Black Bear Rising: A BWWM Paranormal Romance (Black Bear Saga Book 1) (22 page)

“I’m going to head out for a walk and maybe pick up some snacks from that small market we passed on our way here. Do you want to join me?” She asked Sara and actually hoping that she would say no.

Sara wriggled on the bed like a cat in a sunbeam and said, “I’m too comfy. I might catch up with you if I don't doze off first.”

“See you later,” Lana said and left.

Once outside Lana decided to head back to the gas station and take a footpath she had seen that lead towards the sea. The town was very quiet with nobody about as she followed the foot path back out of town. The last house on the block was a cottage painted a bright blue with a red corrugated metal roof. A man in his sixties with a floppy straw hat on and pushing a manual lawn mower looked up and waved in Lana's direction as he saw her approach.

“Welcome to Vik,” he said in his melodic Icelandic accent. It sounded like the chirping of a high energy bird Lana thought to herself.

“Thank you,” Lana said stopping to admire his garden. The grass was clipped short with a large weather worn bone sitting in the middle of it. “Whats the bone from?” she asked.

“Thats a spinal bone from a whale. We were off fishing in the middle of the biggest school of mackerel I had ever witnessed and this beast of a whale breached right under my boat. The boat capsized and by the grace of God myself and my crew of five survived and managed to get back to shore.”

“What happened to the whale?” Lana asked.

“We mounted a party to go out and kill the beast. You have to remember that while its not fashionable to kill them now, this great beast had destroyed my boat and ruined any chance of me making a livelihood for the season. There was no shortage of men in town who were more than happy to join me in the hunt. Ill spare you the bloody details. This bone you see here was my trophy after we caught and killed the great beast. The strangest part of the whole thing was I never fished another day after that, I totally lost all interest in fishing. I haven't been on a fishing boat since then and that would be nearly thirty years now. Sometimes you get a message from the sea telling you when to quit and you ignore it at your peril. Sorry for going on, thanks for indulging an old man in one of his dreary stories. My name if Jonas by the way. Where are you from?”

“I live in New York and my family is from upstate. Im Lana by the way and your story was cool. There are not a lot of fishermen were I live, so your stories could never bore me,” she replied giving him a warm smile.

“Well thanks for indulging me. Are you here on a vacation?”

“I’m here with a friend, we might stay a couple of weeks to kick back and relax. We both needed a break,” she said.

“It was good to meet you Lana, maybe I’ll see you around again. I might even bore you with another of my stories,” he said with a slight chuckle.

Jonas repositioned his hat on his head and went back to pushing his old fashioned lawnmower, he gave Lana one last friendly nod as she headed off towards the sea. A black cat sat in the middle of the footpath absorbing as much sun as possible and it slowly turned its head and watched Lana as she approached. Lana bent down and ran her fingers through his sun warmed fur and the cat emitted a deep throaty purr. The cat rolled over exposing its plump belly and Lana gave it a scratch until it put its paw against her hand and pushed her away. Lana felt relaxed and dare she say to herself that she even felt a little happy. The town of Vik was already beginning to charm her and she had been here less than an hour. She headed towards the footpath to the beach and with each step she put her old life farther behind her.

Lana stood on the worn ribbon of a path that weaved towards the sea. At her back the scrub covered mountains were starting to lose definition as they became encased in a low rolling fog. The white steeple from the matchbox size church broke through the wispy confines of the fog, the only man made structure visible in the encroaching gloom. Ahead of Lana and currently blocked by a small tufty tunnock thrashed the raging grey waters of the Atlantic ocean.

Lana crested the hill and gazed down at the black volcanic sands of the beach. Arctic terns spun and arced through the air, their rising and falling song pacing the sound of the crashing waves. Behind her the fog moved on of its own volition, a mass which desaturated everything of colour in its slow move towards the sea. The dried carcass of a small crab lay at the wash line and Lana flicked it over with the toe of her boot. To the right the beach curved gently towards a rocky cliff dotted with thousands of nesting birds, to the left the beach faded off into the oblivion of a huge cascading flow of fog, drifting like clotted cream off the edge of a bowl. Lana choose oblivion and walked towards the inviting nothingness of the fog.

