Rekindled (39 page)

“B-but she was on birth control…”

“Yeah, but you know what? All those pills can really start to look the same if you’re not careful.”

I stagger backward, my head reeling from his admission. “You’re fucking sick, you know that? Her parents disowned her for getting pregnant!”

He shrugs. “Family’s overrated anyways. I mean, take my son, for example. I showed up to surprise him and take him on a trip, and what’s he go and do? Cries the entire way about wanting his
mom
. I haven’t seen the kid in three months, and he doesn’t even want to spend time with me. Even my son thinks I’m a disappointment. And after everything I’ve done for him. Ungrateful little shit. Gets what he deserves.”

Fury rolls up my spine and bubbles out of me. Grabbing him by the throat, I slam him against the tree trunk. “I swear to fucking god, Zach, if you’ve hurt Jonah… if you’ve so much as laid a finger on him, I will kill you.”

He lets out a garbled laugh. “Relax, Superman. He’s fine. At least, he was the last time I saw him.”

“What do you mean the last time you saw him?”

“Kid wouldn’t shut up about wanting his mom. Said he was going to run back home.”

Releasing my hold on Zach, I rake my hands over my face. “You let your six-year old son wander off alone in the middle of the woods?” I glance over at Matt who’s standing next to me wide-eyed. “He could be anywhere by now!”

“He’ll be back. Kid’s gotta learn to respect me.”

“He’s
six!
” Kneeling down, I shove my index finger into his side, watching him howl in pain. “Which way did he go?” When he doesn’t answer, I push harder. “
Which way?
”

“Tate,” Matt cuts in, grabbing my wrist and yanking me from Zach. “You’re going to kill him if you keep doing that.”

“Good.”

“Ramon and Chris are on their way over to help me carry him to the landing spot to be lifted out. I’m sure the police will get him to talk.”

I shake my head vehemently. “I can’t wait that long.” I need to get him to talk. I need a clue to which way Jonah went. The forest is over two-hundred acres, and while he’s small and likely can’t have covered much ground in a few hours, I’m terrified thinking about him out here in the wilderness alone.

Think Tate.

“It’s not too late, you know,” I say, facing Zach.

A sick smile plays at the corner of his lips. “Too late for what?”

“To be Jonah’s hero. You can still save him. Tell me which way he went, Zach, and I’ll make sure he knows it was you who saved him. You won’t be a disappointment to your son. You’ll be his
hero.
”

Zach closes his eyes and I hold my breath, praying with everything I have in me that he’ll take the bait. It’s the only way for me to save Jonah. Ramon and Chris are calling out to us, but I keep my focus pinned on Zach, challenging him to do the right thing. I don’t know whether he was always this unhinged, but I have to believe that somewhere deep down, he doesn’t want any harm to come to Jonah. It’s the only way. He watches me, not saying a word as Ramon and Chris lift him, cradling him so they can take him to be flown out to the hospital. I follow silently behind, knowing I only have a few more minutes before it’ll be too late. Finally, Zach lifts a finger and points.

I breathe a sigh of relief that I have place to start looking, but just as I turn around, my heart plummets in my chest. He’s pointing in the direction of the fire. Jonah’s all alone and the fire is coming right toward him.

“How do we know he’s even telling the truth?” Matt asks as we took off into a sprint.

“We don’t, but it’s the only shot I’ve got.”

We run wide, hoping to be able to get around the fire, although at this point, I’d run through the damn blaze if I knew for sure Jonah would be on the other side. Wind whips around us and sweat pours down my face. Chancing a sideways glance, I can see the wall of flames marching forward, devouring everything it touches. Thick tendrils of smoke twist together like cotton candy, and what sounds like grenades exploding rings out in the air as pine cones and branches detonate in the heat.

As if reading my thoughts, Matt stops and shakes his head, grey ashes flaking off his ginger-colored hair.

“We need to split up,” he says. “Go north, I’ve got south.” He tosses me a radio and breaks away, disappearing into the smoke.

Yanking my water bottle from my pack, I gulp down a quarter of the contents, saving the rest despite the burning in my throat demanding more. I need to save the rest for if I find Jonah. No. Not if. When. When I find Jonah. My voice becomes ragged as I scream out his name, hoping by some miracle he’ll hear me.
Think, Tate.
Where would a six-year old go? He’d need water. But how would he know where to find water? I know the river is at least a mile from here, but there’s no way Jonah would know that.

“You find anything?” I ask through the radio.

“Not yet,” Matt replies. “But we’ll find him.” His words are meant to reassure me, but the quiver in his voice betrays him. “What does he like? Maybe that’ll help me figure out where to look.”

“Normal kid stuff. Video games, comic books, cartoons.”

“Okay, give me a second, let me think. Is there anything he might have seen on TV or a movie that would help?”

I scroll through my time spent with him, pulling each memory like a rolodex card. Seeing his toothy little smile when he said the word asshole, watching the awe on his face as he looked over my tattoos, taking turns playing his Gameboy, hearing him laugh when he looked at old photos of Callie. My heart constricts with each memory. Playing Spiderman with him.
Hang on. Of course. Spiderman.

