A quick note to say thank you for taking the time to leave a comment. As I have said before, I really love reading them and knowing that you are still reading my story.
I'd also like to wish you a very merry holiday season, whatever you are celebrating, and let you know that I will be away and will not be posting another chapter for a few weeks. Even I need to recover from that last chapter ...
Jack sucked in a breath. Could it be true? The clouds had come back, blocking the stars and the light. He leaned in closer to look at her face. Her eyelids fluttered and she opened them and blinked slowly. His head was ringing from the gun blast next to his ear so he twisted his neck and put his good ear to her mouth. Her breathing was shallow and laboured but she was alive! Jack looked at her and was suddenly terrified that he may lose her again. What should he do? He was stricken with uncertainty and stilled, worried that any movement would cause her to die in his arms.
He felt her move and she groaned softly. He looked at her again and wailed. Phryyyneee. He was sure now she would die. He sat there rocking her, his wet cheek against hers, waiting for her to take her last breath, waiting to feel her body sink into his arms as death claimed her.
Phryne moved again, more forcibly this time and sucked in a breath with the pain. She reached up and placed her hand where it hurt and felt the lump on her head. What had just happened? She was dizzy and confused and the intense pain in her head made her feel nauseous. "Jack?" Her voice was barely a whisper. How did she get here and why was Jack crying? She groaned and gave into the pain and let her arm flop back to her body. She was tired and she wanted to sleep as she let her body relax into his arms.
Jack started to sob and pulled her closer. Phryne cried out in pain as Jack pressed into her shoulder. She was feeling less groggy now and she focussed on Jack. He was weeping and rocking her gently. She tried to remember what had just happened. She felt dazed and unfocused and she fought the urge to go back to sleep. Something was wrong, she needed to wake up and she frowned in frustration as she struggled with memories that were just past her reach. She remembered gunshot and birds and cupboards in dark places. She felt like someone had taken her memories and shuffled them; her mind now dealing her snippets of disarranged images: mistletoe, gates, kissing and grass.
She blinked a few times and opened her eyes. She was starting to feel less dizzy and groaned again with the intense pain in her head and her shoulder. What had caused the pain in her shoulder? She remembered leaning into something that was hard and cold with something tucked into her shoulder. She remembered gunshot. The wall, the shotgun! The memories returned: Frankie and Percy, Jack without a weapon. She remembered now; she had climbed the wall and pointed the gun at Frankie. The last thing she remembered was Frankie turning to her with his gun raised. He was going to shoot her. She had to know what happened and with a throbbing head she tried to sit up but Jack held her tightly.
"Jack. You're all right. What happened? Where are Frankie and Percy?" She spoke slowly and her words were slurred.
Jack stiffened and laid her down gently on the ground. What should he do? He was still panting and sweating, terrified that she would still die. He hadn't assessed her injuries, he seemed incapable of making a decision and was rigid with uncertainty. She tried to sit up but he stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders.
"Ow!" Jack quickly removed his hands, his eyes wide. "Jack, help me up." He stared at her. "Jack! Help me sit up." What was he doing? Phryne held out her left arm. He looked at her for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. He finally reached out to her and pulled her into a sitting position. Phryne's hand flew to the back of her head as the throbbing intensified from the change in position. "My head! Jack, what happened? Are you injured?"
Jack stared at her. "I, I thought you were dead, Phryne. I thought I had lost you," he whispered, his shaky voice barely audible. He sucked in a breath and hung his head.
Phryne could just make out the movement of his shoulders as he cried in the dark. She shuffled closer to him and reached out to touch him, grasping the back of his neck with her left hand to pull him closer. "It's all right, Jack", she said soothingly into his neck, I am fine, just a little sore. Are you all right? Tell me Jack, I need to know. What about Percy and Frankie? What happened? Are we safe?"
Jack stayed where he was, still crying, slowly shaking his head. Phryne moved back from him and reached out to tug at his shoulder. "JACK! You need to tell me, are we safe?" Phryne was worried now: he was in a very bad way. She was desperate to know what had happened but couldn't get through to him. She knew the signs, he was in shock and she needed to get him inside, to get him warm.
"Jack, listen to me, I'm fine, I have hurt my shoulder and I hit my head and passed out, but I'm all right. I need to get inside. I need you to help me, Jack, we both need to get inside."
She tried to stand but the pain in her head and her shoulder was almost too much to bear. She sat back down and clenched her jaw. After a short while she stood up slowly, her right hand gripping her clothes to take the weight off her shoulder. She placed her other hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she slowly pushed her way up. Her hand was balled into a fist to protect her sore palm. When she was up she reached down and gently shook him. "Jack, take me inside, we need to get inside. We need to make sure we are both safe."
Jack stopped crying and looked up at her. She held out her hand for him, as a mother would do to a young child. "Here, take my hand. I'm all right Jack, but I need to make sure you are. Come with me, Jack." She tried to sound normal but was feeling nauseous from the pain in her shoulder and throb in her head. She must have fired the shotgun and hit her head when she flew backwards, presumably from the recoil. How long was she unconscious for? She could only presume that Frankie and Percy were both dead and wondered if she had shot Frankie. She shuddered at the thought of it. Everything was coming back to her now.
Jack had stopped crying but had not taken her hand. "Please Jack. We need to get inside. I need to lie down."
Jack turned his head to look at her slowly, just making out her silhouette against the faint glow of the sky. He still couldn't believe it: she was alive. He didn't take her hand, but got on all fours and slowly pushed himself up, swaying a bit from dizziness and the slope of the ground.
