Wildwood

9. Lucky

LuckyThe light is crushing. I can’t breathe, can’t move. The direction of the pressure changes instantaneously, and the ground beneath me shoves me airborne. The blanket of white fades to gray and then to black, and I am weightless. I inhale a deep breath. The ringing in my ears dissipates, and is replaced with complete and utter silence. The moment I realize I’m floating, I begin to plummet. The darkness whizzes by. I gasp, and fling my arms out to my side, trying to slow my fall. Red earth appears, racing toward me. I’m going to hit it. I’m going to die.

Contact jolts through me, but I feel no pain. I don’t feel anything at all. I climb to my feet, which are bare, and shield my eyes with my hands so I can see into the distance. The rust colored desert touches every inch of the horizon, met by a sapphire blue sky. The world around me is as quiet as an empty sanctuary. I've never been here. I know I haven't. But I have been here. I have…

Gray washes over my vision, and a cacophony of voices floods my brain, shattering the peace. I clench my teeth against the noise and clamp my hands over my ears.

"No," I whisper. "Go away."

Several faces whirl in the sky above me. Shadows lurk behind them. Fear explodes inside of me. I burst into a sprint. The faces loom closer, and the shadows grow. I change direction, but the shadows are faster. They flood the sky, eclipsing the faces that spin faster by the second. There's nowhere to go.

Movement in the distance catches my attention. It's dark and shimmering, distorted by the heat. They're coming for me. I spin and run. A white light appears on the horizon ahead, as if a colorless sun is rising. There. I need to go there. My arms and legs pump as fast as I can make them, but everything feels slow and heavy. The ground has become soft, nearly too soft to run across.

"Wait," a voice says, clear and close. I turn, panting. Lucas stands behind me, his image blurring as if he’s a heat-induced mirage.

"Where am I? Why are you here?" I ask. My voice echoes between us. Lucas studies me.

“Do you know who you are?” he asks. Before I can answer, the roar of voices overhead intensify, and words emerge from the noise.

“We’re losing her again.” I hear. My stare snaps toward the sky.

“Get the crash cart,” a male voice calls from farther away. A searing white circle of light appears inches from my face. I shut my eyes, exhausted and overwhelmed. Searing heat begins in my heart and spreads outward. The sensation surges through my limbs. What's happening to me?

"Make it stop!" I scream. Lucas takes my hand in his. I nearly yank it away, but the pain vanishes everywhere his skin touches mine. My palm is the only piece of me that doesn't feel like it's on fire.

“Charge to two hundred,” another voice batters against my brain.

“Leave me alone!” I hear myself scream again.

“It’s okay, Tanzy. It’s time for Spera to return,” Lucas reassures me, his mouth so close to my ear that his lips brush my skin. Spera. The name whispers through me, and a face blooms clear and vivid in my mind's eye: brown skin, a tangle of black hair, bright, gold, angry eyes. Her lips pull back in a smile. Then she bares her teeth, her face elongates, her ears sharper, and shiny black hair begins to cover her skin. My heart races. I've seen this before.

“Clear!” a voice booms. A bolt of lightning screams down from the blue sky and strikes the ground inches from my feet. Lucas turns his dark eyes to mine and squeezes my fingers in his big hand.

“Be seeing you,” he whispers.

Instantly I am flying, falling upwards into a sinking black. The total void liquefies, pressing on my skin, filling my mouth. I can't spit it out. It swells in my throat, choking me. I try to reach inside my mouth but my hand won’t budge. The sound of gagging reaches my ears, and the sensation of floating begins to subside.

You’re dreaming. Open your eyes. They won’t open, glued together by whatever sticky substance I’m covered in. Behind my eyelids, my eyes begin to burn as desperate tears pool across their surfaces.

Wake up!

The weight dissipates along with the darkness. Sensations come back one by one. All of them hurt.

Someone is touching my hand. I curl and flex my fingers, uncertainty passing through me. Where am I? Dana’s sing-song voice floats into my ears. Please be real. I latch onto it, and use it to swim all the way into consciousness.

My eyelids flutter as I work to make them stay open Dana's face, drawn and pensive, comes into briefly focus. I draw in a breath. The air moving down my throat and into my lungs feels like it’s splintering my ribcage.

