72 Hours

An hour? One measly hour?

I close my eyes. Noah has let go of my hand and I want it back, I want him to hang on to me and never let me go, but he’s shutting down and I don’t blame him. We’ve lived through hell, and the entire time we were in it, we were fighting to get out. Now that we’re out, nothing feels okay. There seems to be little relief, little comfort, little of anything.

We’re free, alive, and safe.

But it doesn’t feel okay.

Maggie asks us basic questions as we drive, but only I answer. Noah stays silent. Eventually the entire car falls silent and we all just sit there. I can smell us, and I only realized now that we have a strong scent coming from our bodies. Blood, sweat, days without hygiene, and death. So much death. I close my eyes and take a shaky breath. I’m not ready for this. I have to be, but I’m not.

The questions.

The panicked family members.

The normal life.

The car slows and I realize we’re already at the hospital. I didn’t notice any lights; I didn’t even hear the cars around us. Somehow, I blanked out all of it. I was so far gone in my own little world I didn’t even realize we’d come back to civilization. Panic grips me as I peer out the window to where Maggie is calling for a nurse, waving her arms around. One comes out and listens as she rambles quickly.

About us, obviously.

The nurse nods and rushes back inside, coming out with two wheelchairs. Here goes the silence; in seconds it’s going to rush out the door and we’re going to be bombarded with questions and concerns and needles and doctors. I take another shaky breath and look to Noah. He’s staring straight ahead. My heart aches for him. I don’t get to say anything because the door is flung open and a young, blond nurse peeks inside the car.

She takes one look at us and her eyes go wide. “Oh my.”

That about sums it up.

“My name is Jill. I’m going to help you out of the car, okay? Can you tell me if anything is broken?”

I shake my head.

“And him?”

I shake my head again.

“Okay, very carefully hop out for me. Lara, is it?”

Does she watch the news, too?

I climb out of the car, ignoring her question. She takes hold of my arm, directing me into a wheelchair. It’s cold against my legs, but another nurse quickly rushes forward and hands me a warm blanket. I raise it back up to my chin and keep it there, watching as Noah climbs out. He gets the same treatment. Then we’re being wheeled inside.

I look over my shoulder and smile at Maggie.

She sobs.

I don’t know why.





TWENTY-NINE

I wake to the sounds of frantic voices.

Nurses are calling out to one another, and the sound of male cries can be heard echoing through the halls. Familiar male cries. I sit up, rubbing my eyes and pushing myself from the bed. Noah and I have been in here overnight but I’ve yet to see him. When we arrived we were whisked away for assessing and questioning. I’ve been worried about him ever since. My feet hit the cold ground, and for a few seconds I wobble about. The nurse took my drip out today; I’m now hydrated, so I don’t have to drag that horrible thing around with me anymore.

“Please, sir, calm down!” I hear a nurse cry.

“Get the fuck away from me.”

Noah.

That’s Noah.

My heart pounds and I rush to the door.

“If you don’t calm down we’ll have to detain you.”

“Get off me!”

I pick up the pace, running down the hall on weak legs toward the pained, broken voice of my love. I reach the room where nurses are rushing in and out, and I step in.

“Lara, you can’t be here, it’s dangerous,” a young nurse says, taking my arm.

I glare at her. “You know nothing about what he’s going through. Let me in there.”

“I can’t do that—” she begins, but I jerk my arm back so hard she stumbles.

I take the window of opportunity and run into the room. Two male doctors or nurses, I don’t know which, are holding Noah’s arms. One is coming over to jab a needle in his neck.

“Stop!” I cry, running over.

“Miss, you need to leave,” the doctor yells.

“No. Stop. He’s just afraid. You’re making it worse.”

Noah throws his head back and bellows, sweat trickling down his face. He needs me. I wasn’t there for him when he needed me last, but I am now and I won’t give up on him.

“Let him go,” I say to the two men holding him.

“Can someone get her out,” one yells.

I ignore them, climbing onto the end of Noah’s bed. His legs are jerking, but my weight holds them down.

“Miss, get off the bed!”

I crawl up and when I reach his face, I cup it in my hands. “Noah, stop.”

He keeps thrashing.

“Get someone in here to move her!” the doctor orders. “Now!”

“Noah, please,” I say.

He keeps bellowing.

I lean in closer, risking a solid head butt. I bring my mouth to his ear, my legs straddling his hips. “Noah. Calm down,” I say softly into his ear. “It’s me. Lara. I’m here. You’re okay. I’m here with you. You’re safe now.”

His body jerks, but he stops thrashing.

“It’s all over,” I continue. “It’s okay. It’s finished. We’re safe. I’m here. I won’t leave you. I promise you I’ll never leave you again.”

His sweat runs down his face, but he’s stopped thrashing. The two men slowly let him go, and the doctor waves a hand to make sure they don’t go far. Noah jerks in my grip. Then his big arms close around me, consuming me, keeping me safe. I sob, burrowing my face into the crook of his neck. He starts shaking. Finally breaking. He’s been a pillar of strength, so strong, so determined, and now it’s all finally crumbling.

“Leave them be,” the doctor orders. “Nurse, stay by the door.”

The room clears. Noah hangs on to me so tightly I can hardly breathe, but I say nothing. We just sit there, both of us crying, me loudly, him silently. After about an hour, his arms finally relax and he says in a thick, emotional tone, “I can’t close my eyes and not see you lying there bleeding.”

My heart breaks.

“I know,” I whisper.

“The dreams are so real. I think I’m back there, that we’re still trapped and fighting. In them, he always kills you right in front of me. It’s so fucking real, Lara.”

“I know, honey.”

“Then I wake up and I realize it’s over, but I don’t feel any better.”

“I think it’s going to take some time for us to feel better.”

“I don’t know what happened just now, it was like I couldn’t rise from the dream. They just wanted to hold me down and the more they did, the more frantic I got. Then I heard your voice…”

I lean back and meet his bloodshot eyes. He looks awful. Worn out. I probably look the same. “I’m here, Noah. I let you down in that forest. I let a moment of weakness beat me, but you can be assured it’ll never happen again. I’m never going to leave you. Never. We’re going to get through this together.”

“They want us to go back,” he croaks.

“I know.”