CALLEY (RIBUS 7 Book 3) (37 page)

As the light began to dim, Chelan stuffed a few belongings into her pack. Then she eased over to Jason’s tent and knelt down. She ran her fingers along the zipper that closed it. “Good-bye, Jason,” she whispered. “I have to go.”

Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her pack and ran to the rendezvous site. There, she huddled under the branches of the great fir tree. She looked at her watch. It was now dark, and she had just under three hours to wait. In no time, the moonless night rendered her completely blind.

She felt for her phone and looked at the screen, praying there was coverage. She had one earthy task left to do. Despite the time change, she keyed in Will’s number.

He answered on the first ring. “Chelan, are you all right?”

“You’re up late.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” There was a hesitation. “You’re at the site?”

“Yes,” she whispered dolefully.

“I’m going to miss you, sweet sister.”

“I’m going to miss you too, Will. I wish we could have spent even more time together.”

“I’m just so grateful to know that you’re well and that we did have some time together. And even though I’m losing you again, this time I know you are going to a better place, a place you love and now call home.”

Chelan exhaled sharply. “You have always been so supportive and understanding, sweet brother. I cannot tell what the future holds for me, but it is not beyond the realm of possibility that we will meet again.”

“I will always hang on to that hope, little sis. That would make me immensely happy.”

Chelan smiled. “I love you, Will. Say good-bye to Marion for me. And I wish you both the best with your new addition when he or she arrives.”

“Thanks, Chel, and I love you too. Be well always.”

Chelan put the phone away and tried to still her thudding heart. It was time to concentrate on the here and now. Fear and pain were quickly being overshadowed by excitement and exhilaration. What would she say and what would she do the minute she saw Fremma? Her body warmed unexpectedly. Would he make love to her right here, as he had done when he left her? Chelan could hardly catch her breath.

She reached for her small flashlight. It was eleven—only one more hour. Chelan could barely contain herself. She wanted to jump up and walk around, but she dared not. Her eyes strained against the blackness. Then she became still. Would she hear the ship? Would she hear Fremma? She flinched. She was so blind, he could scare her to death if he wanted, and Chelan shivered at the thought.

More time passed. She held her breath, straining to hear even the smallest of sounds. Then she looked at her watch again. It was midnight. Chelan buried her face in her knees. Suddenly, somehow, being descended upon by the Warlord frightened her. This was no longer a fantasy. The Empire was coming to her little blue planet for her, and anything could happen.

She raised her head. It was just a few minutes after twelve. Chelan licked her dry lips. “Fremma?” she whispered. Then she hunkered down, her heartbeat so loud she could hardly stand it.

Soon it was one a.m., and she was more than a little anxious. She drew her jacket to her tightly and stared up at the stars. One turned into two, and Chelan was panicky. “Fremma?” she called softly.

As three a.m. descended, Chelan was sick with fear. Fremma’s warning about RIBUS 7’s possible destruction pierced her mind. She fumbled around and then staggered to her feet. Her breathing was strained, and her head hurt. “Oh god, Fremma, where are you?”

She paced back and forth until finally she stumbled over a rock and came crashing to the ground. Her eyes welled. She knew the Empire too well. Someone should have been here for her. If not Fremma, then someone else. And what of the other men, both the ones on Earth and those on the dark side of the moon? Where were they?

She sprang to her feet as something cracked in the forest. Images of the shadowed figure in the stairwell burst into her thoughts. She stilled herself, knowing that calling out was not wise. Her heart was now pounding so hard, her chest hurt. But then, there was nothing.

She released the tension in her aching muscles and slumped to the ground. She coiled up against the cold and tried to concentrate. Something was desperately wrong. As the first rays of sunlight descended upon her, she was inert, her mind and body in shock. Fremma had missed the deadline, and she was stupefied. His voice rang in her ears. Months until Korba could get her. Months alone, oppressed by crushing uncertainty.

Finally, at seven a.m., she roused herself enough to stand on shaky legs. She looked over to where the fighter should have been, her eyes barely focusing. It
had
to be there, yet it wasn’t. She searched the heavens one last time. Some sort of calamity had befallen RIBUS 7; of that she had no doubt. But she was too tired, and indeed too terrified, to sort through all the possibilities; the ramifications were too dire to process. She needed to get back to camp and start working on alternative plans.

She slouched to pick up her pack and then began trudging back. At the periphery of the forest, she squinted out into the brightness of the clearing. There, on her favorite large rock, sat Jason. He wore only a pair of white jogging shorts, his bronze body hunched over, motionless.

Chelan stumbled out of the trees. Then, silently, she dropped her pack. Her heart bled for him and the pain she had inflicted. She closed her eyes momentarily, wondering if his anguish was as great as hers. Then she took a tentative step toward him, and then another. Finally, when she was close, she put her trembling fingers to her lips. “Jason?” she whispered.

His head shot up and he almost fell off the rock. His weary eyes focused on her, almost unbelieving. “You came back,” he croaked.

Chelan could not bring herself to explain. She simply held her arms out.

Jason leapt from the rock and grabbed her, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. “You stayed,” he uttered, and he held her as though he would never let her go. Finally he let her down and looked deep into her eyes. “Oh god, I love you, Chelan.”

Chelan sniffed back her tears. “I love you too, Jason.”

Jason’s eyes traversed her drawn face, her night of sleeplessness vividly apparent. “You need rest,” he said with concern.

Chelan nodded weakly. Her eyes were already beginning to close. Jason led her to a warm grassy area then spread out a blanket. He stripped her of her heavy coat and drew her down to the ground with him.