“Dana?” I rasp curiously. My entire body throbs with pain and pressure. Tears threaten to spill from eyes.

“You’re awake!” she says.

Awake… I was dreaming. Just dreaming…. Then why do I hurt so much? Why does Dana sound like she’s talking to me from the other end of a long tunnel? I try to sit up, but my body doesn’t respond. Images of a storm bend and blur in my mind, receding each time I try to focus. The sounds of a galloping horse and rumbles of thunder echo in my skull. Nausea churns in my stomach.

“I don’t feel so good,” I mutter. “Something… I think something’s wrong.”

“Shh,” Dana says. “Just breathe.”

I inhale a long, slow breath through my nose. The grayish room comes into focus behind her. Florescent lighting paints my surroundings sickly yellow. There’s a rectangular pattern of natural light beaming across the end of my bed, indicating a window behind me. Dana’s sitting in a worn blue chair. There’s a clock on the wall behind her. The second hand makes a ticking sound with every second, which reverberates in my skull, making my teeth ache.

"Where are we?" My mind spins with confusion.

“We’re in the hospital.”

My eyes move from Dana to my body. My left leg is in a cast. I raise a hand to my throbbing head. Gauze covers most of my scalp. Pain shoots up my left side every time I move. I wince, curling away from the pressure.

Dana leans in. She reaches across my face and tucks a wayward lock of my hair behind my ears. A green semi-circle, the size of a marble, glows in the palm of her hand. The color looks alive, like she’s caught a lightning bug. I press myself away from her hand as it passes within inches of my face. Up close I can see the glow resembles the shape of a horseshoe.

"There’s something on your hand,” I say. My tongue is dry and sticky, and my voice sounds garbled in my ears. She frowns, turning both hands palm-side up, and stares down at them.

“I don’t see anything,” she says, and then faces them to me.

“It’s right there….” I trail off as I nod my chin towards her hands.

“There’s nothing there, Tanzy.” She rests her hands palm-down on her knees. I stare at them, waiting for the glow to peek out from under her hands, but nothing happens.

“It’s gone now,” I lie.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” She tries to smile. Her face is heavy. There are purple half-moons under her eyes. I’ve never seen her look so tired.

“What happened to me?” I try to think back to the moments immediately prior to hearing Dana's voice. I'd dreamed something so vivid. All I can recall is a blue sky. And before the dream… my mind is dark and vacuous.

You… you were either struck by lightning or it struck near enough to a strike that you that you were electrocuted.”

I suck in a breath, reliving the moment the night sky turned white. A shiver takes root deep within me, the chill spreading outward, and even though I’m covered with two blankets, I’m suddenly freezing.

“I’m not your mom, but riding at night in the woods in the storm of the century with no helmet on a horse with no tack? Have you lost your mind? I know you just woke up but it’s all I’ve been thinking for days. You could be dead, Tanzy.” She squeezes my arm.

“Harbor got loose. I chased her into the pasture.” I struggle to remember more.

“Why did you get on her?” Dana presses.

“There was something in the woods,” I whisper, staring into space as the cat’s face comes into razor sharp focus. “Two of them. They looked like mountain lions, but were probably double the size and black. It was like a nightmare."

“We haven’t seen many cougars in the valley this fall yet, but it doesn’t mean they’re not out there. It’s weird they would be out in a storm though. It’s weird that you were out at all. You picked a hell of a moment to make a comeback.”

“Mom and I fought. I just needed some space. I drove to Wildwood. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Lucas said you seemed upset.”

“Lucas…” The name rings familiar in my mind, but I can’t remember why.

“He started working for me at the beginning of the year. He saw the storm on the radar and went to check the horses. He’s a good hire. Your dad would’ve liked him.” Dana’s voice sounds far away.

“He was there. Harbor liked him,” I murmur. The exchange comes back in bits and pieces, ending with the moment I saw him standing in front of the barn. “Lightning was striking all around. I saw it hit the barn…” I lock eyes with Dana, and my heart begins to race. “Lightning struck the barn.” Dana’s chin trembles, and her eyes brim with tears.

