“No, they only gave me this one.” Hint, hint. Gave me. Jim knew Ashley had a very big brain. She just had to wake up enough to use it.
“Okay,” she said with a sigh, “you better keep it then. But turn it off for a sec, so my eyes can get used to the dark.”
Jim had to wonder about that you better keep it—what was she thinking…? Still, he obliged and they were plunged into the kind of moonless darkness that was suffocating in its absoluteness. It descended around him, heavy and wet against the bare skin of his face and hands.
Ashley must’ve been having the same reaction. “Shhhhhit,” she breathed, the word barely voiced.
“Let your eyes get used to it.” His own voice was a rumble in his chest as his other senses kicked in more fully. There was a raucous battle going on between tree frogs and locusts, and Team Locust was winning.
He could hear the sound of Ashley breathing, too. Her inhales were too shallow—she was breathing too fast.
“Easy,” he murmured.
“Nothing about any of this is easy,” she muttered.
“Rumor has it that Bull Edison wept and wet himself before his team leader night-hike was over,” Jim told her.
She laughed. “Telling me that is inappropriate. And mean.”
“Or I’m creating a false narrative to bolster your self-confidence.”
This time her laughter was a short burst of air but no less musical. “You mean you’re lying to keep me from weeping and wetting myself.”
“I’m convinced that weeping and wetting yourself is something that you would never do. Ever,” he emphasized as his own eyes adjusted and she turned into a dark shape standing on the road beside him.
But she sighed heavily again. “This isn’t going to work,” Ashley said.
“What isn’t?”
“I thought I could run ahead—leave you here with the flashlight. I thought if I could move fast, I could see where this road leads—if it’s an obvious route back to the camp—and then run back to let you know if I’m right. But there’s no way I can run without a light. This darkness is dizzying.”
“So take the flashlight,” he suggested.
“I’m not leaving you alone in the dark.”
“Navy SEAL,” he pointed out.
“I don’t care,” she said.
“Really, Ashley, I’ve been left alone in the dark a lot.”
“Well, I’m not gonna do that to you. Not tonight.” She was absolute, which was interesting. Apparently she was capable of standing her ground—when someone else’s comfort and safety were at risk.
He heard more than saw her shift, but was still surprised when her fingers lightly bumped his shoulder.
“Sorry,” she quickly said.
Jesus. If someone followed this woman around and recorded everything she ever said, the word-cloud created would feature Sorry smack in the middle, in a size four hundred font.
She cleared her throat. “May I have… Are you allowed to let me have the flashlight? You did say I could take it…?”
“Here. Yes.” Jim caught her reaching hand and pressed her fingers around the thing, making sure she had it firmly in her grasp before he let it and her go. Funny, her fingers were cool despite the night’s heat. Cool but not as fairy-princess soft as he’d imagined. She clearly used her hands to do hard work. Huh.
“Thanks,” she said. “Watch your eyes, Lieutenant, I’m turning it on.”
The fact that she’d thought to give him a heads-up was interesting, too. Dunk had given Jim and the other the instructors a variety of warnings about working with civilians, and the most dire involved the use of NVGs—night vision goggles. Be ready, the former senior chief had said, for some numbnuts to flip on the headlights and completely blind you.
Apparently, Ashley DeWitt didn’t fall into the typical SEAL World numbnuts subset.
And yet again, she was surprising Jim as he watched her through squinted eyes. He’d expected her to lead the way down the road in the direction that the van had driven off—at a walking pace so that he and his freaking knee braces could keep up. Instead she used the beam of the light to explore the area at the side of the road. She even shone the light up into the branches of a big banyan tree.
He laughed, and she glanced over at him so he said, “I have no idea what you’re looking for.”
“It’s going to rain,” she informed him as—right on cue—thunder rumbled. And yes, it was louder—the storm was closer—this time. “I was hoping this tree would provide at least a little shelter.”