The Third Corridor

by The third corridor (NCP) (lit)

  One, two, three, four, five…and a breath…one, two, three…

  Sera was quickly relieved when the stranger began to sputter, and then draw air into his lungs. The color slowly returned to his face.

  "Ydor..." he repeated, after gulping a few breaths of air.

  Sera hesitated, catching her breath. He’s probably dehydrated on top of everything else. He needs water.

  "Ydor to," he continued to demand.

  Sera pulled the cap from the canteen and lifted his head to give him a drink. He gagged, unable to swallow in his supine position. She tugged at his clothing and pulled him to a sit, but she couldn’t hold him upright with one hand and put the flask to his lips with the other. He attempted to take it from her, but his arm fell to his side, and his body toppled backwards. Sera slipped the strap of the container over her shoulder and moved behind him. He was nearly limp, and it took all of her might to maneuver and lift his trunk. Finally, she was able to hook her arms under his, and drag him to a nearby boulder, and she reclined against it for support, bracing him in front of her. His head dropped back. His copper colored, shoulder length hair fell across Sera’s shoulders. She brought the canteen to his mouth and he drank a modest amount of water. Sera remembered her own thirst and drank heartily. She was drenched from sweat and out of breath, but she held him tightly. His body was thick with brawn, and her arms barely reached completely around his broad chest. She felt his heart thumping furiously, as though challenging death. Sera too, could feel her own heart beating steadily against his back. She sat embracing him for a long period of time, using her bent legs and arms to hold him upright. He was silent and leaned heavily on Sera, crushing her chest. Blood from his wound soaked her sleeve and leg of her trousers. In her own weariness, Sera held no desire to move, but the muscles in her limbs began to burn so agonizingly, that she finally had to let go. Sera slipped out from behind him and managed to position him on the ground.

  Several hours passed. The sun had begun to settle in the horizon opposite to where she first observed it. Earlier, while she had the benefit of daylight, Sera attended to the large gash in his torso. It was a long slash extending over his ribs from his midline, and ending at his right side. She saw no bone or internal structures, and no muscle appeared damaged, but she found herself picking pieces of what appeared to be the remains of chain mail from it. She thought that a small nick in a vein was the likely reason for its slow, but recurrent seepage, and Sera knew he could bleed to death if she couldn’t get it to stop. She removed his upper garments, washed out the wound, and rolled his shirt to pad it. She used part of his doublet for bandages, by tearing the garment into strips, with two of the strips tied together and wrapped around him to hold the bundle of cloth in place. Apparently he had made a hasty exit from wherever it was he came, for the wound didn’t look like it had received any treatment.

  Now with that task finished, Sera had nothing much else to do. She glanced toward the area where her ship had crashed, and could no longer see any smoke. The fire must have died quickly. I was expecting more explosions. I wonder why the fuel hadn’t ignite?

  Sera attempted to replay the events leading up to her arrival on the planet, but could only muster fuzzy images through her still throbbing head. She sighed, wishing she could remember something--anything significant, as she watched the last ray of sunshine take cover below the horizon.

  Sera remained awake well into the darkening hours, fighting against sleep, not only for fear of unwanted aggressors, but also to care for the injured knight. The moon was now full and high in the sky, glowing bright enough to give some light to the darkness.

  The air had become dreadfully cold, and Sera shook with its chill. Earlier, the knight offered her a piece of flint rock from a small sash tied to his belt. Sera had a vague recollection of engaging in survival training and recognized the mineral. She gathered some dry branches and successfully built a fire, using the rock and buckle of her belt.

  Realizing the knight needed the warmth as much as she did, Sera managed to drag him closer to the flames. For the moment, she wasn’t afraid of him. He was of a little threat in his weakened state, even though he was awake and watching her, his eyes, nearly as dark as onyx--a stark contrast to his lighter hair and bronze coloring, followed her as she moved about. And despite his injuries, several times during the night he attempted to rise, but dropped quickly back to the ground.

