Find Me: Lost And Found Part 19

Mariah's body was face down, caught in the jagged rocks at the base of the bluff. Her hands floated at her sides in the white water that was quickly turning pink around her. As I watched through my tears, with Drake's fingers hooked into the waistband of my jeans, the waves quickly lifted her limp form and gobbled her up into the surf. She was gone in seconds. The only sign she had ever been there was a solitary shoe that floated on the water for a few minutes before it became too waterlogged, sinking in submission to the ocean floor.

Shaking with pain and anger, I screamed at the waves that devoured Mariah up as if there was nothing to it, like she was just another piece of debris to be pulled out to sea by the unyielding currents. My hands pawed furiously at the side of the drop off like the crumbling ridge was a giant remote and all I had to do was find the rewind b.u.t.ton.

"No! Why?!" I screamed at the fading day, "Why'd you do this?"

"Riley," Drake dragged me away from the edge by my kicking legs and pulled me hard against his chest while speaking soothingly into my ear, "Sssh. She's gone. She's been gone, Riley, you have to let her go."

"No! No! Why would she do this? Why? Connor and Kris. Sunny and Foxy. All those men," I blubbered, "Drake, Jesus - all those men, they're all gone because of her. Because of her! Why would she do this?"

"Don't do that to yourself," he said softly against my ear. But I didn't hear him. It was all for nothing, just like I had feared. She cost me everything. Everything.

"Why?!" I sobbed, the scream catching in my throat.

"You saw her, Riley. She's been gone a long time. Some people-," his voice hitched and he cleared his throat before continuing, "I think some people can't be saved. But you gave her freedom. You did save her, Riley."

I shook my head against him, hitting his cheek with mine and still he didn't pull away. My mouth was full of the sandy and salty air and I spit it out with disgust. Sitting in Drake's lap, I stared at the spot just above my left foot, where the sun was dipping below the Pacific horizon. It dropped lower every time I blinked, like a shimmering gold diamond in the sky. Even after it was gone, the sunset stretched out above our heads like a quilt; warm bubble gum pinks bled into deep ambers that reminded me of the fire burning in the north. Breathing heavily, I looked up the coast where we came from, seeing nothing but a black outline of angry smoke above the land. How ironic. Not that long ago I imagined throwing myself off a cliff like this - my last kiss being w ith the crashing waves of the ocean and yet here I was still fighting to live. How f.u.c.king ironic. Drake lifted me off the ground, turned my body away from the sea, and led me through the deep gra.s.s and across the street into a gla.s.s-walled house. After settling down on the couch, I stared at all the windows. Floor to ceiling, the gla.s.s was cloudy from salt and calcium buildup and my last thought of the day was imagining the popping and cracking sound all that gla.s.s would make in the morning as the house exploded in a giant fireball.

I'll burn it. I'll burn it all to the ground and let the ashes float like snowflakes into the Ocean where Mariah rested. She said she loved the snow. I'll burn it all...for her.

We stood too close, but even though my eyes stung, my cheeks burned, and my lips were drying out from the heat, we didn't move. The windows cracked before imploding and then the gla.s.s rained down in front of us in jagged shards from the force of the roiling fireball inside the home that spit and shrieked in anger. As it leapt outside an upstairs window, the embers caught on the neighboring roof. In ten minutes seven houses were burning. Only then did we leave, but not on foot.

As Drake stood with his gloved hands resting on his thighs, straddling the shiny silver and black Ducati we hauled out of a nearby private garage, I shook my head. If Connor could only see me, what would he say? Surely, it would be something along the lines of 'I told you so'. Drake knocked on the top of my black helmet and I gave him the thumbs-up sign before climbing on behind him. It was such an intimate way to travel; one person molded into the back of another. With my inner thighs pinned against his legs and my arms secured around his fit midsection, taking care not to rub against his sutures, I held on tight as the tires squealed against the asphalt as we took off.

Drake eased us through the cramped streets with ease, slowing when necessary but for the most part keeping the speed over twenty miles an hour. When we hit clear patches of road, he would open the throttle and propel us forward like a bullet. Every hour we stopped to look for water, fuel and to set a fire, of course. The smell of smoke followed us, but I ignored the shift in the wind and enjoyed the ride.

