Saving Her

by Mia Ford

  “Oh, it’s not that bad. You still have a head…”

  The man sat the First Aid kit on the table next to the bed and opened the box. He pulled out a small mirror and handed it to me.

  “See? It’s just deep,” his voice seemed moderately more understanding, for only a minute before he observed me looking at myself and rolled his eyes. “Women…” he muttered.

  I didn’t take offense to it though, because I was too busy looking at the changes in my face.

  He was right. All and all, it wasn’t that bad, but I did have some bruising, a busted lip, and a lot of dried blood in my hair.

  The crimson stains were stark against my blond hair and made me feel slightly ill.

  “Thanks,” I answered, when I didn’t feel like studying myself anymore.

  The man took the mirror back and replaced it in the case, before carefully starting to remove the gauze that was around my head.

  “When you feel better, you can take a shower,” he offered, this time in a kinder tone. “There’s a bathroom over there, but I wouldn’t recommend it right now, considering I don’t want you to start bleeding again…or hurting your ankle any worse than it is.”

  I nodded but felt slightly lightheaded as the pressure of the bandage released.

  Again, I felt slightly sick. I swayed slightly, and I felt the man’s hand settle sternly on my shoulder, pausing until I was able to stabilize myself.

  I swallowed hard, realizing how raw my throat felt. I winced.

  “I’m going to keep going now, okay? You might feel weird, especially if it starts to bleed again, but don’t worry, I’ll pack that fucker good.”

  I chuckled nervously, “Thanks.”

  When he didn’t respond, but I felt him meddling with the back of my head again, I closed my eyes and focused on being anywhere but here. I thought that would help me, if I started to feel sick, but unfortunately, when I closed my eyes, I saw the crazy guide’s face, glowering at me with those eyes.

  I still didn’t remember much about the man or exactly what had happened, but I remembered those eyes. They were like glaciers, piercing into my soul. They were dead, cold, and cruel.

  I hoped I never encountered eyes like that again.

  “Are you cold?” The man’s voice broke through the memory, as my eyes popped opened and I looked at him. “Whoa!” He called, backing away, “You realize that your head is open, right? If I fuck this up, your brains could fall out or something! Just speak. What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry,” I answered, returning my head to the position which he had put it in so that he could patch up my gash. “How does it look?”

  “It looks…like you got your head bashed in with a rock,” he answered in a deadpan, slightly aggravated tone.

  “Is it still bleeding?”

  “No,” he replied in a gruff tone, “But honestly, it would look better if it was. I think I see your skull.”

  “Ewww…” I answered, instantly feeling the color that had managed to return to my face drain out of it again.

  “Nope, just gauze…” He replied, and I felt him pick something out of the back of my head, weaving it through my hair.

  It didn’t matter. The damage was already done. I felt like I was going to be sick.

  “Please don’t throw up,” he answered, “I wish I had some anesthetic…”

  “It’s okay,” I answered, “It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

  “It wouldn’t be for you,” he retorted in a gruff manner that made me wonder if he was attempting dry humor, or if he was simply being an ass.

  “Oh…” I answered, not quite sure how else to respond.

  “So, when you shook, why was that?” He asked, more pointedly this time. “Are you cold?”

  “No. I just…” for an extremely brief moment, I contemplated explaining how I felt and that I continued to see the man’s eyes, but before I spoke, I thought better of it. “It was nothing. Just a chill.”

  “Okay. Don’t zone out on me and if you feel anything, please tell me. I am not a doctor. I can’t tell you if what I’m doing will make your head fall off. I don’t think it will, but you never know.”

  “Yeah, heads are funny like that,” I replied, trying to match his dry…whatever it was, but he didn’t respond, which I found kind of strange.

  Maybe he isn’t joking… I thought, which made me feel slightly uncomfortable, though I resisted the urge to shiver.

  For the next few minutes, he worked on cleaning and rebandaging my head in silence.

  I endured it for as long as I possibly could but eventually, I decided that it would be a good time to start a conversation, if only to get me out of my own mind.

  “So, what’s your name? My name is Carrie,” I offered, trying to sound as friendly.

  “My name is Johnathan,” he retorted, almost angrily.

  “Oh, well, do you like to be called Johnathan, or John? Or Johnny?” I grinned, trying to show that I was attempting to playfully tease him, but he leaned his head around to my face, specifically to glare at me.

  “Do I look like a Johnny to you?” He insisted and, in that moment, unless it was a rendition of The Shining, no. He didn’t.

  Holy shit…I jumped out of the pan and into the flames! This guy’s just as crazy as the guide. I thought but tried to remain calm. If this guy was teetering on the edge of his own sanity, I wanted to keep him from figuring out that’s what I thought about him.

  “Um…Johnathan it is, I guess,” I answered, trying to keep a sense of positivity and lightheartedness to my conversation.

  Although, he didn’t reciprocate, he apparently finished with my wound and cleaned up the First Aid kit.