“Wildwood is gone,” she whispers.

“The horses?” I can barely get out the words.

“They’re all gone, Tanzy,” she begins to quietly sob.

“No.” I shake my head and my insides quake. “No.” Wildwood is all that’s left of my father. It’s a living memorial, a testament to what he achieved with own hands, what he stood for. He’d touched every wall, walked every inch. Every horse knew him on sight. How could it all be gone?

“I didn’t want to tell you so soon,” Dana looks away from me to wipe her face. “The barn went up so fast. They haven’t even found any remains.”

“What about Harbor?” My voice shakes. So do my hands.

“We’ve searched everywhere, but we haven’t found a trace of her. There’s a possibility she’s so scared that she won’t come near the smell of the fire. I’m leaving out feed and hay in the pasture every day just in case. The cats you saw may have chased her across the river, and now she won’t come back across.”

“Mom said it should’ve been me in the river,” I sputter. “That’s why I came to Wildwood. That’s why this happened. That’s why all of this happened.”

“Tanzy, lightning would’ve struck the barn whether you’d come or not. If Harbor is still alive, it’s because you came. Lucas, too. If he hadn’t gone after you, he might’ve been in the barn asleep in my office.” Dana shudders.

“That storm was different, Dana. It was… angry.”

“Have you ever seen a storm that wasn’t?” She gives me a teary smile.

“How’s Mom?” I ask, and guilt washes over me. She warned me to never go to Wildwood, to not ride. Could the psychic have seen this coming? I shove the thoughts aside. The only thing that psychic saw was an easy target.

“We haven’t been able to reach her yet,” she answers quietly. “We’ve tried, Tanzy. I called about a hundred times in the first twenty four hours after the fire. I’ve been by your house every day. I’ve dropped off dinner on your front porch every night, I swear. I even asked your neighbors, but they haven’t seen her.”

“She probably just isn’t answering the door or the phone.” I sink into the flimsy mattress, worried. Has she been eating?

“I’ll go tonight on my way home. Lucas has tried to check on her, too. I think he feels responsible for what happened,” Dana adds.

“It wasn’t his fault. I left Harbor’s door open. I chased her into the pasture.”

“He thinks he upset you by being there, and it’s why Harbor got out in the first place.”

“But if she hadn’t…” I murmur.

“If she hadn’t,” Dana echoes.

“How did he get those scars? I didn’t want to ask.”

“What scars?” Dana knits her brow.

“The big ones on his face, and there are a bunch all over his hands. They’re pretty hard to miss.”

“Lucas doesn’t have any scars that I’ve seen.”

“I swear…” I trail off, questioning my memory of both times I’ve seen him.

“I’m sure he’ll be by soon to visit. He’s been in once a day since the fire.” She points across the room to a little sink area, which is lined with vases of wild flowers.

“Those are from him?”

“Like I said, he blames himself.”

“He shouldn’t.” I close my eyes and lean back. I want to look at the flowers, to breathe them in, but they remind me of Dad, which reminds me of Mom, the river, the storm, the fire, the fact that I see things no one else does. It all comes circling back to that moment on the ridge, where I looked out at the big, clear valley and wanted to see something in it.

“Don’t go to sleep yet. I need to tell the doctor you’re awake, and he won’t believe me if you’re out again when he comes in. I’ll be right back,” Dana whispers.

I open my eyes in time to see her almost collide with Lucas, whose standing in the doorway with a jar of flowers in his hands.

“She’s awake,” Dana says, and glances at me over her shoulder on her way out the door. Color touches Lucas’s face, and he stares down at the flowers.

My gaze lifts to his cheek. It’s marble smooth. There aren’t any scars on his hands, either. I blink, confused. I know I saw scars the night of the fire, and in the parking lot at graduation. Didn’t I? I catch myself frowning as I stare at him.

“This felt way less awkward when you didn’t see me bring them,” Lucas says.

“What?”

“The flowers.”

“They’re beautiful,” I reply, catching on. “Thank you, for all of them.”

“I can throw them out. The others, too. I just, I want you to be okay. So I keep bringing you things.” His jaw shifts beneath his cheek.

“No, leave them. It’s nice to have something fresh in here.”