With every footstep in the soft damp sand Lana could feel herself relax a little more. This was the first time she felt like she could relax in a long time. It felt like they had done nothing but run scared and watch their backs now for the last forty eight hours. Everything had fallen apart so quickly back home, would she ever even be able to return? Lana didn't want to think about that or anything right there so she concentrated on the sound of waves and the eery whisper of the winds whistling down from the mountains. She walked on robotically trying her best to push away the horrors of the last few days. She walked on in a half daze. A smudge of charcoal in a world of drifting whiteness.

Lana's foot sank into a shallow hole of damp sand. The shock of the cold water filling her boot snapped her out of her trudging trance. She tried to pull her foot out and her other foot began to sink below the surface with a loud sucking sound. She pushed down again to leverage herself out of the boggy hole and her legs sunk in deeper. The cloying black sand was now up to both her knees and she could feel herself getting pulled in deeper. She tried to kick her legs and it felt like she was encased in cold wet concrete. Dark brackish bubbles popped on the surface of the sand and as the cold spread up her legs Lana let out a long loud scream for help. The rapidly approaching fog seemed to swallow up her screams, folding it into the soft white peaks. Lana's skin prickled as the fog enveloped her in its ghost like veil. She shouted again at the top of her lungs, the screams of a flailing ghost heard by nothing more then birds high above the fog bank.

Cold water shocked her as it filled her underwear and grit and dark sludgy sand flowed over the top of her belt buckle. Her skin buzzed as she twisted back and forth at the hips trying to wriggle free. The sand was now past her her stomach and the earth emitted great bellowing wet slurps as it sucked her ever deeper. She pounded on the surface, thrashing wildly about to try to get some sort of leverage. Her body felt compressed and she could feel the air being pushed out of her lungs by the weight of the sand. Her fingers scratched and reached about wildly trying to find some stability. Everywhere she grabbed she was meet with nothing more then damp shifting sand.

She screamed again as the sand pulled her down further and covered her shoulders. Her scream came out as nothing more than a raspy whistle. The fogged rolled on, the waves crashed and the birds called.

She stopped trashing and tilted her head back to in a vain attempt to slow her demise. Her arms were sucked beneath the surface. She felt disconnected from her body as she gave into exhaustion. She couldn't fight anymore, the heavy wet volcanic sands felt like she was encased in a metal coffin all movement restricted to the fluttering of her eyelids and the laboured crushed activity of her lungs.

A cold sludge of sand and water flowed into her ears as she sank. The only sounds she could hear was the thud thud thud of her heart. It was faint and off in the distance as the earth swallowed her whole. The fog broke above her, a tiny moving window that allowed her to see a fleeting shock of the most vivid blue sky. She croaked out one final plea for help and then held her breath. The thud thud thudding of her heart grew louder in her ears as she sank below the surface and oblivion wrapped her in its gritty embrace.

The world was diminished to black. It encased Lana and slowly crushed her as it pulled her down into its onyx depths. The sound of her thudding heart grew to a thunderous roar and then stopped. Light and sound completely nullified by the black void. Lana's lungs burned and she knew this was the end, she could not hold on anymore as the earth devoured her.

The complete obsidian blackness split open wide and a strip of blurry light coming from above was suddenly visible. Strong hands dug under Lana's arms and pulled her up. She coughed and spluttered wet clogging sand from her mouth. The sweetest breath of a cool sea breeze filled her lungs. Sand clogged her nose and ears and all she could hear was the scrit scrit scrit of sand, a thousand mosquitoes buzzing in her ears.

The strong arms looped around her and now her head and shoulders were above the quicksand. A voice said something behind her that she didn't recognise and she felt herself being slowly dragged out of the sucking tomb like maw. The arms around her held her tight in their steely grip as the sand slowly receded. Lana stared up through squinting eyes at the sky, she could make out a blurry moving mass of swirling colours and nothing else. Seconds ago she thought she was dead and now she was breathing in great lungfuls of clean air.

