Bonded by Accident

She couldn’t make herself go on. The fear was rising inside her like evil, black water, threatening to drown her completely.

If I lose my daughter…if I lose Emmie, I want to die too, she thought as despair gripped her heart. I know where Bud keeps his gun locked up and I know where the key is. If Emmie is gone—

“Stop it! Don’t think like that!” Slade grabbed her by the arms and shook her briefly. “Come back to me, Brandi—come back and listen,” he demanded, glaring into her eyes.

Brandi blinked and looked up at him. “Y-yes?” she finally managed to get out.

“You and Emmie are mine to protect,” Slade growled. There was a fierce, protective light in his mismatched eyes and a determined set to his square jaw. “You’re mine and I’m not going to lose either one of you!”

“Sorry,” she whispered through numb lips. “Sorry, I’m just so scared.”

“I know you are, baby.” He gave her a rough, one-armed hug, pulling her against his broad chest for a moment. “But I swear to you now, I’m going to find Emmie or die trying. Now let me see…”

Leaning down, he sniffed around the area where the tracks were. Then, still crouching low as though to catch a scent that was close to the ground, he followed the path that Emmie had partially made into the woods.

“Well?” Brandi couldn’t keep the hope and fear out of her voice.

Slade straightened up.

“She definitely went this way. The canine went too. Hopefully they’re still together.” Looking at Brandi, he noticed the machete in her hand. “Here—I need this.” Plucking it from her fist, he waded back into the tangle of vines and weeds and branches and started swinging.

Brandi watched in awe as he started clearing brush, cutting a way into the heart of the swampy forest and stopping every now and then to crouch and sniff, to make sure he had the right scent.

“I want to come with you,” she sent through the link, expecting that he would deny her and say it was too dangerous. But Slade seemed to understand her need to go after her daughter herself.

“Get changed into something that covers your legs and feet,” he sent back shortly. “Then you can follow my trail.”

Looking down at herself, Brandi realized she was barefoot and was still wearing her old, faded nightshirt, which was now all ragged and torn from where she’d tried to force her way through the trees and sharp branches. Slade was right—this wasn’t a good outfit to go out into the woods in.

Rushing back into the trailer, she threw on some jeans and found a pair of cowboy boots she’d gotten a long time ago before Emmie was born, when she and Crystal had gone line-dancing. She left her nightshirt on but tied it in a knot at her waist. Then she rushed out the door again and, ignoring her mother’s and step-father’s questions about who the huge man was, plunged into the forest behind Slade.

I’m coming, Emmie-bear, I swear I am. Just hold on, sweetpea—hold on!

* * * * *

Emmie didn’t like the forest.

It was a lot scarier on the inside than it looked on the outside and there were lots of bitey-stingy mosquitoes. She’d lost one of her slippers in the mucky mud and her little pink flashlight got dimmer and dimmer as she tried to follow the little stream of water that she knew would lead her to the river.

But the stream didn’t turn into the river after all—after what seemed like a long, long time, it became a marshy lake instead. The plants around the water’s edge were so thick they looked like solid ground and Emmie sank down into their muddy roots almost up to her waist when she tried to step on them.

Charlie had grabbed her by the back of her nightgown and pulled her back up again but then her flashlight had gone completely out.

Emmie had begun to cry then—the woods were too scary and dark and muddy and awful and the river wasn’t anywhere and her real daddy and the Daddy-man were nowhere to be seen.

She wanted to go back but it was dark and the thick branches hid most of the moonlight. She and Charlie wandered around some more until they came to a big old tree with mostly dry roots sticking out of the ground. Emmie sat between two of them and Charlie curled himself around her and nuzzled her face, trying to lick away her tears.

It didn’t help much, but it was something. She hadn’t found the Daddy-man but at least she wasn’t completely all alone. Finally, Emmie buried her face in Charlie’s furry neck and fell into a fitful, exhausted sleep.

When she woke up, it was daylight and Charlie was whining in her ear. The first thing she thought was that she was itchy and stiff all over and the second thing was that she was terribly thirsty.