A few times, I imagined that Drake was Connor and squeezed his chest, or rested my chin on his shoulder. But everything about him was different. I didn't want Drake as a lover - just as a friend. And his words echoed in my head - the declaration that he wasn't going to stay with us in the mountains. Sure, we had bled together, we had killed together and slept next to each other, but it was unclear how much of a friend Drake considered me.

Nearly five hours on the road and we reached Oceanside. Not long after, Drake followed my directions and went east on the 78. It was the way I came with Connor and Kris, it was the way I wanted to return. What took us days to travel on horseback was covered in mere hours on the bike. Except the air was cooler and the scenery was backwards as we steadily worked our way out east. We didn't dare start a fire in the countryside, but the lighter in my pocket itched to be used every mile the bike ate up. After stopping at a corner gas station and chugging down warm bottles of soda, we refueled with the help of a hose and I rifled through the dusty office, shoving a piece of paper and a large marker into Drake's backpack.

Our lunch consisted of stale cheese crackers and bruised apples we found that had fallen off the tree and rolled down the long sloped yard of a nearby residence. When Drake put his helmet on a peek of his brown hair showed at the base of his neck and the only way I could tell he was smiling was that the skin around his eyes crinkled softly.

"What?" I asked, before shoving my helmet on. It was still warm from the long morning ride. I secured my braid into the back of my jacket, shoving it as far beneath the collar as my hair would allow.

He shook his head, causing a glint of sunlight to reflect off his visor and temporarily blind me. "Nothin', I was just thinking," he said with a m.u.f.fled voice.

"About what?"

"Just. I don't know. This has been a fun ride."

I c.o.c.ked my head to side and studied him. He was still smiling, his eyes proved that, but I couldn't figure out what he meant. "You're actually having fun?"

"Aren't you?"

Was I? Everything around me was still; no breeze rustled the trees or the weeds that sprouted out of the split sidewalks, no creatures chirped or chittered, it was as if nature itself wanted to know if I was indeed having a good time. The windows of the building stared at me with large, open eyes, waiting for my answer. All the circ.u.mstances of the previous days, weeks and months should have made me miserable but it was true - the ride was fun. The fresh air pelting my neck as the bike charged up the hills was invigorating. Sort of like a cleanse.

"I shouldn't be," I said guiltily.

Drake's smile must have vanished because the lines around his eyes smoothed out instantly. With a curt nod, he gestured to the bike and we both straddled the monster. "Let's get on with it," he yelled over the roar of the engine.

With a tap of his shoulder and a hand signal to stop, Drake pulled off the highway onto the shoulder just before Horizon View Drive. He tugged his helmet off his head and swiped his sleeve over his sweaty brow. One difference between men and women is that men could make sweat look s.e.xy. With my hair plastered to my face, I felt grimy and not in the least appealing, not that it mattered. The sun had pa.s.sed over us hours before and long shadows from the manzanita and oak trees stretched out across the highway.

"Hold this? I'll be right back," I said after tossing my helmet into his lap. He called after me as I ran up the hillside but the words were drowned out by the vibrating sound of the idling bike.

There it stood, tall and sun-bleached. The barn that we slept next to on our first night out with the horses stood tall above the highway. It was hard to miss as you drove by. This was where Connor said he could live one day, even though there was nothing spectacular about the scenery. The dead gra.s.s crunched beneath my shoes as I approached it, unfolding the paper from the gas station. Inside the barn, just next to the sliding door was a bulletin board. After prying some of the rusted thumbtacks out of the cork, I rounded the barn to the side that faced the road below and tacked the paper to the rough wood.

In thick, black strokes, I wrote my first letter since finding the lodge the year before. After finishing, I stepped back to look at the bright white sheet against the maroon color of the barn. The smoothness of the paper looked out of place against the cracked paint and I squinted in the light to read the words one final time.

Connor and Kris, You won't read this but I had to tell you how sorry I am that I lost you. Wherever you ended up after leaving this place, please look for Mariah there so she isn't alone anymore. I hope I find you in my dreams.

I love you...so much. - Riley

CHAPTER twenty-five.