  Loss of blood could be very inhibiting.

  It was late into the night when Sera eventually dozed off, no longer able to withstand the nagging need to sleep. When she opened her eyes again, the sky was beginning to glimmer with shades of red and orange, precipitating the release of an early morning sun. The magnificent colors outlined the massive clouds with shimmering borders, as though attempting to ignite them, but it had not yet warmed the air. The fire had settled to smoldering ash. Sera stretched and yawned. She had been sleeping sideways against the same large rock that she used earlier for support. It felt like a hard chunk of ice, and coldly slapped her body. She shivered and forced open her eyes. The pounding in her head continued. The clarity of her thoughts was improved somewhat, but not quite fully restored. How many suns had she seen rise? Was it one, or was it two? Then she remembered the knight, and cast her gaze toward him.

  Something was not right with him. She moved quickly to his side.

  His skin was cold and clammy. His lips were blue. His lids fluttered, and his eyes were rolled back in his head. His body shuddered uncontrollably, like a petit mal seizure, and it was more than apparent that his life was critically in danger. Sera ran to his charger and began searching for a blanket. A large woven sack, which hung around the pommel of the saddle, caught her attention. It was sealed shut with wax. Sera ripped it apart, thinking it might contain linen of some sort. The interior was also lined with a paraffin coating which enabled the putrid smell, now discharging from it to be preserved within, undetectable. Sera gagged with the sight of the bag’s contents, and she turned away with abhorrence.

  The bag contained a head--a human head!--sodden with blood.

  Sera shrieked and tossed it away. For the brief moment that she observed it, Sera was able to identify a nose and mouth. Dried blood matted the hair on the decapitated body part to its scalp. Frozen with disbelief, she had forgotten that the horseman was in dire trouble. She then turned to him, and for an instant, thought of letting him die. Sera could not let him die, despite what she had just discovered. Her revulsion was oddly overridden by her fear of being left alone. His presence gave her purpose.

  Turning to the horse again, Sera reached under its belly, unbuckled the girth, and struggled to throw off the saddle. She pulled the blanket from the charger’s back, rushed to the knight, and threw it over him.

  It had no affect.

  Sera stretched out on top of him hoping in vain that this would provide him with warmth. It did not. She vigorously rubbed his arms and legs.

  Nothing.

  She had no choice. Sera unzipped her jacket and removed it. Then she removed her boots, socks and trousers. As uneasy as she felt about it, Sera removed her spandex camisole and underwear. Rationality convinced her that the warmest parts of her body would provide the stranger with the heat he so badly needed. Sera then proceeded to remove the rest of his clothes. She pulled his boots from his feet and trousers from his legs as she slipped beneath the blanket. She chided herself for neglecting to cover his unclothed chest during the night. Sera stretched out on top of him, exposing as much of her warm skin to his cold flesh as she could, her chest to his chest, her legs on his, her arms spread on top of his arms. Their intimate parts touched and Sera bit her lip.

  He would be too incapacitated to notice, she hoped.

  "Please, don’t die." Her words were in his language. Sera could not fathom how she knew them but they were spoken effortlessly.

  After what seemed like an endless time, his convulsions quieted to a tremor and she could feel his chest, which was against her breasts,
ease from rapid respirations to more settled movements. His skin began to feel warm. With much relief, Sera remained on him for awhile to be sure that his body temperature was stable.

  Naked… female… flesh.

  His awareness funneled down to that one single fact, and he was immediately aroused. He hardened against her thigh.

  Uh Oh.

  Sera attempted to rise, but he clenched her wrists. Then using her arms as leverage, he raised her from his chest. He rolled and she was beneath him, her arms outstretched with his. He did not let go. It felt as though he would rip her shoulders from their sockets, and she cried in distress. His strength was mighty and with every ounce of her being she tried to escape, but she was pinned and powerless. Sera looked up at him. His eyes were glassy and bloodshot. He appeared disoriented and seemed to be looking through her, not at her.