  Afterward, he went to the sink, washed his hands, and turned, grabbing something off the top of the fire. Carefully, he brought it over to the small, makeshift kitchen. He poured something into a bowl and delivered it over to me.

  As he neared me, I could smell a roast, with broth, like a soup. I wasn’t sure what it was, but the prospect of food, even before he said anything to me, made my mouth water and my stomach growl.

  At this point, I didn’t care much about what it was; it smelled delicious!

  “Here, it’s soup. It’s got vegetables and meat, to help you heal. You’ve been here a day and haven’t had anything more than one cup of tea. The last thing you need is to be fighting dehydration, hunger, and trying to heal.”

  I took the bowl from him readily and grinned, “Thank you.”

  Taking food from him right now wasn’t any kind of concern, especially since I knew he was right. I was never going to get anywhere if I didn’t regain my strength.

  Instead of sitting on the bed like I vaguely remembered him doing when we first met, he grabbed a stray chair, which was propped up against the wall and straddled it backwards as he sat, at a distance, away from me.

  Again, I thought this was odd, but I tried to convince myself he was trying to give me room to eat; not treating me like I had The Plague.

  I ate the soup, barely even tasting it. The parts that I did pause to enjoy were good, but I was far too hungry to care about taste.

  He didn’t say anything while I ate, but he stared at me curiously. It was almost as though he was trying to gather information from me but didn’t want to ask.

  “I’m sorry,” I answered when I was finished, gingerly placing the bowl next to me on a wooden nightstand. “I’m just so hungry…”

  “I live in the woods. Do you think I give a fuck how you eat?”

  The reaction was a bit harsher than intended for the context, which made me pause, but I didn’t say anything else. I had the feeling I was upsetting him, but I didn’t know why.

  Maybe he simply didn’t like that I was here, or perhaps there was a different reason altogether but whatever it was, I still thought his actions were weird.

  Nevertheless, I chuckled and pretended his rash reaction didn’t affect me.

  “I guess you have a point.”

  “How’s yo
ur ankle? I don’t want to move it if I don’t have to. The swelling looks better now.”

  “It hurts a little,” I answered honestly, but nothing too bad.”

  “Good,” he was quiet for a moment, before speaking abruptly, “So, what were you doing out there with that guy?”

  “I…uh, hired him as a guide,” I answered, feeling my cheeks redden as I looked away from him. In hindsight, all the warnings seemed blatantly obvious, which made me feel extremely self-conscious when I answered Johnathan.

  “Why didn’t you go with someone else? I mean, I get hiring a guide, but why wouldn’t you bring someone along?”

  Even though I knew he was right, considering all the warnings had come true, I still felt myself getting slightly defensive. “Well, I don’t know…It was a last-minute thing…I didn’t have anyone to go with me. My circle is small…And, what does it matter anyway? I thought I could have more faith in people than apparently you and everyone else.”

  “Yeah, well, I think what you did was fundamentally stupid,” he hissed, obviously without caring whether it hurt my feelings or not. “I mean, it’s one thing to have faith in humanity, but it’s another thing to go out into the mountains for this long, with someone you’ve never met before, especially being that you’re a woman. You should be a little smarter about your decisions.”

  Now, I was downright insulted. What right did he have to tell me what to do?

  “Wow!” I countered heatedly, unable to stop myself before I demanded, “What? Do you think I deserved what happened to me? Just because I did something you think I shouldn’t have, is that an excuse?”

  “What?” Johnathan hissed, this time, physically reacting, pushing himself back in the chair. It was obvious that he was angry at the accusation. “Do I strike you as that kind of an asshole? Damn,” he shook his head and grumbled, “I don’t think you deserved it. If I thought you brought this on yourself, I sure as hell, wouldn’t have risked my ass saving yours. All I’m trying to say is that you were a fucking idiot to go off in the mountains alone with a guy you didn’t know.”

  I returned a blank stare, mouth agape as I tried to contemplate all that he had said to me.

  Pushing himself up from the chair, Johnathan huffed and turned his back to me, “I’m going to get some air. I’ll be back,” he hissed as he reached the door.

  Without another word, he yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind him, leaving me and the dog alone in the cabin.

  Chapter 6:

  Johnathan

  What the fuck was that all about? I thought to myself, shaking my head as I stomped away from the cabin. She thinks I think she deserves it. Just like a woman.

  Even though I was angry and slightly hurt by the accusation, I was more upset by the fact that she had done something that was undoubtedly proven to be stupid. She seemed to be an intelligent person, which made me wonder why she would even contemplate something like that, much less go through with it.

  Why do I give a shit? I wondered after brooding for a few more paces. The thought caught me short, but it was at that moment I realized that Jake wasn’t with me.

  Usually, the dog was a fixture at my side, but now, about a hundred yards away from the cabin, I was all alone.

