Instability

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It takes at least three people to drag me away from Daniel, and just about everyone gets shoved or stepped on. That single, instinctual lunge was fueled by the ten percent of me that's still mad at Daniel. That part of me will always will be mad at him. Yet I don't even get a punch in before Daniel and I are on opposite sides of the helicopter cab.

I glare at Daniel and imagine hundreds of ways I could hurt him. I don't know what's wrong with me; I could have killed him. As a result, I threw away our friendship because of a snide remark and a knife.

Though I'm definitely mad at Daniel, I'm not mad enough to kill him. Hurt him, yeah, but my knife thought differently. Much differently. The cab fills with the beating of propellers, but the noise doesn't hide the heavy atmosphere. I wish I could unknot the intense awkwardness. It's too late to fix anything now.

It takes six or so hours to get to Fort Collins, but my eyes manage to glare at Daniel for about 15 minutes before I look out the window, gaining a slight headache from furrowing my brows for so long.

Smooth waters glide below us, shimmering and making waves. I would have enjoyed the view if I wasn't so angry. Somehow I managed to make the helicopter ride uncomfortable for all the passengers, but they don't know Daniel Fadhill like I do. That swipe of my knife was necessary.

The water eventually turns into fields, deserts, and forests before reaching Fort Collins. The pilot tells us it's our turn to leave, and I manage to not to step on any fingers or toes before swinging the doors open and leaping out the cab. I land hard on my feet and wait for Daniel to jump before slamming the doors closed. The sound of beating propellers slowly fades as the cab rises into the air, tousling my hair.

The Imperial part of me analyzes the surroundings quickly. We're in a grassy clearing with tall, numerous pines surrounding us. Jagged mountains line the horizon. The sun glows brightly. A sharp scent of pine needles fills our nostrils.

I bitterly try to let go of my mixed feelings for the sake of the mission and the downfall of the ISA. But I barely move them into the back of my mind.

"Ashley," Daniel starts, trying to get my attention.

"Just don't," I say to him, throwing my hands in the air. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I tried to knife you."

Daniel laughs dryly. There is no way that he is actually laughing right now. "Darling," he starts. "I was just joking."

"You weren't," I say, "But still."

"Ashley."

His soft tone of voice aggravates me for the first time in days. "Just stop. I'll forget the entire thing if you do, too."

I change the subject before he can say another word. "My knives for your arrows?"

"Deal," Daniel says after a moment, taking the hint to move on. He dumps his pack and sheath on the grass, and I bend down and grab all his arrows. Daniel stuffs the empty cloth sheath back into his backpack. I reach to hand him some knives, and he's careful not to touch my hand.

I slide the eight additional arrows into my sheath. I can't let my guilt get in the way, mostly because (a) Daniel ruins everything, regardless, (b) we are on a mission and can possibly be killed, and (c) he's the only one who knows his way through these woods.

I pull an arrow from my sheath and decide to test the bow out. I load my bow, set my feet perpendicular to a tree (with one foot slightly behind the other), and raise the bow in front of me. I pull the arrow back to the bottom of my chin, aim, and release. I imagine all of my emotions resting on this one arrow, and when it leaves the bow, so will my frustration. With a small pang of the string, the arrow shoots into the trunk of the tree I was aiming for.

As soon as I step out of the way, Daniel aggressively pelts the tree with knives, his blades forming a circle around my arrow. With a roll of my eyes, I walk over to the tree and yank the knives out one by one. I unwedge the single arrow and slide it back in my sheath, slinging my bow across my torso.

I hand the bundle of knives back to Daniel with an outstretched arm. He grabs my wrist with his left hand and turns my forearm so my palm is in the air. With his free hand, he unclamps my fingers from the blade handles and takes his knives. Our eyes don't leave each other's.

"Nice aim," I say, breaking the forest's silence.

"Thank you," Daniel replies, slinging on his pack, and he leads the way across the clearing.

The sun covers the land for miles around, sending shadows underneath the surrounding pines and bushes. Heading into the forest, I walk a yard or so behind Daniel, not saying a word. I let the awkwardness fill up the space between us. At least the air is the perfect temperature here: not too humid, not too cool.

As we trudge through the pines, the land ascends. I start to fall behind Daniel because of all the weight in my backpack. I never thought that paper flyers could be so heavy. Once we reach the top of the incline, we stop for a moment to look across the land. It's a breathtaking view with jagged mountains, forests, fields, and a lake in the distance.

"We're going to head about eight miles east of here, and then wait for nightfall," Daniel states, shielding his eyes from the sun. I stare across the land, partly admiring all the peace and beauty. I've never seen anything like it before, and it's just plain amazing.

Daniel checks his compass and leads down the way down the hill to the lake. We fill our water bottles with water, treat them with iodine, and take a refreshing sip. Loading the bottles into our bags, we head into the forest again. We hike non-stop for two hours.

By the time Daniel lets us rest, I'm dead and dulled by exhaustion. As soon as he gives the okay, I plop onto the grass, not bothering to take off my backpack and bow. I push the loose hair out of my face and redo my ponytail. I lean back on my pack and look up at the pure blue sky, panting a bit. Just as I begin to relax, I hear the crackling footsteps in the woods.

Oh, no.

Daniel's eyes bolt to meet mine. We stare at each other for a millisecond before scrambling noisily from the ground and diving into the coverage of nearby bushes. I barely make it behind the thicket before a bear enter the clearing. My heart thumps loudly.

"Danny," I whisper as quietly as I can. "What should we do?"

His eyes don't leave the animal. "Just stay quiet, it might pass by."

Sure enough, the bear doesn't attack us at all; it just ambles across the small clearing, passing as if we weren't even watching him. Once the bear is out of sight, I let out a relieved sigh.

"Oh, my gosh," I exhale, taking a deep breath. I settle my weight from my knees onto my butt, still ready to run if the bear comes back.

"Wait," Daniel says quickly.

"What?" I say, looking around for the bear. That thing is downright terrifying.

"Did you just call me Danny?"

I groan, turning towards Daniel. "Really? You scared me." I say, rolling my eyes. I hate it when people freak me out for no reason.

"Yeah, but you've never called me that before."

Familiar sarcasm returns to my voice. "Well, there's a first time for everything, Daniel, just like being scared to death by a fricking bear."

"No, really," Daniel deadpans with a small snort, "but you've finally lost your Imperial States way of talking."

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this chapter is one of my favs! vote if you think the bear was a totally unnecessary addition to the plot lol.

Question: why do you think it took ashley this long to finally call daniel "danny"?

hint: i had to throw some symbolism in there or else i would have failed the literature gods.