The storm raged on outside, distant thunder rolling through the cave resembling Earth's heartbeat.
Once we settled and Doug's shoulders no longer had that edge, I said, "I'm turning off the lighter now."
"What?" he snapped. "Why?"
I cocked my head at him. Maybe he's scared of the dark, too? I filed that into my “good to know” file. "We need the fuel to get out of here tomorrow. So don't do anything stupid."
Before he could respond, I snapped the lighter shut, plunging us into absolute darkness. The kind of black that pressed against my eyes and made me question if they were even open.
I'd been through some hairy situations in Syria and Afghanistan. Firefights, ambushes, extraction missions gone sideways. But those had been war zones, where staying alive had been a daily battle. I’d expected danger there. I’d never thought I'd be in that kind of fight for survival again, not out here on our own land. Then again, if Frank turned up alive, that would be a different story, the kind that ended with blood.
As the minutes crawled by, Doug's shallow, uneven breaths echoed from across the cave. Occasionally, he muttered a curse or made a strangled sound like he was crying. The pathetic bastard had crossed a line he couldn't come back from. It was too late for regrets. Would he let us walk out of here after what he'd already done? I doubted it.
Charlie had gone quiet, too.
I shifted slightly, and she flinched.
"Hey," I murmured. "I'm just getting comfortable."
"Sorry," she whispered. "I hate the dark."
That made two of us. Not that I'd admit it. The dark still got to me, and I hated that about myself. I hated that my childhood terror survived despite decades of forcing myself into worse nightmares than this. I'd tried working through that bullshit for years, but I hadn’t been able to kill it, no matter how many ops I'd run in pitch-black conditions.
Charlie made a soft sound, and her breath hitched. Is she crying? I wanted to pull her to my chest and tell her everything would be okay, but she probably wouldn't want that. Or my bullshit. She was smart enough to know we were far from okay.
Minutes bled into hours, and the air grew colder, seeping into my bones.
Beside me, Charlie fidgeted, rubbing her arms, curling into herself. Her damp clothes had to be making the cold worse.
Then her teeth began to chatter loud enough that even Doug probably heard it across the cave.
"Come here," I said quietly.
"I'm okay."
"No, you're not. You're freezing." I shifted, spreading my legs and reaching for her shoulders in the darkness. "Come on."
She hesitated, then moved slightly so our thighs were touching.
"Charlie, will you just …" Gripping her shoulders, I guided her between my knees, pulling her back against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, using my body to provide warmth and to block the cold seeping from the cave walls.
She went stiff, every muscle locking up like she might bolt.
"Relax," I murmured near her ear. "We're just staying warm. That's all."
She seemed to be holding her breath. Then, slowly, she softened against me, her head settling under my chin. Her breath came out shaky.
"Better?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Thank you."
Across the cave, Doug shifted, and it sounded like the rifle barrel scraped against stone.
I tensed, straining to listen, ready to shove Charlie away and jump to my feet if he came near us. But the only other sounds were the distant thunder echoing down the tunnel, a constant drip coming from somewhere, and Charlie's delicate breathing in my arms.
She leaned her head back and twisted her face toward mine. "Mitch?" Her voice was so quiet I almost didn't hear it.
"Yeah?"