by C.L. Bevill
* * *
Groggily, I perceived that someone was talking about me. “…Not running another fever?”
“No,” came a female voice. “No, she’s just tired. Poor little girl.”
“Little girl,” the male voice repeated thoughtfully. “How old do you think she is?”
“Sixteen? Seventeen?” There was a pause. “You didn’t think about that?”
“No.” The answer was short and gruff.
“Well, you should.” There was a sigh. “Oh Lord, I feel like a den mother.”
“What do you mean by that?”
There was an amused huff of air. “You’re a smart kid, Zach. You can figure it out. How the heck old are you anyway?”
“I’m twenty-one,” he said mildly, apparently surprised by the question.
“Going on fifty-six,” Kara laughed. “Don’t sweat it, sweetie. I’m sure all will work out.” She made another noise that could mean anything and then added, “As these things usually do.”
“Seriously,” Zach said off to the side somewhere. “Is she all right?”
“I think so,” Kara affirmed solemnly.
I yawned so hard my jaw popped. When I opened my eyes, they were both in front of me. I was in bed again. I had been so tired I hadn’t felt Zach carrying me into another empty house. I turned my head and saw a broad window overlooking the sea. The sun was starting to dip into the sea with accents of brilliant orange and effervescent purple. The other direction was a broad window overlooking a windblown seaside forest. “Nice house,” I said quietly. This was a rich someone’s coastal retreat. It had silk sheets and so much glass that a maid would have had the shakes simply looking at it.
“Sophie,” Zach said knelt beside the bed and looked me in the face. I blinked tiredly at him. “How do you feel?”
“Really tired,” I replied honestly. “It’s hard to keep my eyes open. Can I have some water?”
Kara got me a glass and let me sip it while I was propped against the pillows. “Nothing’s popped loose, right?” she said. “You were crying. Were you in pain, hon?”
“I don’t think so,” I said as I carefully rotated the injured shoulder. It didn’t feel worse, just a little sore. I was simply bone tired, and my body was trying to catch up. “Don’t worry, guys,” I whispered as my eyes started to close again. “I think I’m okay. I’ll do better tomorrow.”
I felt them adjust my body in the bed. I couldn’t bring myself to care much. They tucked me in and then one of them lay down beside me. Lips brushed over my forehead and arms gathered me into a warm embrace.
Then an impenetrable blackness came upon me as I slept.