Snapping my fingers, I grip the radio tight. “Hang on a second, Matt. I think I have an idea where he might have gone.”

My heartrate speeds up as I stare at a large rock formation off to the side. Of course. How did I not think of it sooner? I don’t know what a six-year old would do in this situation, but I have a pretty good idea what a six-year old thinking like Spiderman, his idol, would do. He loved heights, used them to take advantage of a situation.

Breaking into a sprint, I reach the rocks completely winded. “Jonah! Jonah can you hear me?” I rip my helmet off and begin climbing. “Jonah! Buddy, are you here?”

My whole body shakes as I round the top of the rocks, letting out a choked cry when I see Jonah’s little body curled protectively into a ball. Scrambling toward him, I throw off my pack and carefully brush his hair to the side. His lips are chapped and bleeding, and his skin looks a sickly pale color. When his eyes slowly blink open, he tries to sit up, but I wrap my arms around him and lift him onto my lap.

“Tate? How’d you find me?”

Keeping to my word, I respond, “Your dad told me where to look.”

“I just want to go home,” he cries.

“I know, bud. I’m going to get you home, okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

He shakes his head. “My tummy is hungry and thirsty, though.”

I grab my pack and pull out the bottle of water and a protein bar, holding him as he drinks the entire bottle and gobbles down the bar. I take a minute to examine him and make sure he’s not injured, and while he’s clearly dehydrated and quite shaken up, he doesn’t appear to be hurt anywhere.
Thank God.
I take a minute to rein in my emotions before speaking into the radio.

“Guys, I found him. I have Jonah. We’re heading back your way.”

“Oh thank god,” Matt says.

“Be careful,” another voice calls over the radio. “Wind’s picked up and she’s out for blood.”

“Ten-Four. See you soon,” I say. Turning to Jonah, I wrap my arms around him and lift him up. “Okay, bud let’s get you outta here.”

I hand him my bandanna to put over his nose and mouth, worried he’s already inhaled too much smoke. I’m slower than I’d like with Jonah in my arms, but I ignore the burn in my muscles and push forward, knowing it’s us against nature. Wind whips around us in a furious beat, and I can feel the heat of the fire pressing to our side. The boys were right. Mother Nature’s a fickle bitch and looks like the wind changed her mind. Instead of pushing the fire
past
us, she’s coming right
for
us. Jonah’s little arms cling around my neck as he buries his face into my shoulder, and I press on, doing my best to keep us ahead of the bright orange flames lunging in our direction.

“Tell me the good news,” a voice calls out over the radio. “Tell me you’re almost here.”

I want to respond, but I don’t have time. No time to talk. Barely enough time to think. Margin of error is zero. One wrong step, one wrong decision means we go down in flames. But I’ve made it this far, and there’s no way in hell I’m giving up now. A cacophony of explosions fills the air as the fire rolls over trees and shrubs, and I leap out of the way when a burning branch comes lumbering down. Heat sears into my back and I make it three more steps before I know I won’t be able to outrun it.

Setting Jonah down, I grab my pack and quickly shake out my fire shelter. These aren’t meant for two people, but I’m going to have to try to make it work.

“Okay, Jonah, I’m going to need you to listen and do exactly as I say, alright?” I unfold the shelter, and quickly dig a hole in the dirt for our faces. “Keep your bandanna on at all times, okay?” He nods with wide-eyes filled with fear. “It’s going to be okay.” I pull out my radio and quickly spout off our location to the guys, letting them know we’re buckling down in the fire shelter.

I pull the material over my body and help Jonah lie down before following. Heat blazes all around us, and the wind wails like a banshee as she tries to relentlessly rip our shelter away from us. My arms shake from the strain of trying to pin the shelter down while also trying not to crush Jonah with the weight of my body. I want to reassure him. I want to tell him to think happy thoughts. To think of his mom and his uncle. To think of the lake and giant ice cream cones dripping with chocolate. I want to tell him that I love him. That even though he’s not my blood, he is still my son. But I can’t because one breath of the gases that are swarming around us will be enough to poison me. And so I make a quiet vow, that if we make it out of this alive, I will spend every day for the rest of my life making sure to let Jonah know how much I love him.

“Hang in there, Tate,” a voice says through the radio. “We’re here, heading her off. We’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

A wave of heat washes over us, and pain sears into my back as the material bores down on top of me. I squeeze my eyes shut, picturing Rylee’s face.
Keep us safe, Ry-bear
. Images of her in heaven, looking down on us while eating a damn creamsicle bar with sticky fingers comes to mind, her big brown doe-eyes lit with love, and I instantly smile. I miss her so damn much, but I don’t believe that this world is the be-all-end-all of existence. I’m not sure whether there’s a God, or an afterlife, but I like to believe there is. I like to believe that those who are taken from us too soon are never really gone, and that when all is said and done, we’ll be reunited at the end.

My breaths become shallow as thin strands of smoke seep into our space, and I shove my face further into the soil, trying not to dry heave from the fumes. My head begins to spin and my vision blurs. I’m going to pass out.
No. Stay awake.
Temperatures rise to impossible degrees and my throat constricts with the heat. I feel like I’m swallowing cotton.