The Light Between the Trees Ch. 16

Author's note: Traumatised by being held hostage in the cafe siege, Chloe has chosen a new direction in her life. She gives up her steady boyfriend and stable job to seek out new thrills in risky encounters. Covalent has laid out his plans to make her disappear and Chloe finds herself spiraling deeper and deeper into his fantasy of total control.

The story contains themes of female submission, edge play and autassassinophilia. Discretion is advised: please check the story tags to see whether this a series you'll enjoy.]

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THE LIGHT BETWEEN THE TREES

The next morning, the entire sky is orange. I wake up gradually, roused as usual by daylight, but this is eerie, draining all colours until the landscape is swaddled in greys and blacks, like we've been transported from Earth to Hell. The door opens, but I've forgotten all about my display pose. So has Covalent. He's looking out, then checking his phone.

"What's going on?" I ask.

He doesn't answer, scrolling through updates on the little screen.

"Cove, what's happening?"

I get up and go over to him, peering at his phone. He stops and then abruptly stuffs it into his pocket, striding back indoors. I turn, looking back at the angry, alien sky. It doesn't look good.

He passes me, jangling keys, opening the flyscreen door and taking the steps two at a time. I trot along behind, following him to the silver all-wheel-drive parked around the side of the house. He unlocks it and turns the ignition.

"What are you doing?"

He doesn't answer me, watching the dashboard. This time I grab his shoulder, and I finally get his attention.

"I'm just seeing how much range we have."

"Why?"

"We need to leave. We're in the path of the fires."

I suddenly remember being in his arms on the rock, finishing the picnic, looking at the tower of smoke on the horizon. The wind was in our faces, blowing up the valley. Oh shit: towards us, blowing the fire straight in our direction.

Covalent is on the move now, back to the house. He goes inside and I wait at the open doorway, watching him. I don't know what he wants me to do.

It takes him five minutes, but he's packed a bag and he hands me a water container to take to the car. I begin to ferry the loads to his vehicle. The rules have gone out the window now. The carefully constructed life he's made for us is gone, just like that. I pack the stuff into the back, and then he's striding towards me, carrying more. He dumps it in unceremoniously and closes the back door, leaving me standing there.

"What about me?" I ask, and he stops.

I can see that he doesn't understand. I need to repeat my question.

"What about me?"

"You need to get in. We need to go."

I can see his frustration, but I need to say it, I need to tell him.

"What happens if we don't?"

"Raven, get in."

I don't move. "What happens?" I repeat.

"If we stay, there's a very likely prospect of burning to death," he replies, and I can hear the tension in his voice, "Get in."

I'm seized by an unreasoning dread, and I remain rooted to the spot.

"Raven," he barks, "We're running out of time."

"I'm the one with the deathwish," I reply, "You should go."

He's stunned. I can see the shock on his face, struggling to formulate the words.

"This isn't a game, Raven, this is life and death. Real life and death."

I get it. I get all of it. It's clear to me now.

"I know. But what happens if we go? I'm not missing anymore. I'm Chloe again, you're Hayden."

"And?" he snaps, not really listening.

I have to make him see.

"Do you know how often I had nightmares, back in my apartment? Do you?"

I can see that he's forcing himself to stay calm. He shakes his head slowly.

"Every night. Every fucking night. And how many nightmares have I had since I got here? Not a single one."

I spread my arms, imploring, trying to encompass the heat, the light, the trees, the little old wooden house.

"I can't leave. I can't go back to that. I won't survive."

Covalent doesn't move, like he's at war with himself, trying to decide our options, our chances.

"Which is ironic," I continue, "Given everything I've said, believe me I know."

He's staring at me. Behind him, the sun has risen, but it's a baleful blood-red eye ascending into the sky, promising more stifling, choking heat.

"Go," I implore him, "It's okay."

I mean it. It's okay. If this is the end of the line, then I'm fine with it. I've discovered that I've finally made my peace, that the siege is behind me. He's shown me a light beyond the darkness, a release from the maddening spiral I was caught in, no longer being sucked down and down.

"Thank you, Cove, I'm good. You need to go."

He closes the door and walks up to me, enfolding me in his arms. I look up into his face, bewildered.

"I need to stay," he tells me, leading me back to the house.

It's all he says, and so we sit on the verandah, on two chairs, looking out at the darkening sky, letting time pass, waiting for news on the progress of the fire front. As we sit there, it's as if night is approaching, though it isn't yet ten o'clock in the morning. He's checking his phone again, like he's been doing every five minutes.