Once we left Ramona, an anxiety built up inside me that was impossible to ignore. What was I going to say to the others? How would I explain what happened to Connor and Kris when I didn't know that answer myself? They weren't in the warehouse from what I saw, and there was no sign of the other horse either. But Connor would never have just left me there. He would have searched until he found me. Which meant only one thing - they were dead.

The bike roared up the mountains with ease and soon we were surrounded by the pine trees of Julian. The tall and bushy conifers felt like home. The smell was so different there than anywhere else. Fresh air, heavy with the scent of pine, sap and earth saturated my senses. The town of Julian looked the same as it did the last time I pa.s.sed through, except for a few deep and wide puddles in the gutters. Too nervous to stop and prolong the inevitable, we continued on the 79 until it met with Sunrise Highway.

It was as if I had been gone for years instead of months - that's how much I craved the peaceful solitude of Mt. Laguna. The din of the motorcycle echoed loudly around the summits creating a dull reverberation through the trees that sounded less like the purr of the expensive bike and more like a dying tractor. A few times since we pa.s.sed through Ramona the engine hum morphed over the valleys, coming back slower and more propeller-like, but there were houses and rocks and water for the sound to bounce off of, distorting the sound. Plus, we had our helmets on and the drone of the bike beneath me was the loudest noise of all. With one arm comfortably hooked around Drake's chest, I held onto the side of my seat with my free hand and looked out at the pa.s.sing trees. As the sun ran away toward the coast, it stole the light of day from us and replaced it with a cool, steel sky. The stars multiplied by the hundreds every time I glanced up and just before the last rays of light disappeared beyond the forest the lodge sign came into view.

Drake pulled off the asphalt after I squeezed his shoulder and pointed to the right. He took the drive slow, easing the tires around potholes loosened up from a recent rainstorm, being careful not to run over the disturbed rocks or small branches that had fallen out of the encroaching trees. When the remnants of the main house came into view, he came to a stop and he eased the bike toward a cl.u.s.ter of burnt roof beams. Without waiting for him, I dismounted and yanked the helmet off, letting it fall to the ground as I jogged toward the lawn. Summer had finally gotten the better of the gra.s.s, replacing it with an ugly brown color, leaving funky green bunches every ten feet or so. It still looked beautiful to me though.

"Riley, wait up!" Drake called from behind me.

I stopped in the middle of the lawn, almost underneath the branches of the great oak that was centered there. An image of Connor sleeping beneath the tree and Fin taking me down the trail where the greenhouse used to be came back. With a slow blink, the memory faded. It was just a tree again. Cold air p.r.i.c.ked at the exposed parts of my skin with curiosity, as if the mountain air was feeling me out and saying; I know you, welcome back.

Pieces of hay still lay scattered about the base of the fence post by the Recreation building, as they were waiting around for a wind strong enough to relocate them to somewhere else. It looked like a horse hadn't been there since we left several weeks before. Even though I knew it was too good to be true, part of me still ached when I realized Foxy hadn't made her way back with Connor and Kris.

Drake caught up with me just before I reached the trail, still peeling the gloves off his hands. "Were you planning on leaving me with the bike, or something?"

"No, sorry. I just need to know. I need to know if they're here." I breathed heavily, picking up the pace as the narrow dirt trail began to slope downwards toward the lake.

"Where are we going?" he asked from behind me.

Halfway down the trail, I stopped to whistle loudly and Drake b.u.mped into me, knocking me off balance and into the trunk of a tree. "d.a.m.n," I said, brushing loose pieces of bark off my shirtsleeve. A glint twinkled in the distance between two pines and my heart leapt at the sight of it. The lake.

"Sorry, what'd you stop for?" Drake flicked a sappy cl.u.s.ter of pine needles off my shoulder with a smile.

"Shush, listen," I answered. When my call wasn't returned with a familiar bark, I whistled again. "That's...odd."

"Huh?"

"My dog. She's not answering me." I rushed back down the trail, Drake mumbling something behind me and when we reached the bend that took us toward the lake, we could see the cabin tops.

