Black Bear Rising: A BWWM Paranormal Romance (Black Bear Saga Book 1) (20 page)

Lana felt like her muscles were coiled springs bursting with kinetic energy, she tapped her foot impatiently. Everything seemed to be going so slow. She glanced around as the woman continued with her mindless chit chat. Every glance in Lana’s direction, every man wearing shades or talking into his phone while passing her by made her skin crawl. She was doing everything she could to stay rooted to the spot, her body wanted to drop her bag and run, to just run away in any direction and leave the horror behind her. The woman slid their passports and tickets across the counter to them and wished them a pleasant trip to Iceland. Immediately Lana felt better as soon as she started moving. Each step towards the departure terminal brought her closer to freedom.

A strong hand grabbed her shoulder and ice ran through Lana's veins. We have been caught her mind screamed as adrenaline flooded her body.
 

“Sorry, you left this behind you,” The voice from behind said.

She wheeled around feeling all tension from her body subside. A young guy with a tie dye t-shirt and board shorts was holding her bag out towards her. He looked shocked at the frightened look on her face.

“Sorry for startling you. You left it back there at the ticket desk,” he said smiling in the hope it would calm her down a little.

Sara thanked him and took the bag and the guy walked off looking a little bewildered.

“You have to relax a little, you look liked you wanted to kill that guy. We are safe. No one knows we are here and within a few minutes we will be on our way to Iceland and hanging out with the polar bears,” Sara said with a hand on Lana's shoulder.

“I’m sorry. Come on lets keep moving,” Lana said as they continued to the departure area.

Lana felt like she hadn't taken a breath until the wheels of the plane finally had left the earth. She let out a sigh once the the city she had called home for two years faded to a speck. Once they reached altitude and the seat belt signs bleeped off a powerful wave of exhaustion engulfed her. The events of the last few days hit her with a painful force and all she wanted to do was sleep.

“Wake me in a few hours,” she asked Sara as she tried her best to get comfortable in the barely reclining chair. Her sleep was shallow and fitful, filled with images of Gus chasing her down dark alleys with a large knife. He would fade away only to be replaced by the grey haired man whispering sweetly into her ear as his hands slowly tightened around her neck and began to squeeze the life out of her. She woke up with gasp and was momentarily confused about her surroundings. The image of the smiling grey haired man felt like it was burnt into her retinas. Sara rubbed her arm and asked her if she was ok.

“A bad dream. The man from the video,” Lana said as a shiver coursed through her.

“He’s well behind us now,” Sara said pointing at the animated map on the seat back screen, “We are less then an hour from Reykjavik.”

“Where do we go once we get there? Do you think we should stay in the city?” Lana asked.

Sara passed her an inflight magazine she had folded back on an article. The pictures showed a tiny white church sitting up on a hill over looking a small town of brightly coloured houses. The town was on a thin strip of land backed by towering rocky mountains and facing out to the grey and churning atlantic ocean. The beach was a winding belt of black volcanic sand.

“What do you think?” she asked as Lana scanned through the article. “It’s a tiny town five or six hours away from Reykjavik. We can lay low there for a few weeks until we decide what to do next.”

“Its definitely beautiful,” Lana replied, “Ive always been a city girl but I could probably do with being somewhere remote for awhile. We’ll make arrangements as soon as we land.”

“Do you think we will ever be safe,” Sara whispered.

“I don’t know. Maybe no one will come after us. We need to catch a break,” Lana said as she felt tears well up in her eyes. Even after sleeping for a few hours she still felt and exhausted and spent. She couldn't get the image of the grey haired man out of her mind, he floated like the fuzzy after image of a torch shone into your eyes. He was with her constantly and she could not shake him.

“Gus could never find us here,” Sara said in as much of a reassuring voice as she could muster. She barely believed what she was saying.