  "My blood with your blood," His voice hoarse but fervid. Again she understood the foreign language and this time the words caused her to shudder with a fear so great she could not scream.

  "Let me go!" Sera begged. Her body, her life was at his mercy. His lips came crashing down against hers as he pressed his hips to her pelvis. Cripes! The man was huge. She squeezed her legs tightly together as he attempted to nudge her thighs apart. A losing battle.

  Shit! Teeth down there would be so useful right now.

  She bucked upward but realized her mistake immediately. He merely pressed his weight harder into her and she felt his member thicken even more.

  Sera willed her body to relax. Fighting it would only increase the discomfort. But when his mouth moved lower to suckle her breast, she seized anew, and released an escalating and shrilling cry.

  Sera squeezed her eyes shut. Penetration was imminent.

  But then, all movement stopped. He went still.

  Was it over?

  Sera did a quick analysis of her body. No, he hadn’t entered her. She opened her eyes. He was staring down at her, a stunned look on his face as he observed her terror stricken expression. His entire body shuddered as he fought for restraint. He blinked several times, then rolled away from her and onto his back, his chest rose up and down with great ardor. Sera wasted no time. She jumped to her feet and grabbed her clothes. She quickly put them on as she fled from him, running towards the stream, but her foot caught a rock. She tucked her chin to protect her face but was unable to bring her arms up in time. She stumbled into the trunk of a tree, slamming her forehead in the process.

  "Ugh!" she bellowed. The collision was hard enough to cause her to rebound, and then fall forward again. Sera grabbed the trunk, and slid downward. The bark snagged the shirt she wore beneath her jacket. She scraped the skin on her face and chest as she slithered ungracefully to the ground. Sera continued to grasp the tree, dazed by the impact. She attempted to organize the chaos in her head, but the jolt that rocked her brain earlier, along with this new collision, only served to enhance her foggy thoughts. She was completely rattled and discomposed.

  Sera twisted around and sat, leaning against the tree.

  The stranger’s charger had followed her and kept pushing at her with its snout.

  "Leave me alone." Sera pushed the muzzle of the horse away from her, but it annoyingly kept nudging her.

  "Get lost." She shoved the snaffle of the horse even harder. The horse snorted, spraying her with snot.

  "That’s just perfect," Sera grumbled while wiping the mucus from her face. "Thanks so much."

  She rose from the ground and staggered to the stream. When she glanced back the charger was just behind her. She took off her jacket and leaned forward to splash her face.

  Could this day get any worse?

  Oh yea of little faith.

  It could.

  The horse bumped Sera’s bottom causing her to fall face first into the water. Sera pulled her body upright, gagging from the water that invaded her mouth and nostrils. Her wet hair was plastered in strands about her face. Sera angrily dragged herself to the bank, turned to the animal, and stood nose to nose with it. The creature licked her face, covering her with slime again. Sera stood defiantly with her hands on her hips.

  "Ya know horse." She poked a finger at him. "I am feeling quite hungry right now...horse."

  She leaned in closer. "In fact, horse, I am hungry enough to eat, well... a horse!"

  The horse stood its ground, undisturbed by Sera’s threatening look.

  Great, just great! She was being harassed by a horse now!

  Sera dropped her head and almost smirked--almost. Her situation bordered on ridiculous. She could make an easy escape if she hopped up on the animal and took flight, but she had no idea where to go. Besides, the beast would probably return to its master and dump her at his feet with a mocking nicker and a snort. She stroked the horse’s mane, wondering if it would allow her to ride it bare back. The animal was very large. If it bucked and threw her, she might have to add broken bones to her growing list of injuries.

  Not a pleasant thought.

  Sera touched the area above her right eyebrow to assess the damage. The abrasions covered the corner of her forehead and the area around her temple. She knew a bruise was likely beginning to form. She stretched and flexed her back. Yep, scrapes there too, those from trying to wiggle from beneath the savage when he was on top of her.

  Sera was a mass of abraded flesh.