She felt one of her boots get sucked off her foot and the ground emitted one last slurping sound as she was freed. She was dragged a few more feet and then the strong arms let her go. She lay on the beach panting, her chest rising and falling as it reacquainted itself with breathing again.

“Hang on a second,” said a mans voice from beside her. It was a melodic and lyrical Icelandic accent speaking in fluent english.

The man got up and Lana could hear the heavy breathing of some large animal behind her and then a ripping like the sound of heavy fabric being pulled apart. She looked around and all she could see was coloured blobs moving about. “I cant see,” she cried out.

“It's the sand, I’m getting you some water to wash out you eyes,” replied the man who had saved her.

He returned to her side and held her face gently with his hand, his skin was warm and course against Lana's cheek. “I’m going to pour some water on your eyes hang on a second,” he said as he began to pour. The water ran down her face and Lana blinked again. She winced in pain as the grit was washed away and balled her hand into a fist. Her eyes stung and all she could see was streaming blobs of colour dancing about.

“I cant see,” She said, as she could feel the terror and fear rise in her body.

“I’m going to get you to help immediately. I have my horse with me and we can ride into town. Keep your eyes closed. Sit here and I’ll get you a blanket and then lift you onto the back of my horse.” He got up and Lana heard him rummaging in a bag. A cold chill was biting into her flesh where the black sand clung to her in damp clumps. She sat up and dumped some of the water over her face and felt the sand run off her in gritty rivulets.
 
She rinsed the grit from inside her mouth and spat onto the ground beside her.

“Who are you?” Lana croaked out through cracked and dry lips, her voice sounded like it had been swallowed by a desert.

“I’m Einar,” he said as he wrapped the blanket around her and picked her up in his arms, “I heard you shouting for help as I rode along the beach.”
 

She rested her face against his neck breathing in his scent of sea salt and freshly dried hay. His body emanated heat against Lana's rapidly cooling one. He walked with strong assured steps as he carried her in his arms. The horse snorted and shook its head as Einar sat Lana into the saddle. He got on sitting in front of her and said, “Hold on tight. I’ll get you to the doctor as quick as possible.”

Lana wrapped her arms around Einar's waist and lay her head on his broad back. She could feel the tight muscles in his torso move as he raised the reins and the horse began to gallop across the beach. His body emanated heat like a furnace and Lana pressed against it trying to draw out as much of its warmth as possible. She opened her eye a crack and winced again in pain. All she could see was a smudgy grey and black pulsating mass as they sped across the beach. The horse kicked up sprays of black sand as Einar tapped his heel against the horses flank. The wind whipped by them and Lana gripped Einar as the horse took a slight uphill path. Nothing could make her let go of him and she held on tight.

The horse slowed its pace and then the soft clumping noises of his hooves changed as they left the beach and headed into town across asphalt. They rode on for another minute or two and then Einar brought the horse to a stop. Lana did not want to let go of Einar and it wasn't until he tapped her on the shoulder that she released her grip. He lifted her off the horse and said, “Can you walk?”

Lana stood unsteadily for a second and then walked a few steps before her legs nearly buckled under her. Einar grabbed her by the waist and held her up and said, “Lean on me, I’ve got you.” He lead her into a building and spoke to someone in Icelandic. Lana could feel any of her last dregs of energy start to fade away. Everywhere was starting to hurt and the pain in her eyes was beginning to intensify. Lana's legs gave out beneath her and she felt herself start to fall and then she was floating as Einar picked her up in his powerful arms and carried her into a small room and placed her on a bed. They were in the small three room clinic that serviced the town of Vik.

“Thank you Einar for saving me,” Lana said as she lay back on the bed. She reached out for his hand and he took it, his large coarse fingers entwining with hers. “Don't leave me alone, will you stay with me?” she asked.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay by your side for as long as you need me,” Einar said.

The door to the room opened and a short balding man wearing wire rimmed glasses came in. The few tufts of hair left on his head stuck out and gave him the look of a mad professor. He spoke a few words to Einar who then translated, “The Doctors english is not so good so I will translate for him. A nurse is going to come in to help you get out of your wet clothes and then we will come back.”