch of the dense forest thankfully stopped the whole area from instant ignition and certain fiery death for the both of us.

She’s desperate. I get it. It’s been 9 weeks. 

“Darling?” I crouched beside her now foetal form, softly brushing her damp cheeks and tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind one ear. 

The last of the flickering embers danced in her huge, glassy eyes as she stared over at the cabin. For a brief moment, she reminded me of the doe I shot for our supper last week.  

“We’re going to go back inside. I’ll make us some hot ginger tea.” I scooped her petite frame into my arms and lowered my face to hers. 

“I love you. Let me take care of you.”

***

Life moves very fast. People change, feelings waver, situations escalate. But every so often, we find ourselves in a beautiful, perfect moment. And then it’s gone, before we have a second to appreciate it. Right now, I’m in one of those moments - and I’m lucky enough to know it. A delicate snapshot in time, a brief instance of sweet bliss. She’s curled up in the armchair opposite me, her eyelids flitting across the pages of the hardback novel in her lap. Logs crackle in the ingle, the scent of woodsmoke mingling with ginger and spices. One of my all-time favourite songs hums through the gramophone perched on the bookshelf. Thick woollen curtains (handmade by my Grandmother in the 1960’s) hang heavily over each window, sealing in the warmth and amber glow of our haven. I glance at the four deadbolts positioned as they should be across the door. We are safe, warm, and happy. Can anyone really ask for anything more than that? 

I unfold a fur blanket next to me and move to swaddle her bare legs as another gust of wind rattles around our tiny home, and she flinches slightly. 

“It sounds a lot worse than it is, darling. We’re perfectly safe in here.” I plant a gentle kiss on the top of her head. 

“I’m afraid” she whispers, looking up at me through dark lashes. 

I smile, but something deep within me warns that my patience is wearing thin. “We won’t be here forever.”

***

I’m suddenly awake, my eyes focusing on the other side of the room. My body knows it’s morning, despite the curtains smothering any wisp of sunlight. She’s dressed in her coat and boots, wearing a look on her face that’s half fright, half rage. Her right hand is on deadbolt number three. 

“I need fresh air.”

I spring from the sofabed and plant my palm on the door. 

“You’re feisty, and it’s one of the things I love most about you. But you’re not thinking clearly. We’re in the most northern sector of an absolutely gigantic forest. The nearest road is five miles south and the only thing up ahead is the Voke Mountain. It may not be winter yet, but you’re going to struggle up there in that outfit.”

I feel smug. I’m an expert at managing these little mood swings at this point. No need to panic.

Then she screamed. 

I clamped a hand over her mouth. 

“Darling! Please.” I tried to control the volume of my voice and focussed on working through the motions of our daily charade. 

Then she did something unexpected. 

She jerked her head backwards, slamming it into the door where my left hand still rested. I yelped in pain, automatically reaching to cradle it. In a split second, she yanked the deadbolt still in her grip and darted out the open door. My mouth falls open in horror as I realise deadbolts one, two and four had already been unlocked before I woke up. 

I grab my hunting rifle. 

“The bears!” I cry out to her, but she’s already weaving through the trees up ahead. 

Fear surges through my body, clawing at my rib cage. 

I can’t lose her.

The forest is a haze of ruby and gold as my vision blurs and nausea swells in deep, rolling waves through my gut. 

Not after everything I’ve been through to get to this point.

I take a gulp of morning air and my limbs jerk into action. Bolting across the damp tapestry of leaves, I hone in on her red coat. I’m catching up to her when my foot catches a branch and I’m flung to the ground. A sickening bang ringing in my ears as my face smacks into the undergrowth tells me I dropped the gun. I twist my neck in pain to look at the rifle laying two foot in front of me. Raising my head further, I see a crumpled heap of red. 

NO.

A guttural moan crawls from my throat. I use a tree to pull myself up, and lunge to grab the gun. 

“Drop it.” 

I glance up and see a ranger pointing a gun at my head. 

Christ.

Suddenly she props herself up, whimpering a little. Her calf is stained with crimson. 

“Oh my g…“ my stomach plummets to my shoes and I start to reach toward her. 

“Don’t move!” he screams. “Stay away from the girl or I will be required to stop you.” 

I try to swallow, but my spittle has turned to ash in my mouth. 

“You don’t understand. It was an accident. I’m trying to protect her!” I croak.

She turns to face me, her tear-stained face etched in horror as she scrambles backward on the ground toward the ranger. 

His eyes grew darker than onyx and his lip curled as he spoke. 

“I know exactly who you are. The whole country knows who you are and what you’ve done.”

I lunged for the rifle and turned it towards my own chest, looking directly at her perfect, perfect face.

“I only wanted to love you, darling.” 

Then I close my eyes.