glanced around for Sarah and spotted her at the foot of an incline, gathering fruit with some of the local children.
He was so focused on her that he failed to watch where he was going, and his boot inevitably tangled in a nest of forgotten wire. He was bending over to try and untangle his foot when the rumbling began.
His first thought was thunder . His second thought was earthquake . His third thought was Run!
He caught sight of Sarah’s terrified face and the screaming children pointing at something just behind him. Still struggling with the nest of wires, he glanced over his shoulder.
A stack of heavy utility logs had broken loose from the pile and was tumbling down the mountain directly toward him.
“Oh, fuck. ”
Jack whipped his head back to his foot, frantically trying to loosen the wires enough to untie his trapped boot and hop one-footed down the mountain if he had to, but there was no way, no time, and nowhere to go.
When the shadows of the falling logs fell over his back, he glanced up at Sarah. At least she’d be the last thing he saw before he was crushed to death under seven-hundred-pound utility poles.
Her face was no longer terrified. If anything, she looked. . . confused?
She was doing the blinky-fluttery thing again, her face tilted not toward him, but toward his impending annihilation.
He braced for impact.
The first log bounced overhead, close enough to rustle his hair. The second log. . . didn’t happen.
After several long seconds of absolutely nothing, Jack straightened his hunched spine and stared over his shoulder.
The utility poles had. . . stopped . Against all logic, against all gravity, against everything he’d ever learned from Bill Nye the Science Guy, dozens of heavy logs lay silent on the muddy incline, as harmless as tinker toys. Even the treacherous wiring entangling his feet had fallen aside like so much overcooked spaghetti.
He could walk away. He was fine .
He jerked his eyes back toward Sarah. She was looking at him, not at the death logs defying gravity just above him. Nor was she doing the epileptic fluttery thing anymore. If he had to put a word on it, he’d have to say she looked. . .
Guilty.
As if she’d made the impossible possible with just the power of her mind. As if she’d saved his life—no, “guarded him from death”—just as she’d promised she would.
Holy mother of Christ. She was a guardian angel!
He scrambled out of the wiring as fast as he could and raced down the incline. His heart was still thundering from the adrenaline, from the fear, from surviving the freaking impossible. He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to catch his breath.
“Did you do that?” he panted.
She didn’t answer, but her cheeks turned a suspicious shade of pink.
“You did do it! I knew you did it! I mean, are doing it.” He glanced over his shoulder. Yep, the utility poles were still defying gravity. A crowd was beginning to form.
As if she’d just realized what he meant, Sarah’s eyes widened in alarm—then fluttered unnaturally.
The logs were once again on the move, but this time, not dangerously. The utility poles all but meandered down the incline, harmlessly coming to rest against this tree or that rock.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Jack could barely even breathe, much less think. His heart was still in hyperactive arrhythmia. “You’re an actual angel. You saved my life.”
“All in a day’s work,” she mumbled, without making eye contact. “It’s a full-time job, keeping you safe.”
He stared at her speechlessly. He was pretty sure his head was going to explode at any moment. She really was an angel. A guardian angel. Which meant there were angels. His mind reeled. So did the rest of him. He had to sit down. No, he couldn’t sit down. There was nowhere to sit. Plus he was still gripping her shoulders. Why was he gripping her shoulders? Was gripping an angel’s shoulders a sin? Oh shit, he’d kissed her. He couldn’t
He was so focused on her that he failed to watch where he was going, and his boot inevitably tangled in a nest of forgotten wire. He was bending over to try and untangle his foot when the rumbling began.
His first thought was thunder . His second thought was earthquake . His third thought was Run!
He caught sight of Sarah’s terrified face and the screaming children pointing at something just behind him. Still struggling with the nest of wires, he glanced over his shoulder.
A stack of heavy utility logs had broken loose from the pile and was tumbling down the mountain directly toward him.
“Oh, fuck. ”
Jack whipped his head back to his foot, frantically trying to loosen the wires enough to untie his trapped boot and hop one-footed down the mountain if he had to, but there was no way, no time, and nowhere to go.
When the shadows of the falling logs fell over his back, he glanced up at Sarah. At least she’d be the last thing he saw before he was crushed to death under seven-hundred-pound utility poles.
Her face was no longer terrified. If anything, she looked. . . confused?
She was doing the blinky-fluttery thing again, her face tilted not toward him, but toward his impending annihilation.
He braced for impact.
The first log bounced overhead, close enough to rustle his hair. The second log. . . didn’t happen.
After several long seconds of absolutely nothing, Jack straightened his hunched spine and stared over his shoulder.
The utility poles had. . . stopped . Against all logic, against all gravity, against everything he’d ever learned from Bill Nye the Science Guy, dozens of heavy logs lay silent on the muddy incline, as harmless as tinker toys. Even the treacherous wiring entangling his feet had fallen aside like so much overcooked spaghetti.
He could walk away. He was fine .
He jerked his eyes back toward Sarah. She was looking at him, not at the death logs defying gravity just above him. Nor was she doing the epileptic fluttery thing anymore. If he had to put a word on it, he’d have to say she looked. . .
Guilty.
As if she’d made the impossible possible with just the power of her mind. As if she’d saved his life—no, “guarded him from death”—just as she’d promised she would.
Holy mother of Christ. She was a guardian angel!
He scrambled out of the wiring as fast as he could and raced down the incline. His heart was still thundering from the adrenaline, from the fear, from surviving the freaking impossible. He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to catch his breath.
“Did you do that?” he panted.
She didn’t answer, but her cheeks turned a suspicious shade of pink.
“You did do it! I knew you did it! I mean, are doing it.” He glanced over his shoulder. Yep, the utility poles were still defying gravity. A crowd was beginning to form.
As if she’d just realized what he meant, Sarah’s eyes widened in alarm—then fluttered unnaturally.
The logs were once again on the move, but this time, not dangerously. The utility poles all but meandered down the incline, harmlessly coming to rest against this tree or that rock.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Jack could barely even breathe, much less think. His heart was still in hyperactive arrhythmia. “You’re an actual angel. You saved my life.”
“All in a day’s work,” she mumbled, without making eye contact. “It’s a full-time job, keeping you safe.”
He stared at her speechlessly. He was pretty sure his head was going to explode at any moment. She really was an angel. A guardian angel. Which meant there were angels. His mind reeled. So did the rest of him. He had to sit down. No, he couldn’t sit down. There was nowhere to sit. Plus he was still gripping her shoulders. Why was he gripping her shoulders? Was gripping an angel’s shoulders a sin? Oh shit, he’d kissed her. He couldn’t
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