  She gazed through the trees again. There was still no sign of him, so she decided to wash. Wearing only her undergarments, she dipped into the cool, rushing water, but did not dare linger within its cleansing embrace. She was frightened at the moment, but not hysterical.

  A regimen of protocol tapped along her brain.

  Observe, anticipate, communicate, negotiate.

  She was comforted by the simple detail of knowledge, a strand of hope that tied her to a life she could not recall. Sera was a military educated officer, conditioned to handle hostile situations. It was likely the reason why she wasn’t much offended by his attempt to rape her. She was exceedingly miffed at herself, however. It was a clear misjudgment on her part. True, he was incoherent, but she should have anticipated the chance for an attack. She was mostly disturbed that she had let down her guard in a moment of expedience to save his life. Blame that one on her present state of jumbled brain wave patterns.

  I need to get a grip and think this thing through.

  Sera emerged from the stream and sat in a small patch of sunlight peaking through the forest greenery. She combed her fingers through her hair.

  Horse had deserted her. Likely, it returned to its savage master. Well, it was idealistic to think that she could get very far on foot. She pondered her unfavorable position, and concluded that she should remain with the horseman--if he hadn’t already abandoned the campsite. She convinced herself of several rationales as to why this was her best course of action. First, he was presently incapacitated by his injuries and for the moment at least, would be of little threat, as long as she kept her distance. Okay, so the head in the bag was a serious consideration. She was however, in a strange and obviously archaic world, and his possession of the thing did not necessarily correlate to evil doings.

  Did it?

  Sera would file that one under Review at a later date, and her latter thought, that he might be a coroner, she would store under Dumb rationales for having a head in a bag. Next, she regarded her momentary lapse in sensible thinking. It also could have been a gross misunderstanding on his part as well. After all, he was disoriented and near death with a naked woman lying on top of him, one who had just finished rubbing him. He did gain his wits before he lost complete control. That behavior was promising. Third, any threat that this stranger posed might not even compare to the dangers in the land beyond. Finally, her most definitive reason was that she did not know the terrain and she was stranded. Escape was an option only once she assured herself that she wasn’t going to end up in a bigger mess than the one she was in now. Sera stood and brushed herself off. What she needed to do was communicate wit
h him, to negotiate a compromise about her situation, and convince him to help her. Sera rolled her head and shoulders in an attempt to throw off the humiliation, the pain and the isolation she was feeling. She returned to the camp refusing to be intimidated.

  She decided that puffing out her chest in a demonstration of pride was not a good idea.

  Sera found the stranger where she left him. He was sitting on the dirt leaning with one arm on a bent knee, and shaking his head as if he were attempting to regain his faculties. Her brave affront withered. She was suddenly very intimidated by his nearness, and his overpowering masculinity. He had a warrior’s body, large and finely honed by practice of his skills. Sera allowed her eyes to briefly flick to his muscular chest and rippling abdominal muscles, covered only by the wound dressing. Just the right smathering of coppery male hair graced the front of him, converging just below his rib cage to a straight, darker line that descended and plunged below the waist of his pants.

  Sexy.

  It was the first word that popped into her head. Her heart fluttered.

  Oh god!

  Appalled by her unexpected reaction, she mentally threw down her misplaced libido and stomped it into the dirt. She would not permit the notion to wander any further, and was relieved that he had donned his trousers.

  She did not want to look at that part of him.

  Their gazes met and locked. Sera narrowed her eyes.

  Dare come near me and I will cut off your…

  Her warning expression was unmistakable, and he was perplexed momentarily, at the look she gave him, until awareness of what he had almost done to her struck him. He shut his eyes and wrenched his face as he gripped the realization of his actions. He had no recollection of the sensation of it, though the imagery of the occurrence was clear.

  It was an unspeakable act.

  He opened his eyes, and watched her side step toward the dagger still in the belt he wore earlier. Her wary gaze fixed with his. She removed the blade from the sheath and took a position several lengths away from him, where she sat with her arms wrapped around her bent knees, dagger in hand.