  Normally, he loved to go for a walk, so I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t right there by my side. He usually wasn’t the least bit affected by my outbursts, since he had seen me through the worst of my depression, so I was sure he wasn’t afraid of me.

  So, curious, I stomped back over to the cabin and looked in the window.

  Before I reached it, I heard Jake’s paws hitting the floor, before his playful bark erupted from inside the cabin.

  When I looked through the window, I saw Carrie and Jake playing together. She was throwing a stick he had brought her, and he made a big deal about getting the stick in the small space.

  After a few turns of her throwing the stick to him, he jumped up on the side of her and started to lick her face.

  Carrie erupted in laughter, petting the dog, while trying to free her face from his playful kisses.

  “Damn traitor,” I mumbled, though I couldn’t help but wonder if the dog was trying to tell me something.

  He was usually a good judge of character, which made me feel even more guilty for what I had said to the woman.

  Huffing, more out of frustration and confusion, still unsure of why I cared so much, I turned and started to walk by myself, before either of them noticed my leering.

  I walked the familiar mountainside, hastily finding the place where Carrie was attacked. Taking a walk around the perimeter, I tried to piece together everything I had missed the night before. I wanted to make sure that I didn’t miss anything again and if there was something that I thought I might need, I wanted to know what it was.

  On the ground, I found shattered pieces of glass and a needle. I figured that the asshole had used this against Carrie and the idea made my blood boil.

  Stomping through the woods, now seething I walked beyond the small clearing, in the direction that the man had taken off in.

  Along the way, I noticed signs of where the guide had run.

  Not too far away, I found another clearing. In it, I found the remnants of a fire and two tents that looked to have been left behind.

  I thought it was strange that one of the tents looked like it had gotten into a fight with something and inside, I found clothing and other belongings that looked to belong to a woman.

  As soon as I opened the bag, a strangely familiar scent hit me. I scoffed at it and closed the bag.

  Slinging it over my shoulder, I searched the abandoned campsite for anything else that might be of use to me.

  In the other tent, which still looked to be intact, but equally abandoned, I found another bag. It wasn’t a hiking pack. It looked more like a medical bag that one might carry in a hiking pack.

  The rest of the pack was gone, so I cautiously, approached the bag. Picking it up, I heard glass clanking against something that I couldn’t quite pick out. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to decide whether I really wanted to know what was in the bag.

  By now, I had pieced together who had abandoned the camp, so the chance that I was going to find something in the bag was going to make me angry was high.

  However, I knew I was curious and that I probably wouldn’t stop thinking about it until I figured out what was inside.

  So, I unzipped the bag and peered inside. Immediately, my eyes searched for the glass and found a medical bottle, with over three quarters of Diazepam. Apparently, this was the tranquilizer he used.

  I ground my teeth, but continued my search, trying to think about this far more objectively than I how I was feeling.

  The next thing I pulled out was the reason the bottle made the clanging sound; an unsheathed chef’s knife was also positioned carefully in the bag.

  There was also a spool of rope, duct tape and a garbage bag.

  The horrifying implications of what the guide planned to do with this bag were almost too hard to readily comprehend.

  I drew in a deep breath, replaced the contents in the bag and left it where it was.

  I sure as hell didn’t want to be caught with this murderous bag of shit.

  When I walked out of the tent, I pressed forward, away from the cabin.

  I made it about a hundred yards away from the tents when I realized that I was tracking the man. Without even being fully aware of my rash decision, I had continued following the man’s trail, seriously contemplating ending the bastard for good.

  However, when I became conscious of what I was doing, I stopped myself, since I didn’t want to complicate anything.

  After all, Carrie was safe, so there was no need to find the man. I huffed with rage, glowering into the woods, looking for some sign of the man, to give me a reason to hunt him down.

  Although, I was sure he was already gone.

  I hoped, for my sanity and for the guy’s lifespan that I never saw him o
r had a reason to find him again. For now, I was far more concerned with ensuring Carrie wasn’t alone for too long, especially after everything I had found. With or without Jake, I didn’t completely trust that danger wouldn’t find them both if I was out for too long.

  Why is that? I thought, slightly distracted by the idea. I had no real reason for feeling such intense emotion when it came to Carrie.

  Sure, I didn’t want her to get killed by the psycho guide, but the feelings I had acquired, in such a short span of time were far deeper than simply the preservation of human life.

  After all, I didn’t care much about humans to begin with and yet, I cared about this woman.

  Between getting so angry at her decision to go into the mountains alone with the guide and the urge I had to make the man pay for what he did to Carrie, I was getting far too involved. I knew that there was a difference between saving her and doing what was necessary to get her home and falling into the trap of making her situation personal.

  On more than one occasion, I had not only thought about, but also acted upon the presumption that this was personal; that I had something to protect in Carrie.

  I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to her, but that wouldn’t have changed how I felt. I would’ve still had unsubstantiated anger against the situation and if I hadn’t at least told her how I felt, I might have done something I regretted.