At First Sight

Chapter Eight

It was only then that he let out a breath without its purpose being to save her. “Copeland.”

She sobbed.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re okay.”

The thunder shook the sky again and the lightning came almost instantaneously.

“Can you stand?”

She shook her head. “No,” she said weakly. “I did something to my leg.”

Drew stuck one arm beneath her legs at the back of her knees and the other behind her shoulders to hoist her up. He didn’t have a clue where they were. The ground beneath his feet was filled with rocks, jagged and sharp, not the softness of the sand near his own campsite. The water had been moving so fast, he wouldn’t be surprised if it carried them a mile, maybe more away from his campsite.

“We have to get out of here,” he said, unsure if he was speaking to her or giving himself a pep-talk.

In the moonlight, he could see cliffs. Cliffs meant there was most likely a cave nearby that could keep the sheltered from the storm. He moved as far and as fast as he could, locating an opening in the face of the rocks. He slipped through the opening, Copeland cradled in his arms. As soon as it felt like there was room to move, he knelt on the ground, setting her down as gently as he could.

He rooted around in his pocket, thankful that even in the adrenaline fuelled moment, chasing after her, he'd thought to put his shorts on. When he was camping, he always tried to have an emergency stash in his pockets that included a few protein bars and a lighter in a ziploc bag. An old trick he’d read about long ago for situations pretty much exactly like this one. It was the first, and hopefully the last time he’d ever need to utilize the books advice.

It was still there, even though the bag was soaked. Drew opened the baggie and removed the lighter, running his finger along the wheel to spark it.

As soon as the light from the fire illuminated the cave, he felt better. It was spacious.

“Can you slide further inside?”

She didn’t respond but did manage to slide her body several yards from the entrance.

He could hear her teeth knocking together over the havoc nature was wreaking outside. He fired up the lighter again, wrapping Copeland’s fingers around it and pressing her thumb on the fuel release.

“Can you hold this for me?”

She nodded.

Drew wasn’t even touching her and he could feel her vibrating, her body shaking uncontrollably. The light she held in her hand flickered and shook almost as ferociously as she did.

He framed her face in his hands moving strands of wet, icy cold hair to inspect her head and her neck.

Her face was filthy, stained with dirt from the rocks, streaks from her tears running through the muck. He checked her arms and her belly before he got to her leg. The skin was bloodied and her leg, the same one he’d first bandaged up the day he met her, was twisted in a grotesque angle.

He hardly touched it and she yelled out in pain, dropping the lighter and erasing his view. He felt around on the floor for the lighter, striking it again before bringing his free hand to her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She chomped down on her lower lip and looked to the side, away from him.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

He headed to the front and was able to find several small sticks and leaves to use as kindling and a pile of firewood; the kind you buy at a gas station in the summertime. Obviously they weren’t the first to discover the cave. He could seriously kiss the party-goers who had left the unused firewood behind.