Not sure what to expect, I simply stood before them, looking at each for signs of life behind the windows and finding none. The fireplaces were unlit, the doors all closed, the curtains drawn. I saw the cabins like that once before - when Connor and I first arrived to find only Fin living there. The cabins were empty.

"No," I gasped. Drake put a hand on my shoulder and I shrugged it off so hard the muscle in my neck cramped. "They wouldn't. They wouldn't leave me."

"Maybe something happened. Um, maybe they found a safer place?"

I sent a disgusted look at Drake, "Ana's pregnant, they wouldn't just move, Drake."

"Okay, well, go knock. Maybe they are just... I don't know, hiding out in there or something. The bike is not exactly quiet you know. They could've heard us coming."

Right. But Zoey would be barking. She knew my whistle. Even though I'd been gone awhile, she wouldn't have forgotten my call. Plus, the more I thought about it, the more I realized some of the vehicles might have been missing.

"Stay here in case someone's inside, okay?"

He nodded and kicked at the dirt, looking bored with a snarky expression on his face. Of course, this was all a monumental waste of his time and he couldn't wait to be rid of me so he could move on to bigger and better things. Like eating beans out of a can in some rest stop off the freeway.

All of the cabin doors were locked - even mine. After peering inside the front door through a gap in the curtain, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. It didn't look any different from the way we left it, but I hadn't exactly taken a mental picture of the place on my way out the door.

"Where would they have gone?" I asked my reflection in the gla.s.s.

Nothing was broken, damaged or missing. The water spigot on the side of the porch came on, releasing cool, clean water when I turned the valve. The small makeshift greenhouse behind the cabin was teeming with greens and ripe tomatoes. There was shelter, water and food, but no people.

"Where the h.e.l.l did they go?" I demanded an answer from the empty air but only got my bangs blown into my eyes in response.

"Riley? What do you want to do?" Drake followed me to the back of the cabin and kicked a loose rock out in front of him. It bounced down the dirt slope that led to the edge of the lake but didn't quite reach the water.

Reflections of the sunset danced along the ripples, drawing my eyes out to the center of the lake where the pinks and purples merged in and out of each other. I wanted to float there, just forget about everything and everyone and float for a while. When I opened my mouth to tell Drake I didn't know - I didn't know what to do, something in the tree line on the far side of the lake moved. At first, I closed my eyes. If it was Fin, I didn't want to see him.

"Well, look at that!"

Tentatively, and with my teeth biting down on my lower lip I opened my eyes. Standing tall and proud in a slick brown coat was our deer. I hadn't seen her in months, so long in fact that earlier in the summer we thought she might have left the mountains or been taken down by a starving cougar. Yet there she was. And not alone. She had a mate, a strong looking buck that couldn't have been much older. She flicked her ears at me, her way of saying h.e.l.lo and I returned the gesture with a slow raise of one arm. That was our greeting. A subtle flick and a gentle wave. She grazed nonchalantly, as if that was her purpose for being at the edge of the lake but I knew it wasn't. Curiosity had brought her there. Maybe it was her way of telling us that she had found a love of her own, and that she was going to be okay.

When they trotted off, I turned to find Drake eying me. "So, what...are you the deer whisperer now?"

"No. We're family."

"You sure it's okay, crashing on the couch?" Drake murmured from behind an empty tumbler. His breath smelled of whiskey vapor and chocolate chips. Only three drinks in and he was sleepy. After taking the gla.s.s from his limp hand and setting it down on the coffee table, I dropped a folded blanket on his lap.

"It's been a long day, Drake. Just crash here. We'll figure out what to do tomorrow."

"I already told you, I can't stay...'member?"

"Yeah, you've said that twice tonight already. Just get some sleep, we'll figure things out later."

Before shutting off all the lights and locking the front door, I picked his shoes up, set them under the coffee table, and put his gla.s.s into the sink. The place felt so familiar but also foreign. Connor wasn't there. Kris wasn't there. Zoey wasn't there. My body ached and as I used the wooden banister to pull myself upstairs, I was already unb.u.t.toning my jeans in antic.i.p.ation of the longest bath possible. With one foot on the top landing and the other in mid-step, I froze.

"I think I'm out of bubble bath."

