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in. The darkness danced with despair, and I
realized that these feelings were not coming from within. Trying to
re-evaluate the sensations, I tightly closed my eyes willing myself
calm. How could this be possible? Breathing in the cold kept the
black fringes of unconsciousness from claiming me.
    “I wonder what fraternity he belongs to?” A
muffled voice drifted through the haze of pain.
    “Twenty bucks says he’s just drunk,” said the
tallest of the three.
    His insolent tone snapped the hill back into
focus, and I realized that they were huddled over someone on the
ground. A small part of my consciousness noted a normal person
would run away. But then I realized a normal person wouldn’t think
they were being assaulted by emotions that weren’t their own.
    “Do you think he has any money?”
    The stranger swam in and out of focus as
agony riddled my body. An innate compulsion to protect welled deep
within. I trudged forward, and the crunch of my boots on the frosty
grass announced they were not alone. The tallest man turned and
smirked.
    “Hey Blondie, where are you going in the wee
hours of the morning?”
    Squaring my shoulders and completely ignoring
him, I turned to his friend. “How long has he been lying there? Is
he all right?”
    “Who knows? Who cares?” he laughed, as the
other two joined in.
    “Don’t worry sugar,” the first insufferable
man took a step closer. “I’m sure he’s just sleeping off last
night’s party.” I became acutely aware that my jeans hugged in the
right places. The familiar stench of excessive alcohol, so
ingrained in my childhood, slapped my face.
    Anger swelled, both from inside and out,
making my temper flair. I didn’t like jerks, and I really hated men
who thought they were God’s gift to women. But I was also aware I
was in a sparsely populated area, and the men were too close for
anyone to consider me safe. I bit down the retort about where he
could shove his sugar and counted to ten.
    “My boyfriend went to call 911 while I ran
over here.” He sneered at the obvious lie. “Maybe you should stay
to help give the police a better understanding of the situation,
since you were first on the scene,” I suggested. The atmosphere
immediately changed from smug to uncomfortable.
    “That’s all right, s’all good,” said the
pick-up artist, and they quickly made their escape.
    I watched them scurry away like rats. Purples
and blues warmed the mountains, as the light of a new day etched
its way across the horizon. Adrenaline rushed through my veins; my
pulse pounded in my ears. I must have been more frightened of the
three drunks than I realized.
    Finally, I had the opportunity to observe the
person on the ground. My heart stopped. I knew those broad
shoulders anywhere.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     
    Chapter
4—Phenomenon
     
    “Gavin?” I whispered in horror. He was face
down and his arms and legs were splayed out as if he had dropped
unexpectedly. I ran and knelt by his side, silently praying he was
all right.
    “What happened to you?” A sob broke from my
chest. Weak and shaking, I leaned over his body and grabbed his
hand, desperately feeling for a pulse.
    Electricity started where our palms met and
ran up my arm. I calmed myself by concentrating on the sensation.
The center of my chest felt very warm, as if a light were shining
deep within. Despite the cold, his wrist was almost hot to the
touch. Relief flooded through as my fingers found a steady
rhythm.
    The sun peeked through the mountains, and the
campus had taken on its glow of hope. Inhaling deeply, the sense of
panic receded. I gently pushed the hair from his forehead.
    “Are you hurt?” I asked, hoping there was
some logical explanation for all of this. An external feeling of
sorrow and a strong desire to protect washed over me. These did not
slam painfully into me as before, but seemed to gradually seep into
my being, like a warm blanket on a frigid day.
    “I am not mortally wounded.