Mythical
Page 9
Chapter 7
Marcus awoke some time after dawn, following a night of fidgeting and glancing in the direction of his new guest. She had changed position a few times during the night, ensuring him that she was warming and hopefully, regaining her power of speech to tell him what was going on. He got up as quietly as he could, and with nothing on the floor to make noise, just soft blankets and furs piled on top each other, he was essentially silent.
He had dug his home during the height of summer, when the topmost layer of ground was thawed. The ground was so cold year-round, he could use a three-foot deep hole as a freezer in July. Marcus dug three rectangles with adjoining passageways. One was for storage and supplies, one a living area and one an access and ventilation room. The biggest of the three was the main room, built in the center of the site, with an entrance and exit of its own.
He also had an emergency exit that ran almost fifty feet, just under the surface, allowing him to escape if needed; he was mindful to keep it smaller than an average-sized polar bear, yet big enough to move through with guns and gear. Each room had a pot-bellied stove for heat and cooking; this also allowed him to keep a stove with active coals all year long. It did get warm, at times, but the need for a quick fire was always present in this part of the world.
He had arranged four makeshift ceiling doors in the ventilation room. Just branches, bows and wire tied together and hinged to act just like the bomb-bay doors on an upside-down plane. These were set together in two pairs, one on each side, supporting each other in an 'A' frame fashion.
This kept a low-profile, while providing a crude warning system for attempted intrusion; if either were disturbed when open, such as when a bear came sniffing around, touching them would cause them to fall, closing the entrance and making a loud noise. Although, he had been scared to death a few times from the wind and now only exchanged air on nicer, calmer days.
He had finally propped opened one set of doors, it could take a minute to get it just right, and was returning to the main room. He immediately noticed that she had moved again, and then she moved as he was looking on. This gave him a quick moment of panic, as his gun was closer to her than it was to him. She poked her head and terribly tangled mess of hair out from the blankets and looked around, doing a double-take upon seeing Marcus, yet not saying a word, then returning to her investigation. Then her hands went inside the blankets and were fumbling about.
“I didn't tamper with anything,” he said, his voice a little louder than intended. Damn, it's been a while since I've even talked to another person, a little rusty with the volume control... he thought.
She looked up, realizing he was telling the truth. She was obviously disoriented, but it struck him just how much she did not look afraid. Tough girl, he mused in his head. When she spoke, it was soft and warm. Chills ran up his spine. The last human he spoke to was nearly two years ago, a native at the general store in the village who had neither the time nor desire for conversation, and Marcus could not understand a thing he said anyway.
The old native had no teeth and mumbled everything; Marcus would just nod, smile and wait for the little white, numbered tabs to pop up in the cash register display window. The register looked almost as old as the ancient, wrinkled man operating it.
“I thought you were a bear,” she nearly whispered. “Who are you,” she queried, “and where the hell am I?”
“I found you on the ice,” he replied, adding, “You were almost dead.”
Without missing a beat she came back with, “You have no idea buddy...”
Marcus told her where her clothes and gear were in the ventilation room. Then he made coffee on the stove and they ate seal meat on an improvised table, as she filled him in on the details. He listened intently, stopping her periodically and asking her to be quiet for a moment, while his mind processed the information. He took mental notes and compared them as the story continued, though it didn't seem like a 'story' at all. Her descriptions and condition confirmed enough that he believed her completely.
When she was done, he nodded, got up and left the ventilation room. She didn't know what to do, still very weak and exhausted, but at least she was warm now, so she stayed where she was. She didn't know anything about this guy, although, he had not tried to kill her. He had actually saved her, which made him alright so far. He was obviously not one of them, and that was a plus too. She thought her situation might have improved, somewhat.
Marcus emerged after some time. Maddie had fallen asleep sitting up and jumped, realized where she was, then relaxed. “I've got to go take a look,” he said, and it occurred to Maddie that he had a distinct matter-of-fact tone when he talked. It was almost like he was observing and reporting on what was happening, or in this case, what was about to happen, to someone else.
She started to get up and throw off the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, but Marcus was already shaking his head. “No, I can move faster and safer on my own. You are in no shape to travel or fight, if need be, so just stay here and regain your strength. We both may need it...”
It hadn't even dawned on her that they would simply fan out and search the surrounding areas for her, and a wave of panic washed over her body. She almost jumped up to start running, while telling Captain Caveman here to try and keep up as she passed by, but then quickly realized that no one knew that she had escaped. If they had seen her, they would have found her, not Daniel Boone here. Seriously, she thought, with just a little humor, the only thing he is missing is the coonskin hat.
“I'll be back in a few hours. Stay inside and keep these closed,” he said, motioning to the 'A' frame doors overhead. “If you have to go...” he started.
“I'll use the honey bucket...” she finished for him, with a grin that lit up the dank and dark room.
The 'honey bucket' was a plastic bucket to relieve oneself in, then throw out when able, and the name was only funny until the first time it needed to be emptied. I'd hate to see the bees that come after that honey... was all Marcus could think upon his first 'emptying'.
He headed toward the emergency exit, wanting to survey the shelter and its surroundings from a distance, without being seen. As he left the room, he stopped and turned just enough to show his face to her and said, “I'm Marcus, by the way.” He felt extremely foolish for introducing himself, but felt as though he should say something before leaving. He'd forgotten most of his social skills but was pretty sure people still said 'bye', or something, before leaving.
“I'm Maddie,” almost a whisper again.
“I know,” he replied with a smile, then turned and walked out.
Maddie looked down at her coat to see her name embroidered in big, bold-white letters and smiled too.