Phryne was suddenly worried that he was badly injured. Had he been shot? All the more reason to get him inside. He stood beside her and she reached out to take his hand, the tips of her fingers entwined in his to protect her sore palm. She set off slowly and fought back nausea as the pain from her head and her shoulder threatened to overwhelm her. She reverted to the dreamlike state she experienced when she first came out of the room under the house.
They walked the long way to the front of the house as neither of them was fit to scramble up the wall or walk through the thick bush. Jack walked a step behind her, pulled along by her tight grip on his fingers, his ragged breathing spurring her on. They laboured up past the tree by her window and around the garden bed to the path that led to the house. They got to the car and she felt Jack slow and she turned to look at to him. He stiffened and stopped, not wanting to go any further. She followed his gaze and could just make out a body lying mostly in the garden bed on the other side of the path. Percy. She wondered if she should check for a pulse, convinced now that Jack in a state of shock may have neglected to do so but was worried that it would cause him further distress. She let go of Jack's fingers and took a few steps towards Percy. She could just see the spread of blood from his head. Satisfied he was dead, she returned to Jack.
"Not far now Jack, we have to get you inside." She stood next to him and wrapped her arm around his waist to guide him forwards, feeling him tremble. He eventually moved with her, past the post with the roses and onto the porch. She let go of him to open the door and enter the house. She was really worried now; he was clearly in a very bad way.
Phryne walked on ahead and turned on the lamp in the living room, shutting her eyes from the sudden glare of the light and the pain that it caused in her head. Jack remained by the door on the porch and she returned to gently coax him inside. As she drew him into the soft light, she gasped at his appearance and her eyes filled with tears. He was bloodied and bruised, his face swollen from Percy's fists and from crying. His hands were also covered in blood and mud and his knuckles were puffy and grazed. Phryne felt ill and she felt tears run down her face, the pressure from crying causing more pain in her head.
Jack stood there, staring blankly at the fireplace, as she looked for blood on the front of his shirt. She moved behind him and frowned at the pattern of blood on his back. She took off his shirt and gasped at the wounds and deep scratches. What had happened to him? Was he tortured? How could they do this to him? She ran her fingertips gently over his back and he flinched. She turned him to get a better look in the light from the lamp and she found several thorns still embedded in his back.
She put his shirt back on him and sat him down on one of the couches. With her hand firmly pressed to her sore head, she walked quickly to the bathroom to light the chip heater so she could run him a bath, then went to her room to get him a blanket and some aspirin for them both. Her head was still pounding and her shoulder was incredibly sore but she knew it wasn't dislocated. She knew she was lucky; she could have been shot or died from hitting her head. She knelt in front of him and wrapped him in the blanket, holding the edges together just under his chin. She put her hand on his shoulder.
"Jack, are they dead?" Jack slowly raised his head and stared at her blankly, blinking slowly. "Are they dead Jack; I just need to make sure we are safe."
He hung his head and nodded. A tear slid down his face and he raised his head to look at her. His ear was still ringing but he wasn't feeling so dizzy anymore. He was still trembling but the fog in his brain was starting to lift and he saw her for the first time since the fight. He barely recognised her: her hair was matted with mud and her face was dirty but he could see that she was covered in cuts and welts from running through the bush. He looked at her hands that were holding the blanket together. They were bloodied and raw; most of the skin had been scraped off the heel of her palms. He frowned as he reached out to push her hair from her face, gently tracing her scratches. He had flashes of horror, of stones and eyes wide with panic and he remembered looking for her after she had left him alone and run back to the house. Despite all that had happened, it was the image of her crumpled body that was causing him to tremble. His eyes welled up again and he shut them tightly; he just couldn't stop crying. He sniffed loudly and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.
He opened his eyes again and took in his surroundings. Phryne was still kneeling in front of him, watching his every move. He was warmer now and he felt like he was being slowly pulled back to the present. Being swaddled in a blanket and sitting in the soft glow of the lamp in the lounge room had soothed him and he started to relax a little. The empty couch beckoned him, and he decided he wanted to lie down and fall asleep with his family around him in front of the fire. He slowly lay down on the couch and put his bloodied and sore head on a cushion. Phryne worked quickly to take his muddy shoes off, letting him do what he needed to do, the bath could wait. He sighed as he closed his eyes and balled his swollen hands into loose fists, which he tucked under his chin.
Phryne got off her knees and sat on the lounge with him. She lay her arm along his body in a grotesque parody of the time she was pressed up against him three nights ago, looking longingly at his handsome features. Now she sat with him and cried, trying to avoid looking at his bloodied and beaten face. She was exhausted and also wanted to lie down but there was work to do. There were bodies outside and as much as she hated them for what they had done, she couldn't leave them there overnight: they would be mauled by animals.
She slowly shook her head as she cried. She wanted someone to soothe her, to help her help Jack. She felt alone and isolated and although she was in no state to do it, she would have to leave him and somehow drive into town and alert the police. She listened to his ragged breathing and felt the tremble in his body and she started to sob. All she could do was to stay close to him in the hope that he would feel loved and cared for.
Jack heard her crying. He opened his eyes to look at her and he finally seemed to register that she was also in a bad way. He reached out to her and she let him pull her onto the lounge to lie next to him, their faces almost touching. He smelt strongly of blood and vomit and she moved her face so she could kiss him softly on his forehead. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arm tightly around him.