Lucas smiles and moves into the room. He sets the jar down on the sink. I spy a flash of sapphire blue on his right palm. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. Why am I seeing these colors and what do they mean?

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m awake. I know who I am. I can talk. I can remember a lot of what happened… but there are pieces of what I think I remember that don’t make any sense.” I study his face.

“Like what?”

“You had scars on your cheek and on your hands.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” He turns his hands over. The blue mark in his palm flashes each time he moves. “Sorry to disappoint. Do you have a thing for scars?”

I let out a nervous laugh. “That’s… uh… that’s not why I noticed them.”

“I’m just kidding. It’s nice to hear you laugh, though.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Sorry, that was lame. I forget that you don’t know me and I feel like I already know you.”

“How’s that?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Since I started working at Wildwood, I’ve heard more stories than I can count about Travis and Tanzy Hightower. I know all about your show record, and the time your dad taught you how to drive the tractor—”

“And I ran it through the fence?” I finish for him.

“Yep. I think it’s cool they painted that section of fence a different color to commemorate the moment,” he adds. I shield my face, feeling it flush. “But no, no scars. I thought you were talking about whatever the hell those things were in the woods that chased Harbor.”

“You saw them?” I drop my hands and sit up, ignoring a burst of pain in my abdomen.

“Only when the lightning flashed. They looked huge. I wasn’t even sure they were real, and then you and Harbor took off. I didn’t mention them to Dana. I thought she’d think I’m crazy. They weren’t like anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“Way too big to be cougars,” I say, nodding.

“I thought so too. I tried to follow you, but I lost your trail. By the time I found you, they were long gone.”

“They were there when I fell.” I shudder. “The only reason I can think of that they didn’t kill me is because lightning struck so close. Did you see any sign of Harbor?”

“No. I searched every inch of that pasture. There’s a place on the west border where the fence was down in about a four foot section where a tree limb fell. The chance she found it is one in a million, but there’s still a chance.”

“Why did you come after me instead of letting the horses out?” I ask, instantly torn. What would I have done in his place? Chase a stranger into the dark or try to get out as many horses as I could?

“I saw Harbor take off and I just ran after you. I didn’t realize the barn was on fire until I reached the trees. It went up so fast, Tanzy. It’s like a bomb went off. I knew I wouldn’t have been able to get many out, if any. They weren’t even… they weren’t even screaming or kicking the walls. Aside from the pops of the flames, it was snow-quiet. It’s like they were already gone.”

My mind conjures the flames and the silence, and I close my eyes against a new wave of nausea.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas whispers.

“Tanzy, my name is Dr. Andrews. I’m the chief of surgery here,” an unfamiliar voice calls from the head of the room. I open my eyes and blink away the threat of tears. The name sends off a flare in my memory, but I can’t remember why. A tall, lean man walks toward my bed, followed by Dana. He has close-cut pepper colored hair and wire-rimmed glasses. “Welcome back. How are you feeling?”

I glance at his hands, but, save what’s probably my chart, they’re empty. I check Lucas and Dana’s hands. Their colors are still present.

“I’m seeing things.” Above the pain and the blank places in my memory, this is my foremost concern. Something inside of me is convinced if I can understand what these colors are and why I’m seeing them, so much more about the last year will make sense.

“What kinds of things?” He retrieves a tiny flash light from his lab coat pocket, clicks it on, and shines the light near my chin. “I’m going to check your pupils, okay? You keep talking.”

“I see little glowing spots on people’s hands.” I force my eyelids to stay open as he shines the light directly into my eyes.

“I’ll make a note of that. You were struck by lightning, and you had a severe concussion.” He stares over the top of the flashlight and into my eyes. “Halos, double vision, abnormalities, strange colors, those are all to be expected. What I need to know from here forward is if anything changes significantly or gets worse. All things considered, you’re incredibly lucky. You’re awake, you’re talking, and you know who you are and who your friends are. This is an amazing start—way more than I hoped for this early in the game.”

“When can I go home?” I ask. Dana peers at me from behind Dr. Anderson, and her face clouds over, filling me with trepidation.

