“I’m not trying to do anything,” I told Charlie, squeezing his hand tighter. It felt very important not to let go, now. Like our roles reversed, and I was the one clinging to him for once. Or maybe, we were holding on to each other.
Maybe we always had been.
“I don’t know what’s happening!”
The colors swirled up our arms, almost tickling as they danced like heatless flames along my skin.
“I don’t want this,” Charlie said, angry and defiant. He grabbed hold of my nape, bringing our foreheads together and closing the loop, feeding the current of energy flowing into him back toward me. “Not without you.”
With the kind of deep knowing that only came from personal experience, I understood exactly how he felt. So, I cupped his cheek with my free hand. “Alright, then. Together.”
Whatever happened, we’d face it together.
Color exploded all around us, like a painting poured onto a canvas. Gone were the shadows obscuring our beautiful little home. The windows blew wide open, and the sunset hues swirled and swirled, spilling out into the real sky above.
“He’s stopped bleeding!” Not-Wearing-Sunglasses yelled, words nearly drowned out by the sound of the propellers.
“WHAT?” Tate shouted back. He hovered over me, pounding on my chest to force what little oxygenated blood remained through my heart and out to the rest of my body.
“HE’S STOPPED BLEEDING! THERE’S NO WOUND!”
The compressions halted, rough hands pulling the bloody piece of cloth away. “I don’t understand—what happened?”
“Maybe the shot missed him?”
“No, I saw it! He’s covered in blood!”
Sunglasses shrugged. “The other one’s breathing is shallow. We need to get them in the chopper, now.”
“You go first, I’ll keep working on him.”
With the color returned to our lookout, I realized I wasn’t see-through anymore. Neither was Charlie. By closing the loop, he fed the energy I gave him right back into me.
Mine, and then his.
Mine again, now his.
Ours.
Around and around and around. All I could do was hold on.
I peered through the open windows behind him. They faced west, overlooking the forest we’d watched over together.
Just a hint of a Mountain Bluebird sky peeked through the brewing thunderheads bathed in warm sunset hues. Over the distant ridge, a hazy, orange glow threatened fire; emberssparking and popping through the air. For a moment, I wondered if that was what came after death, beckoning us both.
But why would it be filled with more hardship and strife? More uncertainty?
I looked back at the storm clouds overhead and the raging fire just out of sight. Those things weren’t a finality.
They were a possibility.
A future.
If we decided to leave the lookout, to walk into that great unknown, the blaze might burn out by the time we arrived.
Or, we might have to walk through it.
We could be caught in a storm and left with nothing but each other to brave the elements. Or it could pass us by, merely shading our journey from the harsh sun.
