“I’ve been trying to call her but can’t raise her,” Ciara said. “The road is flooded, and we can’t get back. We found a couple of rooms at the Charleston Place Hotel. If you see her, can you be letting her know so she doesn’t worry?”
“I’ll tell her.” He ended the call. His inner urgency to see Alanna kicked up. Why wasn’t she answering her phone? This was the only road in or out, and though he couldn’t drive it, he could walk. It was only two more miles. He’d make it there within an hour, even in the storm. A small cemetery was just to his right. He could park the car there and hoof it. Maybe there would be a better way on foot through the cemetery.
Angling the car through the open gate, he parked it in a pull-off area and got out. The rain immediately soaked through to his skin. It was hard to see in such a heavy downpour. The estate was to his right, north. He struck off in that direction.
Splashing through mud puddles, he ran for the slightly darker area where he knew the hillside was located. To his relief, he saw a small footbridge over the raging water that was quickly climbing to the bottom of the bridge. He lowered his head and ran for the other side. He reached it and leaped onto the grass.
His right sneaker hit mud, and his left one hit slick grass. He lost his balance and flung out his arms to try to regain it. The momentum threw him to the right, and he went down on one knee, still sliding toward the precipice into the water. He grabbed at tufts of grass, but they were too short and wet to allow him any purchase. Gaining momentum, he hurtled toward the water.
The next thing he knew, his head was underwater and the churning current tried to keep it there. His feet touched bottom and he pushed himself upward. He had to breathe! His lungs burned with the pressure to pull in oxygen. The churning water was too dark to see through, and he lost all sense of time and location. His vision darkened even more. Where was the surface?
His head broke through and he gulped in oxygen. The turbulent water pushed him along, and he saw a tree stump coming toward him like a deadly projectile. He dived for the bottom, and though the stump struck only a glancing blow on his head, it was enough to disorient him for a moment. When he gained his senses, he found himself clinging to a rock. Pushing himself up again, he greedily sucked in air. He had to find a way out of this swollen creek.
When he dived again, he felt along the bottom for tree roots—and found them. He wrapped his fingers around the roots, then managed to land his other hand on them as well. Hand over hand, he dragged his way toward the surface along the roots. When his head broke the water this time he was along the side of the bank, but the water hurtling past threatened to tear his grip from the tree roots.
The blow to his head still made him feel woozy—or maybe it was all the water he swallowed. It would be so much easier to just let go, quit fighting. Let the current tear the roots from his grasp and take him into oblivion. But he had to get to Alanna again, protect her. In that moment, Jesse realized he couldn’t just give in. He had to fight.
Somewhere he found the strength to reach his right hand up and grasp the tangled mass of tree roots. He put the toe of his shoe into the roots along the wall of the creek and struggled against the current. Inch by inch he managed to climb his way out of the churning water until he lay gasping in the mud like a newborn turtle.
He groaned and rolled onto his back. The rain pelted him, filling his nose and mouth until he felt he was drowning again, but he was too weak to resist. The thud of the rain against the ground filled his ears, and he heard music. Coughing, he rolled to his side, and his head began to clear.
The music in his head continued to play, only this time he heard the words.
Two souls bound which none can sever. This nightsong
is for you. Our love will last through fire and
trouble. This nightsong is for you. Not even death
can break our hearts. This nightsong is for you.
He recognized the tune now. The tune that played on the music box Alanna had played for them. The tune he’d been humming. In a moment it all flooded back. His life, the night of the explosion. He could hear the screaming metal in his head, Jesse’s shout.
He was Liam Connolly, not Jesse Hawthorne.
Struggling to his feet, he knew he had to get to Alanna. Tell her who he was and get her out of that house.
In a loping run, he turned and plunged in the direction of the estate. The current had thrust him closer and he’d come up on the north side of the creek. He should be there within half an hour.
The wind blew the rain sideways, blinding him. He swiped the moisture from his eyes and peered through the darkness. The wind pushed against him, impeding his progress. It might take longer than he anticipated. The wise thing to do would be to take shelter in a closer house, but Alanna needed him. An inner urgency drove him on.
He had to save her.
Thirty-Two