The shampoo bubbles didn't last nearly long enough and after adding warm water twice, I got tired of listening to the gurgling noise of the overflow every time the water sloshed above the drain lever. p.i.s.sed off and exhausted, I kicked my way out of the tub leaving the bathmat soaked, and toweled off roughly over the parts of my body that weren't st.i.tched, gently patting the areas that were, leaving my hair stringy and dripping onto the floor as I padded over to the dresser. If Win was there he would have chastised me for bathing with fresh st.i.tches, but there was no way I was going to bed without soaking my sore muscles.

Ignoring the blip-blip-blip sound of water falling onto the carpet I pulled out a clean pair of everything and sifted around in the lowest drawer that Connor used for his sleep shirts. Rubbing the towel against my head once more, I untangled most of the knots from my hair with my fingers and twisted the whole mess back into a high bun. The reflection in the mirror said I looked to be thirty-something but the aches in my body, the swelling in my joints and every torn muscle laughed. I felt more like ninety.

The bed was large and familiar but unwelcoming. Not ready to climb beneath the cool covers alone, there was nothing else to do than go back downstairs and pour white wine into the largest drinking container available. Halfway down the steps there was a commotion in the living room. A heavy item slammed against a wall, there was a squeal then a shout, something fragile shattered onto the ground, someone cursed but a dog bark boomed loudest of all.

"Zoey!" I screamed from the stairs, leaping over the last step and sliding a good twelve inches in my socked feet along the slick wood at the base of the stairs.

Though the lower level of the cabin was still dark, I could see her small form shoot across the living room. Her excited whimpers matched my cries as she jumped and wriggled and licked while I pet and hugged and kissed.

"Riley!" There was that squeal again. But by then I recognized it.

Someone tripped over a table and Drake's baritone voice cracked as he shouted, "Get the h.e.l.l off me, man!"

"It's okay, he's with me!"

A light flickered on from the corner where the floor lamp rested on its side. Two end tables and the ceramic lamp near the front door had been knocked over. Shiny orange shards lay scattered out toward the sofa where several sets of shoulders protruded. Kris stood in the center of the room, her hands held up to her face in shock. A baby-like cry came from her before she ran into my arms, knocking the breath out of me.

"I-I can't believe it, you're okay." My hand shook against the back of her head, mimicking the waver in my voice. She smelled of sweet pea and pears - her favorite body wash.

Kris cried into my shoulder. It was an ugly, gut-wrenching cry that hurt my heart. "We thought you were dead, you looked dead," she sobbed.

So. They did leave me behind. Suddenly my mouth was parched, sucked entirely dry of moisture. It took two attempts to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. "I'm fine. Look," I gently tilted her chin up with one finger, "I'm fine. Are you guys okay?"

Kris nodded, refusing to let go. For a moment, it was just the two of us in the room. And then Drake's voice bellowed out from the floor beneath a pile of struggling bodies.

"Guys! Guys, stop, he's with me!" Kris kept her arms wrapped around my waist even while I crossed the room and leaned over the side of the couch where Jacks, Skip and Winchester fought to keep Drake pinned to the ground.

"Jesus!" he yelled as the three men slowly clamored off the couch where he had fallen asleep.

"Sorry, are you okay? Drake?"

"f.u.c.king peachy," he rubbed at his shoulder before standing up, "Your friends here really know how to introduce themselves. Could have given me a heart attack, jumping on me in my sleep like that. d.a.m.n."

Jacks glowered at him with his feet spread wide apart, his hands held stiffly at his sides. He looked like he wanted to rip Drake limb from limb.

Skip broke the awkward silence first, "It's d.a.m.n good to see you kiddo." We hugged tightly before Winchester squirmed between us and lifted me off my feet.

"Riley, I'm so happy you're home!" he said before setting me down and kissing my cheek. It was so out of character for him that I almost wiped the kiss away like I had seen him do so many times before.

"Jacks," I said softly, rounding the corner of the couch to put myself between him and the equaling unimpressed Drake. The two stood close to the same height and though Jacks had wider shoulders, which made him appear larger, I knew he couldn't compete with the sheer power of Drake's muscular build. "Jacks, this is Drake. Be nice to him, he saved my life."