Falling for Grace (Four Winds) (10 page)

An incredible wrenching noise sounded above them, on the other side of the cushion, their only protection, and a weight fell on his back.  He didn't move, though.  He stayed in position, braced on his elbows and knees, holding Grace, protecting her.  God only knew what was happening to their house, outside of this tiny little fortress.

Grace let out a soft squeal and began to shudder uncontrollably, while Rafe made quiet shushing noises into the top of her head, pouring his energy into her.

"Talk to me, Rafe."  Her voice was shaky and little more than a pleading whimper.  He could feel her heart pounding against his chest.

"What do you want me to talk about?" 

"Anything.  What kind of name is Rafe?"

He chuckled softly.  "It's short for Rafael.  Are we really going to talk about this in a bathtub?"  He realized she probably needed something to get her mind off the tornado on top of them.

"Yes. We are."  Her shaking eased somewhat.  "You don't look like a Rafael."

"Yeah, well…"

"Where are you from?  Originally?"

The question surprised him.  "What do you mean?"

The tornado had passed, evidenced by the lack of shrieking in the air above them.  But he could still hear wind and rain.

"What language did you speak that night at the club?  To that guy?"

Rafe couldn't tell her.  What would she say when she found out it was Aramaic?  A dead language?  That nobody had spoken in almost two thousand years?

She continued.  "Is your family Italian or something?"

"Um, I think we need to get out of here."  He raised up, onto his elbows, and looked down at her.  His eyes could see in the darkness, and what he saw took his breath away. 

She was huddled in the bottom of the tub, still clutching his shoulders, as if unwilling to let go of him.  Her blond hair was a mess, flowing all over the bottom of the tub, and her eyes were wide with fear, unseeing in the darkness.  He didn't want to leave.

"It's not safe here anymore.  We've got to find a shelter."

Her hands tightened on his shoulders, and he could feel the weight of something shift on his back, on top of the cushion.  "I've got to get up, Grace.  It'll be okay.  I'll keep you safe."

He rose up, lifting the cushion and whatever was on top of it.  Grace's eyes squinted at the sudden light, although the rain and clouds above them didn't let much light in.  Rain?  Clouds?  Rafe had to look again, before it registered with him that the roof was gone. 

"Yup.  We definitely need to get out of here."  He grabbed her hand and lifted her up to stand next to him.  He looked around the bathroom, and saw destruction, knowing that the rest of the house would be the same.

Water was pooled everywhere.  The sink was ripped out of the wall, the floor was littered with debris, and a four by four ceiling joist had fallen on top of the bathtub.  Without a doubt, if Rafe hadn't used the cushion for shelter, one or both of them could have been injured by the joist.  Or dead.

"The house isn't stable, Grace.  The hurricane hasn't even arrived, yet.  We've got to get to a shelter."  Raindrops fell lazily on their heads as he tried to get Grace moving. It had let up a little, but he knew the worst was still to come.

Her eyes scared him.  They had a glaze to them that he didn't like.  "Are you okay?"  Rafe bent over to look at her directly, his face inches away from hers.  The wide blue pools were filled with fear and uncertainty, as raindrops fell down her face.  He gathered her into his arms and tried to impart a healing sense of safety to her body, crushed against his.  "It'll be okay.  We just have to get out of here."  He felt her nod weakly against his chest, and he dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head.  "Come on." 

Grabbing her hand, he led her into the living room, which had been demolished by the tornado.  Standing Grace against a wall, Rafe quickly ran around the room, gathering supplies.  He grabbed a trash bag out of the kitchen, then ducked into her bedroom, then his, and came back with a backpack that he began filling with things from his pile.  He pulled the rope out and began tying it around his waist, then hers.

"We're going to need to walk somewhere, and we can't get separated," he explained.

Grace took a deep, shuddering breath and exhaled heavily.  "Okay."  As if gathering her wits, she continued.  "There should be a Red Cross shelter set up in the school, a couple of blocks that way."  She pointed with her left hand and then dropped it, as if suddenly too weak to hold it up.

Rafe realized that she must be exhausted.  She had already saved a life today and then survived a tornado.  He had to take care of her through the rest of this storm.  And it was getting dangerous.  Quickly.  He looked up at the gray sky, to see clouds swirling above them.  He shuddered, noting the un-naturalness of seeing the sky while standing in a living room.  He muttered a plea to the Boss under his breath.

Shouldering the back pack, then testing the knots on the rope, he grabbed her hand and led her outside.

The wind was fierce, and rain began
coming down in sheets.  Either the rain was coming too fast for the island's drainage system to keep up, or the storm surge had already breached the nineteen-foot sea wall.  It didn't matter.  The water in the street was already up to their knees, making the use of her truck impossible.  The water would only rise, flooding the truck, possibly carrying it off with them inside.  Safer to walk and take their chances with debris.

Debris was the biggest danger.  High winds ripped structures apart, and flooding waters carried the pieces.  Grace was fighting the knee-deep water rushing around them, as well as the winds, whipping her braid around.  He realized that this would be slow going if they both had to struggle against the current.  Rafe scooped Grace up into his arms, reveling in her softness against his body.

