Erin awoke some time later, how long she had lain on the chilly rock she wasn't sure; it could have been mere minutes or hours, but she did become acutely aware of how cold she was, how her clothes now clung to her like wet tissue paper, and a chill ran through her flesh and rattled her very bones. The unsympathetic cold bite of stone numbed her cheek and it took her a moment to regain her senses.
Letting out a low groan she tried to raise herself up, but her body was limp and lifeless, too frozen and stiff to submit to her mind's commands. She stilled a moment, her brain whirring, as all that had happened rushed back to her like a door opening on a snowy blizzard.
She gasped with the memories and felt stinging tears prick the corners of her eyes at the remembrance of the pain; she felt it still, throbbing with determination with each fresh pump of her blood. She cried out and tried to ball her fist, but in her palm she still grasped something.
As the pain tried to worm itself fully back into her consciousness she grunted, and forced her body to move, cries and gasps escaping her lips as she pushed herself into a sitting position. With trembling hands she made herself look down, and saw there, in the tender flesh of her left palm, was embedded a silver object.
Her gasps were coming harsher to her now, as panic crashed down like the waterfall behind her. She tugged and pulled and cried and screamed, until with a sickening smack the thing came loose and blood flowed freely, coating her hand and forearm with dark liquid.
She didn't still herself long enough to look at what the object was but hurled it with a shout of anger toward the nearby river where it fell with a low plop into a pool of water.
Slowly and unsteadily she got to her feet and stumbled to a place near the river, a little away from the thing, and collapsed to her knees, the jolt of impact shocking her bones. She reached for the water, groaning in relief as the icy liquid ran over her injured hand, washing away the blood and leaving behind clean but injured skin.
"It's OK," she mumbled through numb cracked lips, "you're OK, everything is OK." A chant she so wanted to believe.
A rush of saliva entered her mouth and she bent, retching the contents of her stomach into the clear water and she stilled a moment in dazed wonderment as the remains of her pancake breakfast floated quickly away.
Erin rinsed her mouth and then drank a little of the fresh water, her lips thankful for the hydration, and then sat a moment, trying to make sense of everything that had happened to her today. It was then she noticed how low the sun had become, sunset was well underway and she needed to make it back to the camp before night fell.
With some shakiness she regained her footing, and reached with her uninjured hand into her pocket, finding a clean cotton handkerchief there, which she wrapped around her left hand without looking, not wanting to see how bad the damage was, that could all be left to the medic tent.
She carefully picked her way down the rocks, taking the same way she had when she'd come here, and once she was back upon the earthen floor she searched a moment for the path, with its little wooden border and solar lighting, that would guide her back, but there was none.
Had she in fact come down the wrong way?
She glanced about her, turning on her heel this way and that, searching but finding nothing, nothing but a small trail that looked to have been made by people walking through the undergrowth.
She looked back up at the waterfall and for a tiny moment she pondered whether she should in fact stay here, wait for someone to come and find her and rescue her from the situation. But she knew she'd set out before lunch, she was only meant to be gone for an hour or so, Ada would know by now she was missing and yet no one had come.
She was alone.
She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out her phone, she'd just call her of course! Her wits felt rattled and she brought the phone to life with a few pushes of her finger.
90% battery.
No signal.
She stared at the ominous red cross that told her she she could not call or message anyone. She did it anyway, choosing Ada's name, and the phone made a little bleep sound and ended the call before she'd even raised it to her ear. She tried again, the same thing happened.
Erin didn't really want to stay here by the waterfall, waiting, with no way to contact anyone, she'd just make her way back as best she could, they'd find her, maybe they were already out looking for her.
So, with a hand clutching at her skirt so she would not trip, she began to follow the path, the light growing ever dimmer with each footstep she took. By the time she had made it to the edge of the trees, night had fully fallen, and it was truly the darkest night Erin had ever seen. She turned her face up to it, the velvet black vastness studded with hundreds, thousands of tiny diamonds that winked down at her, mocking her labored breathing. She took a moment to regain herself and pulled out her phone, using its faint light to guide her. She wiped at the sweat on her brow and renewed her struggle against the bushes and ferns that seemed to hinder her every step.
Up ahead she could see a wooden fence and beyond it a small house, a merry warm light flickering at the window.
"I really am lost," Erin murmured to herself, now fully understanding she had indeed taken a wrong turn somewhere in the wood.
Seeing no parting in the fence she tiredly climbed over the thick posts, her legs leaden. She could feel that her hand was still bleeding, the makeshift bandage was wet and she thought she perhaps felt a slow drip of blood, but again she did not look down.
"The medics," she whispered, soothing herself, "they'll know what to do, I'll just make it worse, or freak myself out. Come on Erin, just a few more steps." It felt bizarre to be talking to herself, it was something she had never done, but she had never felt more in need of comfort in this moment, hurt and alone, lost and abandoned... and a little melodramatic.
She saw up ahead the door to the log cabin swing open, and as light flooded out into the meadow the sight of a dark outline of a figure appeared, feeling so much to her like deliverance. She was about to open her mouth to call out when her heart froze, the familiar shape she had seen so many times in the last 24 hours jutted out into the light, the long barrel of a musket. But Erin did not feel this was just a reenactor, this was someone's home, and they were holding a gun; more to the point, as she watched in terrified dread, they pulled it up and aimed it squarely in her direction.