"I want you to go," I tell him.

I must have told him a hundred times, but the answer is always the same: a shake of the head and silence. This time it's different.

"Too late," he says, holding up the phone so I can see the screen, "The fire's cut the road. The advisory is to shelter in place."

He sighs and nods to himself, fatalistically. "I guess that's it. We need to get ready."

Covalent gets up from his chair.

"I wish you'd have just left me here," I whisper.

"Get buckets, whatever you can find. We need to fill them."

"I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter. Let's go."

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We work as fast as we can, but I know we're screwed. Covalent's looking up a property fire preparation plan on his phone and it's weeks of work to get this old house ready for what's coming. The cladding is all dry, cracked timber and hasn't seen paint in the best part of a decade. It's going to go up like a bonfire if the flames get to it. He's working frantically, but everywhere I look it's hopeless. The tinder-dry grass runs right up to the front door. My stomach hurts, because I know I've killed us both.

He looks me up and down and then waves me to follow him.

"We need to get you covered up."

He opens the door and allows me to enter the house. One of the bags is on the floor, and he stoops to pull some clothes out of it, pushing them in my direction hurriedly. It's a shirt of his, and a pair of jeans. I put them on but they're ridiculously long on me. I'm holding them up with my hands. It feels so strange to have fabric touching my skin.

"Here, use this."

He tosses me a belt and as I thread it through the belt loops as he throws a pair of sneakers my way. My feet don't fit but he bends down and fastens the laces tight. He stands up, adjusting my collar, putting a cap on my head.

"All set. You ready?"

His eyes are intense and that's when I lose it. His usual calm, controlling demeanour is gone. I can see the stress, and something behind all that: the fear. I tear up, like a child, and I hate myself for it. I've dragged him into this, and it's all my fault. He should have just picked me up and manhandled me into the back and driven off because I'm clearly incapable of making any good decisions. His face softens.

"Hey, don't do that."

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I'm so... I've really fucked up."

A thought occurs to me, and I cling to it desperately.

"Why don't we get out? We might still be able to get through. You're driving a fucking tank. I'm sure it...."

He rests his forehead against mine and I fall silent.

"Why did you stay?" I whisper.

He doesn't answer, but he cups my cheeks in his hands, and we stand together in the old wooden house, in the heat, as the last of the light ebbs from the sky and everything turns black.

"Let's get some height," he tells me, "I want to see the situation."

He takes me by the hand, and we go outside. There is an old ladder under the verandah, and piles of splintered, dry wood. The house is stacked like a pyre.

"You first."

He leans the ladder against the wall and I climb up, struggling in Covalent's oversized sneakers. The roof is corrugated iron and it creaks ominously under my weight, but it holds. I skitter across the metal on all fours until I reach the ridge line. I can hear Covalent behind me, but I don't really pay any attention. I can't take my eyes off the view.

The sky is black as midnight even though it's still morning, but it's an empty void, as if the night has consumed all the stars. I can see the picket of trees that surround the paddock, rendered into dark hulking shapes by the hellish red glow behind them. Then, one by one, the stars come out.

I watch them drifting through the sky: little orange points of light, spiralling high above me, borne up by a fierce, invisible tempest. A glowing mote settles on the roof nearby, winking red and orange as it smoulders. I watch it with horrified fascination until it snuffs itself out, and then I turn to Covalent. I gasp: the sky is now strewn with little amber points of light.

There is a glow through the trees and the wind shifts, stalling and then changing direction, blowing towards the trees now. I know with utter certainty that we don't stand a chance.

"I stayed because you're here," he tells me, finally answering my question.

"But I killed us both."

Covalent wraps his arms around me and we stare at the baleful ruddy light beyond the trees, surrounded on all sides by shooting stars of red and gold. It's absolutely breathtaking. Covalent draws his hunting knife out of his jacket.

"I won't let you burn," he murmurs, "I promised you it would be perfect. I'm sorry, I failed."

His knuckles are white, gripping the knife handle. I reach out and fold my hands over his, squeezing tightly. We can see it now, a wall of fire barrelling up the valley, glinting between the trunks. Here and there, the paddock blossoms into flame as the embers settle onto the grass. Like thunder, but longer, more sustained, I can hear the rumble. His knife gleams redly in the firelight.