The plane left the clouds and Lana got the first look at her new home. A vast expanse of dark rocks stretched out before her. The land was pitted and buckled and covered with a thin green covering of moss. The planes intercom crackled to life and announced, “We are now flying over the great and ancient lava fields of the Keflavik area. We will be landing shortly.” As the ground spread out before Lana through the tiny plane window she thought it looked like the surface of the moon. The only thing breaking up the rocky landscape was one thin ribbon of asphalt snaking its way through the forbidding landscape. The land below looked barren and harsh as the plane lowered it’s altitude and angled towards Keflavik airport.

“I thought there would be snow,” Lana said.

“The magazine said this part of the country gets the least snowfall and what little it gets is melted by now even though the summer is pretty mild,” Sara replied.

The planes wheels dug into the tarmac as it landed and it juddered and shook as the brakes slowed the metal bird to a stop. An audible sigh went up in the cabin and a few people clapped. Lana felt a little tension leave her body, she had felt like a balled up fist the whole flight, now that she was on the ground every mile further away she got from her old life eased her nerves in tiny increments. Lana got out of her chair and stretched stiff limbed and eager to get moving. An overhead luggage compartment opened with a loud thud and Lana spun around quickly half expecting to see the grey haired man standing behind her with a gun cocked at her head. They exited the plane and headed for the bus terminal.

The traffic was light on the road to Reykjavik. At first they passed though lava fields that stretched in all directions, the black rocks were jagged and the harsh profiles were only softened in spots where a tenacious bed of fluorescent green moss clung to the surface. On the horizon great plumes of white smoke bellowed into the air from a building clad in metallic silver pipes which cast sun sparks as it fell away into the distance. People on the bus wrinkled up there noses as a strong smell of ammonia and sulphur filled the air.
 

“Ugh what is that?” Lana asked Sara.

“Hey don’t blame me,” Sara said laughing, “Its from geothermal vents in the ground, there was an article about it on the plane, I skimmed through it.”

The smell soon dissipated and the lava fields started to diminish as small pockets of life whizzed by the window. Small houses with brightly painted roofs and corrugated metal walls zipped past Lana as she rested her head against the cool window. She let the unfolding landscape wash over her, trying not to think and letting herself slip into a half awake state. Soon the bus passed through a small village clustered around a harbour packed with fishing boats. As the bus took the road away from the village, Reykjavik was visible for the first time off in the distance. From here it was nothing more than a thin line on the horizon that winked and glittered like glass beads in the sun. Once the bus hit the main road to Reykjavik signs of habitation increased as industrial areas rolled by, followed by more and more houses clustered together.

The bus idled at a traffic light and Sara pointed at a sign by the side of the road. It was a picture of a tractor with a line through it. “Do you think thats much of a problem here? Tractors zipping about on the city streets?”

“Maybe farmers are crazy in Iceland and if they didn't have that sign up they would be holding drag races throughout the city,” Lana replied.

The day was bright and clear and more vehicles seemed to be leaving the city then entering it. Traffic was slow and congested on the road leading out, going into the city centre the bus sped along on a road practically empty. Over the intercom the driver announced that they would arrive at the bus station in five minutes and then repeated the message in Icelandic.

The bus pulled into a large lot in front of a large white building with the letters BSI in bright red on the front. Sara and Lana got off the bus and stood in the bright sun for a few minutes then headed into the bright and airy bus terminal. The back wall of the building was made of glass and gave the people waiting inside a view of the planes taking off from a small regional airport situated across a protected marshland that ran along the back of the bus station. They sat down on a hard metal bench and both let out a sigh in unison.

“How are you feeling?” Sara asked.

“Like I could sleep for a thousand years. I feel like I’ve been tensing every muscle in my body from the moment we booked our tickets. I keep looking around and expecting to see Gus coming out of a crowd with a smile on his face, telling us that there is no point in running, they will catch us no matter what. Im fucking drained.”

“I feel the same, why don't you get a table over there and we get something to eat. I see a ticket desk over in the corner, I’ll go and get everything arranged for Vik,” Sara said. She squeezed Lana's shoulder and said, “We are going to make it.”

