CRAVE (25 page)

The tears that had been threatening all night exploded in a hiccupping sob. Her hand immediately went to her mouth to cover the sound so that she wouldn’t wake anyone. She hadn’t allowed worry to enter her mind, but as soon as she realized that he was going to make it because the people with him would insure that, a flood of relief-induced tears trailed down her face.

Crave was coming. And he was going to make it alive.

She didn’t sit down again. She watched as the agonizingly slow-moving lights faded with the rising sun. She shed her blankets one at a time as the cold was gradually banished by the sun’s heat.

In the hills where Fosterland sat, it didn’t get as hot as it did on the desert floor. If it did, the Rautt wouldn’t have survived there. The most extreme weather for them was cold, which is more easily managed than killing heat.

In the first rays of light, Crave came to a halt and swayed on his feet. Scape, who was closest to him dropped his bike where he stopped it and rushed to Crave’s side, leaving his passenger to scramble off before the heavy machine hit the ground. When Crave’s knees bent and gave way, Scape grabbed him around the waist.

Crave responded immediately with a ferocious snarl, showed his fangs, and, though weak, did his best to push Scape away. The burst of anger had given strength to Crave’s legs again.

Scape let him go and backed away a few inches. “Alright, big fella. Just tryin’ to help. I get it. You’re doin’ this on your own terms. No one’s takin’ that away. But I’ll be here if you need me.”

Crave threw off the blanket as he rallied and somehow found a forward momentum though it was more a stagger than a walk.

“You remember how to ride?” Free asked Serene.

“Of course,” she said.

“Okay. Slide up here.”

Free left his pride and joy in the hands of his mate and, seeing that somebody else was helping Scape right his motorcycle, advanced forward until he was walking next to Crave. He took the waterskin from his son and pulled it over his own shoulder.

“I’m here, Crave,” Free spoke barely above a whisper. “You’ve been alone a long time, but you’ll never be alone again.”

Crave was moving so slowly that it took five hours to cover two and a half miles and Free stayed with him for every inch of it. When he was just a mile away from Fosterland he went down on all fours then began crawling even though the sand burned his hands.

Free pulled Crave’s head up to take some of Flora’s specially formulated water. Crave offered up a half-hearted growl and tried to slap him away, but Free said, “No, son. You’re going to drink this water and live. Your mother and I are ready to play with the cubs you and Dandelion are going to give us.”

Crave stilled and allowed his head to be tilted back. He drank as Free poured water into his mouth.

“Good,” Free said, as he capped the skin and gently patted Crave on the head. “Good.”

Crave’s four former crew members gave up their bikes to other riders and became walking tent posts. They each tied a skirt to their heads and held a corner of the blanket over Crave and Free, who was also on his hands and knees, crawling with his boy. Every couple of minutes he murmured a short sentence infused with encouragement as Crave continued to defy the limits of mortality and move forward.

He said, “We’re here for you, Crave. All of us. We never forgot you.

“There was never a moment when you weren’t alive in our hearts.

“Until you have children of your own you’ll never know how much we love you, how we grieved when we thought we’d lost you, and how glad we are to have you home.

“Do you know what’s behind you right now? Half of Exiled are here with you in this gods-forsaken place. They’ve burned with you and froze with you. They think that much of you.

“Serene is here.

“Charming is here.

“Leo is here.

“Raven is here.

“Snow is here.

“Scape is here.

And one by one Free named every person who’d come to show their support for Crave.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes and know how proud I am that you’re my son.

“Dandelion is waiting for you, Crave. She loves you and she’s waiting for you.”

It was a strange configuration for Dandy to try to make out, but at a half mile she could tell that two people were crawling under a makeshift canopy. She held her hand up to her eyes and squinted, staring hard at the figures on hands and knees.

Behind where Dandy’s skirt billowed in the blistering wind, a crowd had grown as the spectacle played itself out. A sympathetic sound rippled through the crowd when they saw Crave fall prone onto the sand. When his arms gave out, refusing to support him anymore, he went down on his belly and so did his father.

“I’m here with you, Crave. Whatever you go through, I go through. What hurts you, hurts me. What makes you happy, makes me happy. I love you and I’ll never leave you alone again.”

Crave’s lips were so parched they were nothing more than a series of vertical white cracks. Even though he’d kept a blanket on the entire time, his skin had burned through the weave in the cloth and the reflection from the sand. His face was turned toward Free and, for a moment, he made eye contact.

Calling on every reserve of will he had in his soul, Crave started forward again, crawling on his stomach, pushing his face through the sand, telling himself that Dandelion had to know beyond any morsel of doubt that he would do anything for her.

When Dandy saw Crave fall on his face, she couldn’t force herself to wait any longer. She ran down the hill so fast that she reached the scorching desert sand within minutes.

Since she’d never been in warrior training, she’d never pushed her body hard except for the times when Crave had demanded that she try to play scruffal. But she pushed hard then, as she sprinted across the sand.

Free heard Leo say, “She’s coming.”

He raised his head and blinked a couple of times to try to see through the sand in his eyes. Leo was right. Dandelion was running toward them with a speed that seemed out of place in the mid-day heat.