Chelan’s legs felt boneless, and as she sank to the blanket, she found herself wondering if Fremma was just simply late. But hard as she tried, she could not concentrate on any of the possible scenarios. Right now she needed only two things: sleep and Jason.

He lay down beside her and she curled into his warm body. He held her tightly as he pulled a sleeping bag over them both, and instantly, she slept.

At 5:30 p.m., Chelan finally woke up. She strained to look around and blinked against the sloping rays. Then she peered over at the substantial campfire to where Jason squatted. She rose to her feet and moved over beside him, sitting down next to him. He smiled at her and kissed her head. Then he returned to cooking three small trout. She smiled. “Been fishing, have we?”

Jason’s warm eyes met hers. “Just a little.”

Chelan stared at the flames licking the pan where the fish sizzled. “I’m sorry I put you through so much.”

Jason nodded but continued with his work, choosing to remain silent.

Chelan hesitated. “Can you take some more time off?” she asked apprehensively.

Jason finally stopped cooking and looked at her intently. “Will you stay?”

She glanced at him. “I owe you a better explanation.”

Jason put the food down and sat back, waiting patiently.

Chelan’s stomach turned over. “The truth is I’m here because the person who was supposed to come… didn’t.”

“So you still may go?”

Chelan flinched. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

Jason returned to cooking the fish. “I’ll stay with you until whoever it is comes,” he stated flatly.

Chelan didn’t feel at all well. It was as if she was using him. It wasn’t fair, yet she feared being alone. She looked toward the forest, the dark shadows taking on sinister overtones she couldn’t begin to deal with.

Her anxiety suddenly erupted. She needed a diversion,
any
diversion. She sprang to her feet and started for the lake. As she walked, she kicked off her shoes and then pulled at her jeans. At the water’s edge she peeled them off along with her socks. She stood there for a moment and then knifed into the frigid water, swimming for all she was worth. She needed to numb her senses and drain herself of all emotion. She wanted time to stop, and the world to wash away.

Jason heard the splash and twisted around. He sprang to his feet and ran to the water. “Chelan!” he yelled. “It’s too cold! You’ll get hypothermic!”

But still she continued, her body seemingly immune to the icy assault.

“Chelan!” he boomed, but she did not respond.

Finally, Jason dove in, his powerful body pulsing forward with each stroke. Within minutes he caught up to the freezing woman. He grabbed her, her flesh as white as snow and her lips blue. She was torpid and went limp in his arms. He dragged her to shore and then ran with her to the fire. There he lowered her to the ground, then dashed for a towel and blanket. He skidded to a halt next to her, crouched down, and began rubbing her ashen skin with the towel.

“Damn it, Chelan.” he muttered between clenched teeth. “This isn’t August. What’s the matter with you?” He reached for her shirt. “You need to take your wet clothes off.” And he yanked the shirt over her head. Then he threw the blanket over her and drew her to him. Scrambling, he moved her as close to the fire as he dared.

Chelan finally blinked back to reality. She was not even sure what had happened. She had not thought about the water’s temperature. All she had wanted was to swim away from everything that troubled her, and before she knew it, she had been powerless in its icy grip.

Jason’s hands scrubbed over her slender body in his desperate attempt to warm her core. Chelan finally began to shiver again, and Jason felt a twinge of relief. Her body was responding.

As her feeling returned, Chelan tried to clear her weary mind. She forced herself to think. Fremma had missed the deadline—a deadline he would have missed only if something momentous had struck. Could he simply be late? The question was plaguing her, and she desperately wanted to believe in the possibility. But between the Empire’s clock-like precision and Fremma’s love for her, she knew some disaster of epic magnitude had occurred.

And what of the men on the ground? Surely, they knew what was happening. Would they not approach her, inform her of the status of the mission? Why did they seem to be missing? Was it because she was with Jason? Everything was suddenly just that much more complicated, and so amorphous.

Chelan’s teeth chattered and she hugged into Jason’s broad chest. Then he lay down, bringing her with him. He faced the fire and drew her in tight to his body so that her back was warmed by the embers, her front by him. His large hands continued to smooth over every inch of her torso. But she did not fret. For some reason she knew that no matter what, she was safe with him.

Her thoughts returned to her dilemma. More days, weeks, or months trapped on Earth. But where? It could not be a city. That would be a calamity for Korba. The location had to be remote and isolated, or a small town. All things considered, it had to be
here
. Because she was with her own kind, sensors set for alien physiology would not pick her out. Added to the whole convoluted mix was the fact that the warriors assigned the task of keeping her in their sites seemed to be absent. As a result, she could not simply wander from place to place. And since she had to stay here, Jason would eventually have to leave for his work. But his departure was now an absolute necessity, and one she almost welcomed. She needed to sort this out on her own without his involvement.

She tried to take several deep and calming breaths, and then she felt his hands become still. She looked up into his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked with concern.

Chelan scrambled up his solid body and hugged into his strong neck, burying her face in the strands of his wet hair. “Don’t let me go,” she pleaded.

Jason pulled the blanket tightly over her. He squeezed her to him. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I won’t let go.”

Chelan finally let her muscles relax and she sagged into him. Once again, sleep overtook her, and she remained in the loving arms of the giant man for the entire night.

*****

In the morning light, Chelan stirred and rolled onto her back. She looked up at the blue sky and stifled a twinge of disappointment. She was still on Earth. Maybe the Empire had been but a dream. Maybe this was reality, her only reality.

She pulled the blanket tight to her, noticing that Jason had also placed her down sleeping bag over her, protecting her against the morning dew. She ran her hands down her warm body and smiled. Held all night, yet untouched; comforted, yet not taken. Jason was a true man in every sense of the word.