Chapter 6 revised-swimming deep
I awoke to the sound of the wind's whistle, a thick woolen blanket weighing me down and a sweet smell of what I recognized as honey. I was lying buckled on a small sofa in a cramped cabin, the man who occupied it had vanished, leaving me alone and feeling vulnerable in unfamiliar surroundings. But it felt warm and comforting.
As I sat up to view my new environment, the sharp, paralyzing pains that pierce my sides and head returned, bounding me to my position. Once again I was trapped and captured, but this time by my own body and its reluctance to move.
I could see the candle and flame to my left, lighting up the darkness. Beyond the candle was a window, the only one within the structure of the cabin. You could not see beyond the glass as it was so dark outside, all I could see was my own mangled and distorted reflection of my blood covered face. My eyes where the only thing I could define as my own, sky blue with tinges of lush green. My eyes where an image of life in contrast to myself. I know I didn't inherit my eye colour from my mother, hers were a deep green mixed with hazelnut, and my father's were a mahogany brown, far from my own.
A gust of wind brought rain and my attention back to the world, it blurred the darkness outside and morphed my hearing. Concentrating on the patter of the rain on both the window and roof above, I calmed down. I no longer felt threatened, no longer scared. I focused on myself, feeling every part of my body, feeling the changes that had occurred over the last few days. Into a state of meditation, I delved deeper within, to find the root of the pain and to let go of the suffering. Thoughts of what had happened intruded my mind, I acknowledged them, and let them go as there was nothing I could do to change them. My body rejuvenated, my mind alive and my fears gone, I allowed myself to awake from my state, to reconnect with my surrounding, however it did not.
I delved deeper, focusing on the causes of my pain. My ribs, crippled by a blow from a club, I focused harder on that blow, calculated with precision yet clumsy, naturally clumsy. The man who welded the weapon, bulky and confident, arrogant almost. The man to his side, the onlooker, the supervisor, dressed in white with distinctive red markings. I let go of my thoughts and returned to reality.
My pain had gone, the pain that kept me here.
I sat up at last, holding my head high, breathed in.
Breathed out.
The door to the cabin opened, and a man walked in. I payed no attention.
Breathed in.
His shadow loomed over me.
Breathe out. Breathe out. Breathe out I told myself however my lungs refused.
This man touched my neck and a cold set in. Fear.
My body was screaming for me to run however I could not. This was dangerous, this was unfamiliar, however something about this man before me was comforting. The tilt of his head, or the warm silence that radiated off him, it somehow felt familiar but in a foreign way.
I just stared at him, and I knew I was staring, but I didn't know what else I could do.
He knelt down next to me and ran his hand over my face. I was frozen solid, I wouldn't dare to move. He softly moved his fingers to my left eye, and pinched the wound above it closed. While holding it together, he recovered a small first aid kit from one of the many pockets on his person, cleaned and dressed the wound. I could feel the pain but I wouldn't flinch, I wouldn't move.
He moved down to my eye itself, swollen yet still open, but the vibrant blue was darkened but the deep purples and blacks that surround it and stretch down to my nose. Softly, he covered the area in a cold, soothing paste. I still didn't move, still not taking my eyes off him.
Why was I so uneasy? He's helping me?
His absent expression caused by the dark mask he wore chilled me to the bone. I have yet to see his face, to gaze upon my medic.
Then I remembered him.
The man who chased me from the plane, the man who left me for dead in the building, death himself. It dawned on me.
Where was the owner of the cabin?
On his back were two swords, like wings sitting in place ready to open up, but they were stained with blood.
I still wouldn't move. I was unsure of what was happening, was this man helping me or here to kill me?
A voice broke me away from my thoughts, a females, one of the American red head. It wasn't clear, clouded with electrical crackling, a mumble from a hand held radio positioned on this mans hip.
"Snake, Snake, this is Scarlet, we've got your tracker on the computer, coming to get you now with medical personal, over."
He reached down and clicked his radio three times, but never said a word.
He drew his attention back to me, moving his hands down to my neck. A slash, stretching from my ear to where an Adams apple would be, was covered by my collar. As soon as he saw it, all undivided attention was on it. He had a bandage pad on it quicker than I could realize what was happening, for a shallow wound, he certainly had concerns.
I could hear a helicopter above, and memories of how I escaped last time flooded my mind. My heart pounded under my chest, I should of ran when I had the chance.
Hey guys, this is my first real story (or attempt at writing one) so any comments are welcomed as I wish to improve, thanks for reading! Hopefully more to follow later.