Free laughed. “Crave,” he said, “you did it.”

It was hard to say whether or not Crave heard because every one of the Exiled present had raised a cheer when they saw that Dandy was coming to him. When the crowd gathered at Fosterland heard the cheering, they raised their own voices in howls and cries of jubilation. With a single exception, the children didn’t understand the import of what was happening, but they did understand excitement. Celebration and merriment are universal. So they joined in, dancing, yelling, twirling, and leaping.

Halfway to the makeshift caravan, the thought crossed Dandy’s mind that Crave might be lying face down in the sand because his heart had given out. That thought scared her more than a hundred demons on her tail and caused her to run faster. But then she reasoned that the Exiled with him wouldn’t have been cheering if he was dead. It took a minute for her brain to catch on to the fact that they were cheering
her
on.

Charming dropped back to the tanker bringing up the rear to speak to Race. “Head home and get Flora. There are a lot of people who are going to need treatment for burns and dehydration. Load up everything she needs and bring her quick as you can. Tell her she needs to plan to be here for a while. We’re not taking these folks back across this desert tomorrow.”

Race nodded. “Be there before dark.”

He pulled his goggles down, tied a vermillion and tan skirt over his head, made a U-turn, and sped away with the emptied trailer bouncing and squeaking behind him.

Dandelion threw herself onto the ground next to Crave and began trying to turn him over onto his back. When Free saw what she wanted, he helped roll Crave until he faced up.

Dandy wasn’t prepared for what she saw. She knew he’d begun his journey fighting with Charming, but the evidence of that coupled with the damage the desert had done made him practically unrecognizable.

“Crave,” she said. “It’s me.”

She kissed his lips. They felt more like tree bark than the full soft mouth she was used to, but she didn’t care. She placed tiny little kisses all over his face.

Looking up at Free, she said, “Give me that water.”

He handed it over without question. She wet the hem of her skirt and began wiping the sand away from where it had mingled with sweat and matted on his face.

“Crave. Do you know me?”

She gingerly dabbed cool water on his face until he reached up and encircled her wrist with his hand. His eyes were barely slits, but they were open and she knew he recognized her.

He tried to say something, but it came out as a croak.

“Can you lift his head? So I can give him more water?”

Free knelt behind Crave and lifted him up so his son could lean back against him and take water without choking. He swallowed once, twice, then spluttered and gagged a little. She stopped.

He looked straight at her and tried again. That time she understood what he said. As did his father, his crew, and everyone who had huddled close in a circle around them.

“Full. Moon.”

Understanding what he meant by that, Dandy laughed and rained more kisses on his face and neck, while Free shouted loud enough so that everyone could hear, “There’s going to be a mating ritual in two weeks! On the next full moon!”

Another round of cheers and laughter went up and that was remarkable considering the sorry condition of the spectators.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Charming helped Gore empty the second trailer so that Crave could be transported to Fosterland. Crave’s crew laid him in the bed of the empty trailer to one side, leaving room for Dandy to ride with him. She heard him groan when they lifted him and felt it all the way to her bone marrow.

Freed to move fast once again, it only took minutes for the Exiled to climb the hill to the old Rautt camp, dismount their bikes and get out of the sun.

Serene directed everyone into the dining hall to wait for Flora. Those who were hungry could eat. Those who were thirsty could drink. Those who wanted to wash the sand away were directed to outdoor showers.

They fashioned a stretcher for Crave using a portable cot frame and followed Serene to the largest of the Fosterland guest rooms. They quickly learned it wasn’t a good idea to get between Crave and Dandy because he became agitated whenever she was out of sight, even for a second.

When he was transferred to the bed, Serene said, “We’ll bring water and cloths so you can wash him. Race will be back with Flora before dark. She’ll see Crave first and then tend to the others.”

Dandy was sitting next to the bed holding the back of Crave’s hand, being careful not to touch his palms where the hot sand had burned him.

She saw through the slits formed at Crave’s eyes that he was awake.

“You look horrific,” she said.

He gave her the faintest ghost of a smile.

A voice behind her said, “Is that him?” Dandy looked over her shoulder. Dread was standing outside, peeking around the doorway.

She looked back at Crave, then at Dread. “Yes. It’s him, but a lot the worse for wear.”

“You said he was handsome.”

“Well,” she laughed, “he usually is.” Crave squeezed her hand lightly as if in thanks for the compliment. “He’s had a bad couple of days. But you know what?”

Dread shook his head.

“You’re looking at the first person to ever cross the barrens on foot.”

Dread looked at Crave. He didn’t entirely understand that, but got that it was something admirable. He looked back at Dandy and disappeared just before Trace and Sabre arrived with a bucket of water and some clean cloths.

“Gods,” Trace said. “You sure that’s Crave?”

Dandy looked back at him. “The one and only,” she said. “There’s nobody like him.”

“I have to admit he’s a romantic son-of-a-bitch.” She put her hands on her hips and grinned. “He’s got a little brother, doesn’t he?”

Dandy chuckled. “Yeah. He’s here somewhere.”