Chapter 6: L'Oiseau Coureur
"Rrrrr."
I groaned. There was a paw on my face. A clean, fresh-smelling paw, patting me with a sense of urgency. But now was not really a good time, so I rolled over and buried my face into the softest thing that's been under my head in weeks. It was a pillow. A clean, fresh-smelling pillow. This was all terribly foreign.
Was this what it was like to die?
Was this Heaven?
Because if it was, I had a lot of repenting to do. Perhaps also more than a couple of apology cards to write to my very dear, very Catholic mother for the hard time I had given her about going to church as a kid.
But in, like, five more minutes, though. Because this bed was liiiiiit.
"Rrrrr. Ruff!" Tank insisted, pawing at the back of my head. Little man had not so little talons.
As much as I wasn't very into the idea of waking up, I shifted gingerly onto my back, recognizing the dull throbbing in my shoulders and neck as pain. There were these beautifully crisp linens surrounding me; they rustled with the motion, releasing into the air a subtle hint of lavender. My eyelids fluttered open to the defocused and lazily spinning blades of a ceiling fan. Briefly, I wondered if all of this end of the world nonsense had been a dream.
Tank's nose barged eagerly into my entire field of vision, followed by his ears and eyes. He barked happily, directly into my face, way more than once.
God, I loved that annoying little bastard.
Reaching up to lavish him with head-scratches, I began to survey wherever the hell I was.
"Oh!" Someone called out from beyond the door. "You're awake!"
The woman who peeked sheepishly into the room introduced herself as Denise. She seemed exceptionally happy to see me. Frankly, I had no idea why, but it didn't seem polite to interrogate someone who had been (presumably) doting on your every need while you lay there, lifeless and consuming resources for x amount of hours. Or, as was evident from the growth on my legs, days. Really, really needed to take a razor to these sticks. Impending doom was not an excuse for looking sloppy.
"I'm clean," I observed aloud. My tactfulness is matched only by my devastating charm, to be honest.
I was astonishingly clean, in fact. My skin was spotless and soft, something it hadn't been for quite some time. All of the small wounds on my hands had been tended to with care. My fingernails had been scrubbed and manicured thoughtfully; from the looks of it as I stole a glance down, my feet and toes had met a similar and equally enchanting fate. Whoever these people were, they devoted ample time to my well-being, which was a level of hospitality and good nature that I hadn't encountered since leaving the Caribbean.
"I-" Denise paused. She appeared to be fairly uncomfortable, wringing a cloth in her palms. "I hope you don't mind. The girls and I- well, we wanted to get you cleaned up so we could make sure we weren't missing anything important." Her eyes were burning a hole into something that must have been really captivating on the baseboard.
Not that I expected anyone to know this, but more people have seen me naked than have seen me with clothes on for the latter portion of my adult life.
Did she really think I would have been upset that someone took the time to haul me into a bath?
"Thanks," I flashed her a smile and wiggled my fingertips. "The nails are a nice touch."
Her laugh was small and conscientious.
"May I?" She asked on a timid approach further into the room. From her demeanor, I could surmise that these people, or at least Denise, hadn't seen too much of the Badlands. Nor did I think they were privy to the types of savages that have been running through it as of late. If they had, I doubt they would be so awkwardly warm and accommodating.
"F'sho'." What else was I going to say? 'No, lady who made sure my strange ass was alive, you may not'?
As if I would.
Tank was pleased to see her. Then again, he always did like the chicks just a little more than he liked the dudes. Denise gave him some love before inspecting the bandages around my shoulders and chest. Measuring whichever of the vitals she could, she threw in a couple of professional-sounding questions; none of which, thankfully, were personal. What struck me about wherever we were was the acute lack of equipment at her disposal. Though it did make a whole lot of sense, considering my new digs appeared to be the second story of an exquisitely appointed house rather than a hospital or reasonable facsimile, it gave me the impression that they were not very well-equipped. Whether it was due to a lack of people or a lack of immediately available cities to pilfer was another matter entirely.
On the upswing, at least they lived with a little style. Even if I couldn't understand why anyone, anywhere, would choose a life this far into the Dead Zone, the finishes in the room were luxurious enough to suggest that they had a solid home base. There was electricity and potable running water, which was a feat in and of itself. The floor was a deeply stained hard wood, and the moldings were complete from floor to ceiling. Not to mention this bed being the single greatest bed I have ever slept on. And I stayed at the Waldorf Astoria once.
Prior to her slightly awkward exit, Denise advised that I stick close to bed. Something about the antibiotics occasionally making people a little high. It didn't sound like a bad time. In fact, I hadn't been under the influence of anything since this whole thing started, so if I had to trip my face off on Levaquin, that was actually one hundred percent cool with me.
She mentioned that she had taken temporary residence downstairs in the event that I needed anything, and encouraged me to annoy, bother, or otherwise distract her as much as I saw fit. Throughout the course of the morning Tank and I intermittently napped to some good, old-fashioned jams. On occasion, the sound of people snooping around the front garden came and went, enough to rouse Admiral Tank into guardian mode. For those that were brave enough to knock or ring the doorbell, Doc turned all of them away. I wasn't sure what I had done to fall into her favor, but it was comforting to know that I wouldn't have to deal with facing the overtly friendly townspeople just yet. Especially not with this horrendous white nightie.
Somewhere around noon, there was a soft tapping on the bedroom door. I had been sitting on the windowsill, peering over the edge of this incredibly weird settlement and into the forest, signaling for Ry through the open window. You could ask me if I was expecting to find her, and I wouldn't be able to answer. Hoping to hear a callback echo from across the heavily wooded distance wouldn't be the death of me, but giving up most definitely would. And giving up on her just wasn't something I was ready to do. Not right now. Not until I found her in that clinic myself.
My hands fell from around my mouth, interrupting the cadence of our homing call. I drew the billowing white gown closed over my battered, but still smokin', mummified bod.
"Still kickin', Doc." I reassured Denise over my shoulder.
"But are y'decent?" Not Denise asked through the door, surly and grey.
Arrow Man's voice triggered the vague memory of being cradled in an ice bath. It was some time after we got into the gates of Alexandria. The entire world had gone white before I'd even hit the floor. But he had been there with me, holding me like some kind of fragile, porcelain doll. Like I was the last person left on this green and soulless earth. All of his clothes were soaked in freezing cold water, but he wouldn't leave me in there on my own. How a man with a heart like that made it this far, I hadn't a fucking clue.
But I owed him my life, and I owed it to him at least twice. Once for the arrow through the walker by the ladder, and once for bringing me here.
"Might be."
Completely unfazed, Arrow Man walked through the door. In one hand, he had flowers. In the other, he had food.
'Helloooooo, nurse,' I quipped internally, closing my slack jaw and standing up as he approached.
I might actually fucking miss this place when I leave.
AN: Big-ups to everyone that left reviews, and thank you to those that are following! I hope you enjoy the rest of the ride as much as I'm enjoying writing it.
As always, feedback of all kinds is welcome. This is my first piece in ages, and the only one I've written from a rotating first-person perspective, so give me a shout if you have some advice!
