Chapter Four
She had to get out of there. She had to find help, or she would die. There was no choice left now, it was lay here in the mud and the blood and wait or drag herself to the road or her car and somehow get help. From deep down inside herself came the will to live, the primal desire to keep going. She rolled onto her stomach and began to scuffle around in the dirty grass, trying to move. She had no idea even which direction to take. And then it occurred to her that she'd seen only one other human being since moving to this place, way out here beyond the county line in the middle of nowhere. Groaning and sobbing in pain, she dug her hands into the soil and began to drag herself inch by painful inch toward the ridge where she had seen the man with the gun. Whether he could help her or not, she had no choice left.
The rain began to fall in real earnest now, slapping against her back in fat stinging droplets. The thunder grew louder and louder. God it was dark, and the pine needles stung her hands and gouged into the raw flesh of her wound as she dragged herself along. She cried of course, but she had to keep going. What other choice was there? Lie still and die in the storm? The lightening would flash a strobe upon her death throes, casting them into a jerky 8mm parody of messy backwoods expiration. The freezing rain would turn her lips blue and maybe fill her sightless eyes with little puddles that would still be there come dawn. Maybe kind birds would cover her body with leaves. Or she could keep going. Keep to the rhythm of digging her fingers into the wet soil, scraping herself forward, digging again, scraping, dig, scrape, cry. Dig. Scrape. Cry.
It took her nearly 20 minutes to top the rise to the east. She struggled up on her elbows, scanning the dark woods with her swollen eyes. Amidst the whipping trees and the flashes of electricity, she saw a gleam of something that was not forest. A house. An old white ranch-style house stood nestled in the deep green velvet of the wet evergreens. Red saw it, and in an instant she lost her fear of whomever it was she had seen on the ridge. She didn't even care anymore, not at this point. Not as long as they would help her and ease this pain and call an ambulance and feed her cat. With a choked moan, she began to crawl toward the house, crying harder in relief now.
"God oh God oh God please let someone be home! Please be home! Help me! HELP! HELP!" she screamed the plea twice, her voice drowned out by the pounding storm-whipped surf behind her and the rain on the forest and the howling mocking wind. She inch-wormed as fast as she could with her fading strength, her head down and her eyes squeezed shut. The pain was excruciating. She didn't even know how bad the injury was, but she could tell from the intensity of the pain that it was considerable. Thirty or so more minutes of stalwart wailing and lamentation brought her into the yard of the modest home. There was no car in the muddy driveway, but yellow light shone in all the windows, a single red candle flickering in one. Red crawled up the three steps to the door and beat weakly on the bottom. She was exhausted, incapable of speech or coherency, lying in a wet bleeding heap on the stoop. She'd even stopped shivering.
From inside there came the sound of footsteps, and the door was abruptly opened. Red stared at a pair of green house slippers, shapely ankles, green silk pajama bottoms and the edge of a white terrycloth robe. The wonderful, welcoming scent of baking bread and garlic and tomato sauce wafted out. Baby powder and some fruity, spicy perfume.
She groaned, reaching out to assault one clean slipper with her mud-and-blood streaked hand.
"Help me. C-cut my leg. No heat, cat alone at cottage. Dying! Please…please help!"
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the person in green silk pajamas knelt down, and she was the most beautiful Asian woman that Red had ever seen. The woman's almond eyes were clouded over with worry, her long sheet of glossy black hair fell in a fragrant river over her shoulder to brush against Red's cheek.
She looked up and scanned the driveway, the dirt road. Her expression was one of apprehension and nervousness. And then with a sigh, she bit her lip for a moment, gripped Red's arm with a surprisingly strong hand, and hauled her inside out of the rain.
Red groaned as she was half-dragged to her knees.
"Get up. You have to get up and crawl. Now." The Asian woman in the green silk pajamas had a voice that was soft, calm, but nevertheless firm. It had a reassuring timbre to it.
"Okay, okay." Red moaned, and crawled as best she could. Drop cloths had been placed on the floor to protect the carpet, and as she crawled she noticed with a kind of fuzzy detachment that that there were piles of medical supplies on the kitchen table, three thick robes laid over the chairs. Three sets of slippers. Three places set at the table beyond the gauze and the bandages and the suture kit and a big metal tray with something tilted against it. Forceps?
"What…" Red whimpered, but the woman was leading her down the hallway, to a door on the left.
"In here. Now. They could be back at any moment. You're in danger here, but I will do the best I can to protect you." She pushed the door open and half-dragged Red inside.
The soft carpet felt wonderful against her abraded hands. A drowsy, smoky incense suffused the room, and there were bookshelves lining two of the walls. A comfortable chair with a footstool stood by the window, a large bed covered in a patchwork quilt and deliciously fresh-smelling sheets was tucked into the corner. It was a cozy, warm, perfect room. Red felt weak and terrified, and pain sliced across her heart that Bandit was not here. After all she'd been through, he was one of the few things she had left. But he was safe in the cottage. She had left food out. Water. He would be lonely, maybe, but he was safe. She tried to quiet her mind.
The Asian woman helped her up onto the bed and leaned over her for a moment. She looked closely at the wound, and her face relaxed.
"You were very lucky. I've seen worse. Much worse. Lie back and relax. Hopefully I can patch you up and get you back to where you came from before the gentlemen get home."
Red dug her fists into her eyes, rubbing away the tears. She was starving, cold, in pain, exhausted. This house was warm, clean. There was the most compelling scent of food emanating from the kitchen, and her stomach seized with need. She was lonely, damn it, and exhausted and in all ways pathetic. She hated that she was so weak…but she was. God, she was. Red laid her hand on the woman's arm.
"What's your name?"
The woman paused, her eyes flicking up to take in Red's anguished face.
"Tsugi," she said softly. "My name is Tsugi."
"Tsugi. That's a beautiful name. I'm Red. I mean…that's what everyone calls me." Red gestured to her unruly mane of wet curls. "Because of the hair."
Tsugi smiled slightly, and Red could not help but notice her quiet beauty. Her skin was slightly bronzed, her teeth a shy flash of white. The only imperfection was a rather fresh-looking injury on the place where her neck met her shoulder, visible just barely beyond the loose neckline of her silk pajama top. It looked sore, painful, the smooth flesh torn and puffy and purple.
"Do you have a dog?" Red asked.
Tsugi didn't even look. She simply pulled up her robe to cover the injury, her face impassive.
"Yes. We have a large dog and it bit me. But I am healing. Thank you for being concerned."
"It looks sore."
"It is sore." Tsugi sighed, then shook her head, "But I'm alright. My fiancé cleaned it and looked after me. He's a terrific healer, and he always tends to me when I need help. Look, Red, I can patch up your leg and give you supplies, but you have to get out of here. It's not safe. They could be back at any moment."
Tsugi leaned forward as she spoke and began unbuttoning Red's jeans. She slid them carefully down and off, over the injured shin. Red gripped the comforter and groaned in pain as the fabric pulled loose from the jagged wound.
"Wh-what do you mean? Who could be back at any moment?" Red gasped. Tsugi tucked a thick towel under her leg and fetched a basin of water and a cloth from the small bathroom off the bedroom. She began to sponge the wound clean. Outside, the thunder crashed again. After a long moment, she answered.
"Three men live here. Brothers. They don't exactly welcome guests." Tsugi lifted her eyes to fix Red with a gaze that was no longer inscrutable. "And if they find you here…they will probably kill you."