Unlikely Allies

"I think it sounds like a great idea," I said, meaning it.

"You do?" he asked surprised.

"Hell yeah, 'follow your dreams' has always been my motto, obviously," I said, gri

"Is that what you do, follow your dreams?"

"I always have. My venture here wasn't exactly my dream since I didn't know about Rick until two days before I got here. Now my dreams are little hazier."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure I'm ready to say goodbye to Rick just yet, among other things…"I said, letting my voice trail off.

"Am I among the other things?" he asked as I tilted my head up.

"Is that presumptuous of me?" I asked before mentally kicking myself. I really did need a latch for my mouth sometimes.

His lips found mine. I turned to face him, looping my arm around his neck. "Not at all," he finally whispered against my lips. I shivered as his hands pulled at my layers of clothing, seeking the bare skin underneath. I tilted my head back as his lips trailed a path down my jaw line, stopping at my neck before dipping lower to my collarbone.

A wracking cough from me ruined the moment and he pulled back and tucked me back in the crook of his arm.

"This rain needs to stop so they can hurry up and fucking save us," he said frustrated.

I was surprised by his mood change and harsh tone. "Hey, it's all going to be okay," I said, using the practical voice I'd used for years.

"You could die in conditions like this by getting sick," he said.

"I'm fine. Besides, I'm more worried about you," I said, trying to tamper back the urge to cough again.

"This whole thing is messed up," he said, pounding his fist against the dirt floor. "You're not supposed to be catering to me. I'm the man. I should be ru

"Wow, equal rights much?" I asked, aggravated by his tone. "Last time I checked, I'm doing a damn good job with those things," I said, choking out another cough.

"That's not what I meant, beach bu

"Whatever, I'm taking care of us fine," I grumbled, still coughing.

"You are," he said, ru

My dreams twisted and turned as I went from lying in the freezing snow, yearning for the sun, to lying on the beach with the sun beating down on my skin. I welcomed the warm kiss of the sun until the pleasure slowly began to fade and the heat became unbearable. Sweat began to pour off my body, leaving me yearning again for the ice-cold snow.

I sat up, startled to find that the heat from the dream had followed me into reality. My sudden movement made Mason's arm fall away, and with it, the blanket of heat that surrounded me was lifted. I switched on the flashlight and shined it on the roof of our shelter so I could see.

Mason was fast asleep. Reaching a hand up, I swiped it across his forehead and was shocked to feel it burning up. All that heat I had felt in my dreams had manifested from him. I propped the flashlight up against a rock and leaned in so I could look at his leg, carefully unwrapping the gauze and piece of vinyl I had applied the night before. It stuck slightly to the wound and I had to peel it slowly away. When it was finally free, I picked the light back up and shined it on his leg. It was a putrid angry mess. The wound oozed thick yellow tinted liquid and the skin had changed from red to purple in color. How had it gotten so out of control? Had I made a mistake covering it?

Chapter 13

I was still sitting by Mason's leg when morning rolled around several hours later. His fever continued to blaze out of control, and his sleep was fitful as he woke several times only to fall back to sleep almost instantly.

The rain continued to fall and I wanted to scream in frustration. I had no doubts that we'd eventually be rescued, but I was begi

"Beach bu

I moved from my perch by his leg and moved up by his head. Smoothing a hand across his forehead, I was dismayed his temperature seemed even higher.

"My leg," he said, more of a statement than a question.

I nodded. "It's infected and you're burning up with fever."

"I know," he said, sighing heavily.

"Did you know last night?" I asked.

"I've known for a while," he admitted.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I demanded.

"Because, it wouldn't have done any good to worry you u

"I need to get help," I said after a moment of silence.

"You'd get lost. You don't know these mountains," he said, dismissing my idea.

"Well, you do, and surely someone of your expertise can help out a novice like me," I said sarcastically before I could stop myself. I felt like a complete ass for giving him a hard time when he was so sick, but we had to do something.

He sighed, closing his eyes. "Your best bet would be to follow the mountain down. If rescue missions have been detached, they'll work a grid up the mountain, so you're more likely to run into search crews that way. The issue will be remembering how to get back up here to show them where I am."

His words took some of the steam out of my sails and I sank back on my heels. He was right. I was notorious for getting lost back home. So much so that my mom often told me I would give "absent-minded professors" a run for their money. I would defend myself, but she had a point. My mind often wandered when I was taking in the colors around me, fantasying about how I could re-create them on paper. This trait usually left me driving past destinations, making wrong turns and more often than not, winding up somewhere entirely different than I originally pla

"Here, you need to take these," I said, holding out the four precious Advil pills I had unwrapped earlier for when he was awake.

"We should save those," he protested.

"For what?" I scoffed. "Seriously, you're not thinking we should save them for me, I hope. For someone so smart, you sure can be a dumbass," I said, handing him the water bottle.

He looked at me through hooded eyes, obviously contemplating arguing, but either lacked the will or energy to do so.

I watched as he swallowed the pills and then drifted back into a fever-induced sleep. While he slept, I began to concoct a plan to save us both. I left our shelter briefly to retrieve the raincoat I had anchored to the roof. Dragging the soaking wet raincoat into the cave behind me, I set to work, tearing it up.

Several hours later, both raincoats were sitting in front of me in shreds. My hands were raw and chapped from tearing the material with my bare hands. I had used a sharp rock to help start my tears, but the rest came from my hands that now screamed in agony. My broken finger was throbbing so badly I was convinced a mini band was rocking inside it.