"What about you?" I ask him.

He laughs, but it's a hollow, rasping sound. "I guess I'm gonna burn. It's okay. After what I've done, I probably deserve it."

I look into his eyes and right there, I can see the end. I can't breathe. The knife tip hovers close, and the only thing I can think of is just how much I love this man. Finally, actually, for the first time in all my life: love.

Fuck this.

Fuck all of this.

It doesn't end like this. It only ends when I fucking say it ends.

I let go of the knife and I'm in motion, skidding back down the iron roof. Covalent's standing there, a dark outline against the hellish glow behind him.

"Come on," I yell back at him, spurring him into action.

I clamber back down the ladder, jumping the last few rungs and landing in a heap in the grass. When I look up, I can see that parts of the paddock are fully ablaze. Behind me, he's clattering down the rungs, but I don't wait. I race around to the verandah, throwing the screen door open violently, looking for my woollen blanket. It's folded neatly on the chair, and I grab it, bumping into Covalent as he comes up behind me. Through the house, I can see an orange glow, but we're not heading that way. I propel us both out to the water tank, ripping off the lid.

"What're you doing?" he calls out to me, "There's no water in the tank."

He's wrong: there's just enough. I reach inside and drop the blanket into the water, soaking it until it's sopping. I heave it out, and it's heavy now.

"This way."

I start to run across the field, tripping over my feet, stumbling in my haste. I kick his sneakers off and sprint barefoot across the grass, trailing the blanket out behind me. I'm looking for something, but it's a dark hole in the darkness and I'm seized with a sudden panic that I didn't get my bearings right, and that I'm going in the wrong direction.

Then I see the mound of earth. Covalent is right behind me, running flat out. He knows what I'm thinking, and we reach the edge of the grave together. I stumble to a halt.

"Raven, what?"

"Clothing," I stammer, "Fibres. Burns."

I'm gasping for breath. I don't know if it's the running, or if the fire is sucking the oxygen out of the air. The thunder is building to an almighty roar. I can feel the bass wall of noise against my skin, bypassing my eardrums and sinking directly into my bones. Covalent hesitates. He doesn't understand.

I begin to shed my clothes. "Clothing burns," I tell him, explaining as if to a five-year-old.

At last, he seems to comprehend, stripping himself too.

"You first," I tell him.

He braces himself against the rim of the hole and slides down. I toss the sodden blanket down to him and suddenly I can see his face, looking up at me, like it's day. I can't help myself, and I turn to look.

The trees on the far side of the paddock stand like dark fenceposts against the angry orange light. The air itself begins to shudder with the staggering roar of the fire, deafening me. I watch, transfixed, as the tree line, our last defence, is engulfed in an unbroken, towering wall of flame. It looks like Hell itself. It looks like the last moments of the end of the world.

I feel a hand on my ankle and I look down to see Covalent yelling at me, but his voice is lost in the tempest. He tugs my foot and my legs give way, sliding down into the darkness as the world explodes in fire. His hands wrap around me and there's the shocking coldness of the blanket on my skin as he covers us both. My throat aches and I realise I'm screaming.

Covalent cradles my body, pulling my face into the crook of his neck, holding me tightly, telling me over and over again that it's going to be okay. Under the blanket, at the bottom of the grave he intended for me, we are buffered from the hellish pandemonium above us, but I don't believe that it's enough to save us. I close my eyes and all I can see is the wall of flame rushing towards me. No, I realise, it's not going to be nearly enough.

I pull back and even under the blanket, I can make out his face, bathed in filtered golden light from above. I kiss him tenderly. His eyes are wide, and I can see him staring back at me.

"If we're going to die," I tell him, "I want them to find us together, like this."

I kiss him again, feeling the softness of his lips. It's the only thing that matters now.

"I want them to know what you meant to me."

I feel him, wrapping my fingers around his manhood. He's erect, and it feels like an iron rod. I slide down onto him, taking him all the way in all at once, feeling the heavenly bliss of being filled by the man I know I love.

In the tempest, lit from above by the howling flames, I ride him, feeling his arms around me. I drive down onto him and he rises up against me, over and over, savage, primal, the fear shredding away as my body peaks in overpowering climax. He surges, erupting inside me, and we are bound together as one, lost in our final moments in the bliss, the ecstasy.

I'm crying and I'm laughing.

Such terror. Such joy.

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[Next chapter: epilogue.

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