Out From the Shadows

Chapter 19

The screams continue and when they cease, my ears still ring with the high-pitched sound. I waver in between semi-consciousness and sleep, spending the brief time with my eyes open staring at the wall across from me. It seems like hours, maybe even days, though boredom might be making it so.

I maintain this unplanned schedule until it is brutally interrupted by the echo of footsteps radiating from the hall. I whimper and slide my body to the farthest corner from the metal door. All I can think is that he has come for me, after all, he told me I was useless to his "cause".

My fears subside once the footsteps pause and the creaking of another door fills the silence. The door to my cell is sealed shut, so it means the one next door isn't. More footsteps. Then more silence. And mumbling picks up, though I can't understand any words being said. I do know that it has to be the woman speaking, my ears attuned to her specific voice. I start to feel my eyes lids slipping and my mind beginning to go fuzzy around the edges. A scream startles me back to reality in my dark cell and I begin to shiver, but I don't feel cold, even as footsteps retreat back the way they came.

******

My eyes spring open and my surroundings are different from before I went to sleep. The broken furniture has been removed, the holes in the walls and roof have been sealed using some sort of fabric. Only one hole remains; the one directly over me the size of my head.

With more inspection, I spy Ashton laying on the floor; unmoving but for his chest rising and falling steadily. A small fire lives in a metal pit positioned near his body. He seems to have been coddling the fire all night, since a poking stick rests in his stilled, out reached hand.

I carefully avoid him as I make my way outside to attend to some business. Once managed, I float back inside on the shivery wind just as a huge gust shoves the rickety door into my backside and closed. I cringe as the wind picks up speed and ferocity, the fabric-covered holes flapping viciously. The fall winds have always been nasty, especially here where there are no huge mountains or hills to hinder them.

The noise awakens Ashton, who looks drop dead tired. I grab my bag and rifle through it for more weather appropriate attire. I take a light jacket and heavy duty dress pants that aren't too fancy or restricting for the wilderness. Ashton goes to his own bag, which upon further inspection, looks emptier. I keep my distance while still looking into his bag as he pads through it. I remember everything I packed for him, and the one thing that isn't there his blanket.

He must have given up his blanket to cover the holes in the building. I feel guilty, my blanket displayed over the couch from when I used it. Through the guilt I also feel gratitude, for he kept us both warmer by his sacrifice. I smile and go to a corner to change.

"Ashton, do you mind looking away for a moment, I need to change."

He stops digging through his bag to look at me. His head nods and he turns back around and mumbles something.

"What did you say?" I ask, but not accusingly, only curious.

" You can call me Ash of you want."

My heart  seems to beat louder and faster; our love feeling like a distant memory, though it's silly since we only fought about a day or two ago. How a broken heart can have such an affect, I don't know.

" Only if you call me Al again." I respond, flirting a bit.

I realize now how confused he might be by my mixed signals and decide right here to give him another chance. After all, he ran away to find me and keep me company. My own father would rather turn me in than help.