“Well, your body has been through a lot. You lost a lot of blood from a significant puncture wound.” He points to my left side. “Luckily, whatever you fell on missed every major organ. You did require a considerable blood transfusion. We need to monitor your vitals over the next two or three days. We also need to put a hard cast on your leg, and make sure your burn is healing.

“My burn?”

“As with most lightning strike patients, you have a burn pattern from the contact and conduction. Yours is the most unique I’ve ever seen. Generally, the burns looks like trees or spider webs, and in some cases I have seen fairly straight lines. I can say with certainty this is the first time I’ve ever seen a lightning strike create a circular pattern. Here, I’ll show you.” He reaches for the front of my hospital gown. My chest is wrapped in gauze, and I wonder if it’s responsible for the pressure I’ve been experiencing. He loosens the gauze enough to pull down the front of the bandage, but the pressure remains. Three interlocking circles are branded across my sternum. They’re fiery red, with spindly red wisps feathering off of them like trails of smoke.

“Lightning did that?” I stare at the burn, mesmerized. Dr. Andrews nods.

“The only explanation I can think of is that the lightning passed directly through you on its route from ground to atmosphere, and didn’t travel elsewhere in your body. But it’s impossible to know. We haven’t seen any indication of an internal char pattern, which makes you incredibly lucky, especially with the proximity of the strike mark to your lungs and heart. My wife actually has a program for lightning strike and electrocution survivors, if you’re interested. She’s a psychiatrist. She was struck by lightning once, too. She has some unorthodox beliefs about the weather, but I’m a results man, and she’s had some remarkable outcomes with former patients. They’ve often gone on to pursue goals and dreams they never thought tangible before their injuries. I’ll have her come and talk to you.”

“Okay.” I squirm at the thought of discussing goals and dreams with anyone, much less a perfect stranger. I also can’t help wondering if she’s anything like Mom.

Dr. Andrews secures the bandage, and then turns his attention to the computer attached to the opposite wall.

“We’re going to be drawing blood quite a bit over the next forty-eight hours. You’ll also be given medication to help with the pain, and to help with any possible infections and adverse reactions to the blood transfusion. I want you to rest as much as you can, but as often as we’ll be in here, we probably won’t make it very easy.” He chuckles, and I manage a weak smile in return. Dr. Andrews stares at the screen and types for several seconds. “I will be back to check on you this evening. If anything changes, anything, call the nurse’s station and have me paged immediately. Any changes,” he reiterates, and then strolls from the room.

Lucas leans back against the counter, folding his arms against his chest. Dana slides into the chair next to my bed and wipes her hands on her jeans before propping up her chin on her fingers.

“You might look worse than I do,” I say.

“You haven’t seen a mirror, yet.” There’s lightness in her voice, but her expression is serious. I glance around the room. There aren’t any mirrors. I wonder if it’s intentional.

“Go home, Dana.”

“I can’t leave you.”

“Yes, you can. I need you to check on Mom. And to bring me real food,” I say, even though my stomach churns, and I can’t imagine eating. Dana won’t leave if I don’t give her a way to feel helpful.

“You’re hungry? That’s great,” Dana says, standing.

“I think it’s a good sign. It always is for horses.”

“You shouldn’t be alone, though,” she adds.

“You heard Dr. Andrews. They’re going to be in here a lot. And Lucas is here.” I glance at Lucas. He raises his brow, surprise lifting his expression. Dana gives me a curious look.

“Okay. Well, I’ll make sure you’re allowed to eat whatever you want, and I’ll bring you dinner.”

“What time is it?” I twist to see the window behind me, but a stabbing pain in my side stops me. Dana glances at her watch.

“Just after noon,” she says. “I’ll run by your mom’s, check in at Wildwood, stop by my house, pick up food, and come back.”

“Don’t rush. I’m not going anywhere. Take a nap or a shower or both.”

“Tanzy, you’ve taken care of yourself and your mom for so long you don’t even see when you’re the one who needs help,” Dana says quietly.

“This is how you help me.”

“Okay.” Dana points at Lucas. “If she starts acting weird at all, get a doctor.”

“I’m on it.” He salutes, and Dana walks out, casting one last glance into the room before disappearing down the hall.