No Escape by Julie Moffett

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

Lexi Carmichael

 

“Oscar!” I shrieked, stumbling backward. “They’ve swarmed you.”

Although his head was covered with bees, he must have been able to hear, because he began waving his arms even more urgently. I presumed that whatever he had planned, Oscar must have spooked the bees so that they began attacking him, swarming his head and shoulders. He couldn’t speak and the best he could do was grunt at me, clearly in desperate need of help.

There wasn’t time to run back to the castle. He might be dead by the time I returned with help. It was up to me to save my father-in-law.

“Hold on,” I said as bravely as I could. “I’ll save you.” Although my hands were shaking violently, I looked around for a tool or something to get the bees off him. Several steps to my right, I found a dead branch about five feet long. The branch was about an inch thick, and at the end it had several smaller branches growing out of it with a few small, dry brown leaves attached. It would be perfect to shoo the bees off his head and keep me at a mostly safe distance. I had to get a grip on the fact that I’d probably get stung. But I couldn’t leave him at the mercy of the hive.

I grabbed the branch and turned back toward Oscar. When I saw him on his hands and knees, most likely succumbing to bee venom, I almost passed out.

“Hang on.” Brandishing the branch in front of me and giving myself an internal pep talk, I approached him and the bees.

To his credit, he must have sincerely cared about me, because he leaned back on his knees and tried to wave me away. It was unbelievable. He was dying from a bee attack and yet his instinct was to protect me.

Determined, I stepped closer, raising my branch carefully over Oscar’s head, intending to brush the branch near his face to scare away the bees, so he could breathe again. But as I started to lower the branch, I felt a tickle on my right forearm. Looked down, I saw a bee had just landed on it.

Swallowing a shriek, I jerked my arm back, dropping the branch directly onto Oscar’s head with a thud, knocking him to the ground.

A cloud of bees scattered from his body, so I did what any self-respecting bee warrior would do—I shrieked and ran, certain they were coming for me next. I was rounding the edge of the maze when I heard a call from behind me.

“Wait, Lexi, don’t run away. I’m fine!”

I turned, and to my astonishment, I saw Oscar walking a little unsteadily up the path from the hives. He was alive. Thank goodness, my blow must have knocked the bees off in time to save him. As he approached, I could see some blood dripping near his ear.

“Holy beehive. Oscar, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay. Something heavy must have dropped from a tree and hit me in the head, scaring the bees away. I had limited vision with the bees around my face, so I couldn’t see what it was.”

I stared at him, not sure what to say first. “You couldn’t see?”

“Not well. What did you think of the bees?”

“I think you’re crazy lucky to be alive. They swarmed you, Oscar. I couldn’t even see your head.”

“The bees weren’t hurting me, Lexi. I put them on my head on purpose.”

“You did what?” My heart was beating at a crazy tempo, and my knees visibly shook.

“I wanted to show you how gentle they are. I opened one of the hives and took out a small mass of them and put them on my head. I expected them to form a sort of beehive hairdo where you could see that they are harmless if you treat them with care and understanding. Unfortunately, I must have grabbed a queen, because as soon as I put the mass on my hair, many of the rest of the bees in the hive swarmed to protect her. They weren’t stinging me, but there were so many, they quickly covered my face and mouth. I didn’t want to open my mouth to try and tell you not to worry, for obvious reasons. The best I could do was grunt to let you know I was okay and to stand back while I gently removed them.”

“You put them on your head?” I repeated, still not comprehending. “On purpose?”

“Yes. I realized I must have frightened you when you screamed. Unfortunately, I tripped over a rock and landed on my knees. Then the next thing I remember, something hit me on the head. I was lying facedown on the ground, and the bees were gone. I got up and saw you running for help and realized you must have misunderstood what I was trying to show you.”

“Misunderstood,” I said weakly. “Yes, that’s what is was. A misunderstanding.”

“When I fell to the ground, a few of the bees must have been upset with being smashed, so they let me know they felt threatened. I have a couple of stings on my neck and hands, but it’s no big deal. I’ve been stung hundreds if not thousands of times. Fortunately, I only swell up for a short period of time, and my body is quite used to it.”

I sincerely needed a drink, or thirty-seven, to bring my anxiety down from the stratosphere. But we had less than thirty minutes until the next challenge, so I’d just have to figure out some way to suck it up and deal. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay” was the best I could come up with for the moment.

We were silent the rest of the way back to the castle. All the while, I argued internally with myself about whether I should tell him the truth about the branch. The in-law guidance offered no advice for this situation. It was clear that I should be honest, but it really didn’t say anything about volunteering information that might make me look like a complete lunatic.

“Lexi, stop for a second.”

Oh, crap. Could he see the guilt on my face? Or had he finally realized that I was terrified of bees and that I’d been less than forthcoming about my interest and fears? I stopped to face him, a hundred ways to apologize running through my head.

He stepped up and brushed something off my shoulder. “I think our private conversation was bugged,” he said, smiling. “Hope Mr. Bee won’t share it with the rest of the hive.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out more as a choking sound.

We made it back to the castle, and I waited until he disappeared into his room before going into mine. As I fished in my pocket for the key, I felt something move under my shirt and crawl around on my back. I froze in fear, every nerve in my body on full alert.

Holy crap. It was a bee. Maybe two. Maybe half the freaking hive.

As carefully as I could manage, I slid the key into the keyhole, my hands shaking, my breath coming so fast, I wasn’t getting any oxygen to my brain. The crawling intensified.

OMG! It was more than one bee. They were walking all over me, moving slowly up my back toward my neck and face.

The key wouldn’t turn, and I’d begun whimpering as I twisted it back and forth. Finally, the key turned, and I threw the door open with a bang.

Slash stood in the middle of the room, dressed only in his underwear and in the process of taking off his socks. A small part of my brain registered that he was changing his clothes, perhaps to something cooler than what he wore in the morning. But the rest of my brain was consumed with survival thoughts. He took one look at my face, and alarm flashed in his eyes.

“Cara?”

I was so panicked, I couldn’t speak. I kicked off my shoes and ripped my shirt, jeans, and bra off. I threw them wildly around the room.

“Bees,” I manage to hiss out between my clenched teeth as I tore off a sock while hopping around on one foot. “They’re on me, Slash. Get them off! Get them off!”

“Bees?” Slash looked at me in puzzlement before realizing the door to our room was wide-open and we were both in a serious state of underdress. He strode toward the door to close it. I heard an angry buzzing sound near my ear, and as I froze in horror, a bee buzzed around my head and landed on my shoulder. For a moment, the bee and I stared at each other before I shrieked.

“AAAAGH!” I ran toward Slash with the speed, accuracy, and determination of an NFL linebacker. “It’s on me!” I shrieked.