"I can walk, Rafe," she protested.

"And I can carry you.  Save your strength, you'll probably need it."   A surge of protectiveness mixed with fear filled Rafe, but he didn't dwell on the emotion.  This was something he would have done anyway, as part of his duty.  But doing it for Grace made it different somehow.  He had a personal stake in her, and it made the emotions so damn strong.  He had to keep her safe, and getting to shelter as quickly as possible became his number one priority.

The water was rising, and the current was swift.  Rafe's strength was flagging for some reason, so when he felt a sharp pain in his calf, he had to put Grace down.  She struggled briefly for balance, then watched him silently, concern filling her face, as he felt under the water until he found what had caused his problem.

A sharp piece of metal impaled his calf.  Not sure how his corporeal body would react to being injured, he panicked a little before realizing that wouldn't help the situation at all.  He smiled encouragingly to Grace.

"Looks like you'll be walking the rest of the way." 

Her voice filled with panic.  "What's wrong?  What happened?"

"Just a little splinter.  I'll be okay, but we need to get out of this."  He grabbed her hand, and continued leading her to shelter.  He was bleeding, though he couldn't tell how badly, and the pain was intense.  He'd never felt pain before, but this blinding heat that made him nauseated and caused his vision to go black around the edges, had to be what was called pain.  Rafe decided he didn't much care for it.

They kept fighting the rapids that had risen to their waist, as they made their way slowly to the shelter.  Rafe could see the school at the end of the next block, when his vision started to fade.

"Grace."  He led them to the center of the street, where the current wasn't as strong.  "I think I've lost a bit of blood."

Her hands rushed to his face, fingertips fluttering over his cheeks.  It felt so good.  "Rafe, hang on."  His weakness was dispelling her fear, apparently.  Her instincts were taking over.  That was good.  It looked like he was going to need them.  Pouring that energy into her in the bathtub had been good for her.  But apparently, bad for him…

  His head felt funny, weightless.  And his body felt heavy.  "I don't know what's happening to me."  His voice sounded strange, far away.  Then all he knew was darkness and cold.

Grace was immediately glad that Rafe had the forethought to tie them together.  As he passed out, his body sank into the current and he started to float away.  She grabbed him in the lifeguard hold and started dragging his body towards the school.

"Stay with me, Rafe.  I don't know what kind of ‘splinter’ you have, but we're going to get you to safety.  Just hang on."  She kept uttering words of encouragement, as she slowly made her way down the block in the steadily rising water, dodging the floating debris.

Something hit her head, scraping across her face painfully, and she realized it was a shingle attached to a piece of wood.  Shaking her head to clear it, she kept going.  She had to get to the school.

The green haze was back.  She didn't know where it had been, hadn't quite missed it, but with Rafe around, she hadn't felt like she'd needed it.

"That's my girl…" The voice inside her head was Rafe's.  She wasn't sure if that was her imagination or not, but she knew that whatever it was, it was helping her to help him, and she appreciated it.  "Good job, Grace."  Reassured by the voice, she continued trudging through the current to the school.

Chapter Twelve

The water had seemed to level out, but Grace knew that she couldn't count on it to stay that way for long.  Squinting against the rain pelting her face, she dragged Rafe through the open door.  The water had rushed inside, and a man stood on the stairs to her right.

"Injured?"  He asked her briskly, motioning to Rafe, who was still unconscious.

"Yes, I believe something is stuck in his leg.  I haven't seen it, yet.  We've been underwater."

"Well, I'm glad y'all made it.  Come on."  He helped Grace get Rafe onto the stairs and out of the water.  When she saw his leg, she gasped.

"Oh, Rafe…"  Tears welled in her eyes at the jagged piece of metal that had turned his calf into hamburger meat. 

"We've got a surgeon in a make-shift trauma center upstairs.  I don't think he's busy at the moment.  Let me get a stretcher and some help.  We'll get him taken care of."  The man disappeared up the stairs, leaving Grace alone with Rafe.

The first thing Grace did, was rip her sweatshirt off, and pressed the cleanest part of it to his wound, applying as much pressure as she dared.  She lowered herself a step, so that she was even with his face.  "I don't know if you can hear me, but we're going to get you fixed up, okay?"  She wiped a tear from her cheek.  "This isn't life-threatening, Rafe.  You just have to stay with me, okay?"

His face was ashy, and Grace didn't like it.  He'd lost a lot of blood, though exactly how much was hard to tell.  They had to get this piece of metal out and stop the bleeding somehow.  She looked at him, hard.  His brow was wrinkled, as if in confusion, and his mouth was turned down in a frown, causing his features to sharpen.  He still looked so…otherworldly, so perfect, even in pain.

"I'm so sorry if it hurts.  You should have gotten out of town with the rest, Rafe."

The green haze in her head deepened at her words, and the voice in her head came back.  Rafe's voice.  "It'll be okay, Grace.  You have done everything right."  The comfort of her subconscious called to her, and she relaxed into it.  Rafe's brow seemed to smooth a little, and Grace caressed it with her fingers, tracing the lines of his face.  His nose.  His mouth.