At the back of the bus terminal was a large cafeteria and Lana wandered around looking at what kind of things they had for sale. A row of fridges sold sandwiches of cold smoked lamb and peas, Icelandic soft drinks with an array of brightly coloured labels, and packets of something called hardfisker. It looked like dried strips of pale jerky. Lana lifted up a packet and sniffed it, her nose was filled with the pungent aroma of dried fish and the salt of the sea. A small label in english said it was Icelandic cod dried in the traditional outdoors method. At the back of the cafeteria was a counter serving hot food. Above it was a row of pictures displaying what was available, Lana scanned across them. There was the usual fare of pizza, burgers and fries, fish and then at the last picture her stomach did a little queasy flip. The last meal was the full head of a sheep slit down the middle. The tongue lolled out onto the plate and was accompanied by mashed potatoes and a scoop of something yellow that Lana wasn’t sure of.
 

The man behind the counter saw her lingering on the last picture and said, “Thats an Icelandic traditional dish. Sheep head with potatoes, turnips and peas. You can have it with or without the eyeball. Personally I’d recommend it with the eyes, very juicy and tasty,” he said in perfect english.

Lana’s stomach lurched again and she tried to force a smile onto her face. “I don't think I could face something like that after a long flight. Maybe another time?”

“Sure thing. Its worth a try. Are you here on holiday?” the man asked. He was tall and broadly built with short cropped hair. His eyes were slate grey and friendly.

“Yeah, I’m with a friend. We are here for a few weeks to see the sights. We are thinking of going to Vik,” She said and immediately regretted saying it that as soon as the words escaped her lips.

The young man smiled broadly and started writing something on a notebook attached by a piece of twine to the counter. He ripped off a page and handed it to her. “My parents run a guesthouse in Vik. Its very nice, mention my name and they will give you a discount. Im Gisli by the way.” He reached over the counter and Lana took his hand and shook it. “I grew up in Vik. Its a beautiful place this time of year. The birds are nesting in the cliffs behind the village, the lupin is in bloom and herds of sheep have come down from the mountains to graze. If you cant tell I love my home town,” he said as his cheeks reddened a little.

“Im looking forward to it. Do you have any other recommendations about the place?” Lana asked.

“Will you be there three weeks from now? There is a fisherman's festival on for a long weekend. There will be outdoor games, barbecues, fishing trips and on the Saturday night they will hold a ball. Everyone from the town will be there as well as people from the surrounding farms. Im going to be returning home for the festival, I never miss it.”

“Sounds pretty cool. We will have to check it out. Nice meeting you Gisli,” Lana said more abruptly than she had wanted to sound. She ordered food for herself and Gisli told her he would bring it over when ready. Lana sat at a table with her back to the wall and a clear view of the bus terminal. Groups of people with backpacks weighed down with camping gear milled about, children dodged in and out of the crowds of adults and yelped as they chased each other. A bunch of young men and women dressed in black t-shirts and combat trousers, long hair and pale faces queued at a ticket desk laughing and waving to friends on the other side of the ticket hall. Sara slid into the high backed booth beside Lana and pushed two tickets across the table to her.

“We leave in a little over an hour and get to Vik in around 4 hours,” Sara said. “The woman at the ticket desk phoned ahead and said there are rooms available at both of the guesthouses in town. I think we can relax a little now,” Sara said looking directly into Lana eyes.

“I hope so. I feel like I am going to jump out of my skin. I keep expecting Gus to pop up from some unexpected place.”

“We made it. No one knows we are here and they have no way of finding out. We can start to relax a little, I think we are overthinking Gus’s reach, he's a low life pimp and nothing more,” Sara said in her most reassuring voice. Two bright blue tray were placed on the the table by Gisli.

“Here you go ladies. Enjoy your trip and don't forget to drop my name at the guesthouse,” he said.

“Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend,” Sara practically purred. That was something that would sometimes annoy Lana when they were out together in a group, when it came to men Sara always had to be the centre of attention. She had a fiercely competitive streak when it came to the currency of male attention and she could get bitchy if she thought a woman she deemed lesser then her was soaking up some of it. Luckily she never turned her mean side towards Lana as she would not put up with that kind needy competition.