Her steps stopped abruptly, her hand slipping into her pocket, hiding her phone; if she was in danger she may need it and didn't want it noticed and taken off her.
"Who goes there?" The tone was hostile and Erin fought to find any words.
"Me," she finally squeaked, "just me, Erin." She struggled to adjust her words, trying to make them make sense. "I'm Erin, hi." She sounded scared, and to her own ears rather pathetic.
"It's a woman." She heard the man shout back into the house and the tension seemed to break like a cut string. "What are you doing out here girl? This isn't a place to go wandering." The voice was kinder now and Erin saw him lower the gun, instead raising a lantern to illuminate the darkness.
"I know, I'm sorry I'm on your land," she called, her tone bubbling with tears and she tried to prevent them spilling over but it was an impossible task. "I'm lost." Her voice cracked on the last words and she sobbed openly. "Can you help me, please?"
She heard him put down the gun and he trotted across the grass to where she stood, raising the light and blinding her for a moment.
"Of course girl," he said kindly, and this just made Erin sob more. "Here, take my arm now." She reached out and clutched at him in desperation. "That's it, good now, come on in and we'll see you to rights."
Erin was glad of his aid as her tears made everything around her blurred, so he lead her blindly up to the large wooden porch and then into the welcoming warmth of a big room, a fire burning happily in a hearth.
He deposited her into a hard wooden chair by the fireside and with a flurry of movement a mug of something hot was placed into her hands.
"Oh John," a woman's warm tone, "she's hurt, look at her hand, the poor thing."
More bustling and then a warm cloth was wiped over Erin's now swollen feeling eyes, bringing the room into full sight. It took her more than a moment to realize nothing in here was modern, no TV, no electric lights, no fridge. Everything was like a reenactor's dream. Furs and blankets, wooden furniture, including a large dining table with several chairs, a crude kitchen and stove, at the far side a dark doorway to another room.
Erin looked up at the faces of the people who had helped her, both were worried but friendly and dressed in full 1750s costume to the tiniest detail. The man, John, was tall, and his build solid, his long dark hair was pulled back into a tail and stubble grazed his cheeks. The woman was lithe and her features strong but elegant, her blond hair piled onto her head in what had once been a neat bun.
As they all stared at each other a slow realization trickled down Erin's spine, was this the deluxe experience? Had she stumbled into some serious reenactor's expensive vacation?
"What happened to you girl?" John asked.
"I'll fetch something to clean that." The woman indicated to Erin's hand.
"No, no, that's fine, I'll wait until I can see the medics."
The woman didn't pause, but carried on like she hadn't heard.
John's brow furrowed.
"Medics? There isn't any medics here for miles. Where are you from? What happened to you?"
"I..." Erin paused feeling confused. "I was out in the woods and I fell at the waterfall, and I hurt my hand. I just need to get back to the camp, my friends are there, at the big camp." Her words came out like a torrent and it was clear John was having a hard time keeping up, he looked completely bewildered at her words. "You know the big camp? The reenactments?"
"Reenactments?" John sounded throughly puzzled. "We are the only people for miles, we'd know if anyone made camp near here."
"But the camp..." Erin trailed off lamely, not knowing how else to explain herself, surely they knew of the event, surely they were here for it!
"John," the woman was back and a reproachful look was given to him, "leave her be, she's scared and she's hurt."
"Well I just want to know what in God's name is going on, Alexandra!"
"John! Don't you curse now." Alexandra plucked at his shirt until he moved, allowing her to sit on a stool before Erin. "She said she fell, isn't that right, you fell?" She suddenly directed the question at Erin and all Erin could manage was a small nod. "See, she fell, she might have hit her head or been out on her own for hours, who knows?"
Erin reached for her head in reaction to these words, her fingers trying to find any sore spots. Had she hit her head?
"Fine, fine," John said, walking to the stove.
"Look at her dress John, she's clearly someone of note. Come now dear." Alexandra's voice was soft and motherly and it compelled Erin to listen. "Let's see that hand."
With complete trust Erin extended her injured parts to the young woman before her, suddenly incredibly grateful for the care and comfort, she wanted to be swept up and held as she had been when a child suffering a graze to her knee. She felt tears welling again and bit them back.
With careful and deft fingers Alexandra unwound the now soaked through piece of cotton and studied the damaged flesh beneath. Erin let out a small hiss through her teeth. "Looks sore dear, is it sore?"
Again Erin could only manage a nod.
"It's all alright, you are here, safe, and you will be just fine." She beamed a smile and Erin found herself believing those words. "It's not deep and won't need stitching, just a cold compress and some bandages, maybe a little salve and a stiff tot for the pain."
She watched, almost mesmerized as Alexandra tended her hand, stopping the bleeding then gently placing a little ointment on it, before winding it tightly in a fresh clean bandage. She was fed some rich tasting stew with a meat she couldn't quite place, and what she supposed could have been coffee with some kind of strong alcohol in it. A blanket was placed around her and in a haze of tiredness she drifted in and out of fitful sleep.
She could hear John and Alexandra talking, trying to decide what was to be done with her come morning, but Erin found she cared very little. The food had warmed her and the drink had made her feel fuzzy, all she could do was try and sleep.
