Ever Hayes - Redemption

Ryan had apologized a dozen times. He couldn’t have meant it more than he clearly did, but I never let him off the hook. I never openly accepted his apology. I was always afraid Emily was gone for good. Now they both might be.

Tears welled up in my eyes. I shook my head and looked down at Ollie, who had finally fallen asleep. Kate was also asleep, curled up in a ball, holding her stomach. She was weak, had lost a lot of blood, and was shivering like crazy, but keeping her out of the rain was all I could do for her. There were no blankets, towels, or anything dry of any sort for me to cover her up with. Kate just had to survive.

From time to time, I would poke her to force a grunt or groan, my only assurance Kate was still conscious enough to know what was going on around her. Every ten minutes or so, I reminded Kate that someone had to be coming for us. Someone had to know the island had been hit by the tsunami. Kate would mumble something back but never anything intelligible. I was starting to worry that if or when someone did arrive, it would be too late for Kate.

I drifted in and out of my memories. I remembered the last night Ryan had come into our room. He was frisky as usual, but I had pushed him away, over and over again. He finally gave up and left. I had shut the light off and rolled over—facing away from the door toward the mirror on the wall. A few minutes later, I saw Ryan appear in the doorway, and he stood there for at least twenty minutes—silently watching me. He was still there when I fell asleep. He didn’t know what to say or do. He only wanted me to let him in to whatever I was feeling, but I just left him standing there. I completely shut him out.

When the storm hit, he had been there with his arms wrapped around me, whispering in my ear, telling me he loved me, and telling me everything would be okay. He was right, and he was wrong. This was not okay. Everything was not okay.

As much as I knew I loved Ryan, I had not said it back to him once tonight. I hadn’t given him any indication that I’d forgiven him for something that wasn’t even his fault. I hadn’t done what I should have done for the only man I’d ever loved. It was too late now. Ryan was gone. The ache in my heart made me want to scream. I thumped my head back against the tree trunk behind me, bit my trembling lip, and screamed inwardly. Damn it, Tara. Damn it . I shook my head and thumped it against the tree trunk once more. You’re such an idiot. You stupid, selfish, stupid woman.

At some point I must have drifted off, because something suddenly jolted me wide-awake. The rain had almost completely died down— we had to be at the edge of the hurricane —and I swore I could hear a motor. Or a boat. I tried to stand and realized I was holding something—Ollie. Wow, snap out of it.

I reached over and poked Kate. There was no grunt or groan this time. Shit . “Kate.” I poked her again. “Kate.” I shoved her. “Kate.”

Finally there was a low moan and a little movement. “They’re coming,” I said, though I wasn’t yet certain of that, or of what it was I’d heard. “Someone is coming.” No reply from Kate. This is not good. Hold on girl. Just hold on .

And then there was a light in the sky. Or was it two? They were distant and looked at first like parallel shooting stars, but they were coming right at us—getting bigger. And louder. The lights were approaching from Kauai. Within minutes, the sound accompanying the lights was unmistakable. Helicopters . I wanted to stand up and scream, “Help,” but moving hurt way too much. I raised one arm in the air and waved it weakly, even though I was certain they couldn’t yet see me. “We’re right here.” Did I say that out loud or just think it?

I reached out and poked Kate again. “They’re here.” I kissed the top of Ollie’s head. “They’re here, baby.”

A couple minutes later, the helicopters were circling overhead, with several spotlights searching the ground for life. I continued to wave my arm, and finally the light settled on our makeshift shack. Finally the light focused in on us. The helicopter moved off a few hundred yards, the light disappearing, but I knew they’d seen us. I knew someone was coming.

The next few minutes of darkness felt like an eternity, and the voice I heard next couldn’t have been real. It had to be an angel.

“Mommy, Mom, I’m here,” it said. It sounded like she was shouting.

I heard myself say, “You don’t have to shout.” And then someone took Ollie from my arms. Then I too was being lifted up. That was when I passed out.

One minute Blake was telling us how crazy it was that there was this much water in Bear Creek—“This was dried up a decade ago. They have to have blown the dam up top.”

The next minute he was pulling us to a stop and hushing us.

“What?” I asked.

“I know that sound.”

All I could hear was the river beside us. Danny and Eddie were looking around. The rest of us were staring at Blake. Then we heard a strange crackling and popping sound— like God was eating a bowl of Rice Krispies . Blake nodded. “Yep.”

We could smell the smoke well before we could see the fire. And then flames were everywhere, converging on us from every direction.

On the map we were just west of where Keller Creek joined Bear Creek. We had been descending quickly through the rocks beside the river for the past two hours, somehow avoiding detection from the dozens of choppers and planes that had passed overhead, and the occasional truck of troops that rolled by on the Santa Ana Trail alongside the river.

They had to think we were hiding—couldn’t be thinking we were on the move—thus the reason for the fire… for all the fires. The hills around us were ablaze. It was smart, and it was stupid. On the one hand, if we were hiding, we’d probably be dead soon—either from the smoke or the fire. But they could also be funneling us toward water, toward one of the seven or eight creeks that came down out of the mountains where we’d last been seen. They could be trying to narrow their search avenues.

The heat made it a stupid move. If they were tracking us with thermal imaging—with THIRST systems—the fires would make that method useless. They’d have to track us visually now. Which meant they’d either have choppers hovering over the rivers, or…

They’d have snipers in position to catch us fleeing.

Blake saw the first snipers before they saw us. He waved us down and indicated there were four of them ahead—set up at the next bend in the river. They were close to where Alder Creek and Hemlock Creek met up with Bear Creek and Breakneck Creek. “There’s a steep drop a short ways around that bend,” Blake pointed at the wall of rocks south of the river. With this much water there’s going to be a few small waterfalls there. It’s the perfect place for an ambush.”

He motioned that there were two snipers high and two low. I could see all four of them. They definitely didn’t know we were coming. Yet . The loud popping of the approaching flames masked the approaching choppers so we didn’t know they were near until they passed directly overhead. I don’t know how they didn’t see us—or maybe they did—but they moved on down the valley and we remained frozen, waiting for Danny to give us instructions.

Danny moved over to Eddie and pointed to a large rock hanging over part of the river. I saw Eddie reach his hand out for Ava’s, and she took it, following him out of sight. Danny then turned to Flynn and told her to go with them. She looked at me, and I nodded. Best to do what he asks .