The silence is deafening save the bubbling of the brook that I'm standing in. I pay little attention to the cold water that squishes between my feet and the soles of my shoes. My eyes have now adjusted to the dark and I can make out partial traces of pathways and trees in the distance. I scan slowly from left to right with only my eyes to see if I can see Donna. But then, I hear a crack.
Without hesitating, I kneel where I'm standing. I step into the bubbling current to help mask the sound of my footsteps as I move backwards downstream towards deeper shadows and a better vantage point.
I take great caution to breathe ever so shallowly as the cool night air might show my breath.
Another crack.
I wait silently in the dark shadows, praying that the cracking sound is simply Donna returning. I take slight comfort in the fact that I did not hear Donna scream -- and so I allow faith and hope to seep back into my heart as I wait to see who or what will appear from the shadows.
A moment later, I breath a sigh of relief.
It's Jim.
He does not make a sound, which lets me know that the danger is still very real -- but seeing Jim has given my tortured psyche new strength. I wait a moment or two to see which direction he is headed before quietly making my way towards him.
I wait to reveal myself in the moonlight so as not to frighten him. He immediately signals for me to be silent; and so I point the way back to the cave across the brook. He nods. Visibility is still rather dim, but I notice that Jim has a torn sleeve and either blood or mud splashed on his face. We strut forward one silent footstep at a time; painstakingly making sure that no twig cracks beneath our feet. When we reach the brook I motion for him to cross using the area where I was moments earlier. He nods, but then immediately stops me from stepping forward.
He's heard something.
I stand there in silence, allowing only the sound of my rampant heart to dissipate into the cool dark night. We stand for what feels like almost an hour. Neither of us moving. My left leg begins to cramp but I try my best to distract myself with other more pressing thoughts -- like how long before the sun awakes.
For a moment, I allow my weary mind to drift towards anger and frustration at Donna. I'm hoping that when it is safe to speak, Jim will have some answers. For now, we remain statue-like in the cool dark night, with minimal protection, awaiting salvation or certain destruction -- whichever comes first. Any moment now, the sun's rays are due to peek over the horizon; innevitably melting away our blanket of darkness -- and exposing us to the grim reality that every fearful shallow breath could be our last.
