by Wendy Owens
“You there, what are you doing down there?” the voice commanded over Gabe’s shoulder.
Gabe slowly turned to see a Wintok making his way down the embankment. He came to stand squarely in Gabe’s path, leaving few options on where to run.
“Nothing good sir, simply resting,” Gabe replied, keeping his head bowed in an attempt to flatter the Wintok.
“Who are you?” the Wintok shouted, clearly unimpressed with his previous answer.
“Nobody of importance,” Gabe replied coolly, hoping the Wintok would miraculously accept the answer and leave him alone. Perhaps he could charm the creature, Gabe thought. Then all he needed was enough time to duck away and transport. If he transported right here in front of the Wintok it would surely bring Baal’s army back to poor Clarite’s town, an idea he could not live with.
“I say we bring him to Lord Caldrac for questioning,” another voice called out directly behind Gabe. In that instance he realized he was surrounded, a Wintok on either side. They must have seen Clarite returning to the roadside and come to investigate. Even if he managed to escape, Clarite would obviously become the target of questioning. Perhaps they would bring her to this Lord Caldrac character, a proposition that did not seem like it would bode well for her.
“Friends, I’m nobody, just a traveler passing through,” Gabe made one last effort to end the confrontation peacefully.
“We’ll see about that,” the Wintok directly in back of him said before he began to approach Gabe. It was clear Gabe was not going to talk his way out of this one. He considered using magic for a moment, but if he did it would surely signal any demon trackers in the area. Magic leaves a signature; the larger the spell, the easier to track. A battle involving magic would be like sending flares up. He would have to do this another way.
Gabe moved quickly and with purpose. His speed too fast for the Wintok’s to keep pace with, he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a small sharp dagger. With a quick flick of the wrist, the Wintok standing directly in front of him fell to the ground, clutching his throat. Without as much as a whisper he was dead.
Gabe turned towards the remaining Wintok that had been approaching from his rear. Taking a battle stance, he pulled out the glowing blue sword that had been concealed.
The Wintok gasped, “A Guardian!”
“Just not your day my friend,” Gabe replied with a grin and motioned for the beast to attack.
“You will die!” the creature growled and charged Gabe at full speed, the spikes from his head directed at Gabe.
Gabe jumped to one side, narrowly avoiding the attack, smacking the broadside of the sword against the creature’s back. The Wintok howled before turning and pulling a spiked club loose from his belt. He charged Gabe, wildly flailing the weapon. Gabe swung his sword outward, but missed the rapidly moving target. He was quite rusty apparently. As the Wintok passed him, the tip of the club pierced Gabe’s arm before ricocheting off and landing two spikes firmly in his hip.
The Wintok pulled on the primitive weapon, the spikes breaking off into Gabe’s flesh as he did so. Gabe let out a cry. Attempting to shake off the blinding pain, Gabe took in a deep breath and then focused. He did not use his eyes, but he listened and he felt the movement of the air around him. In an instant, Gabe thrust the sword backwards, under his arm, close to his body. He felt the blade pierce the torso of the Wintok. Taking to one knee, Gabe used gravity to help him more deeply implant the sword into the Wintok, twisting the blade to ensure maximum damage before pulling it free. Gabe heard the Wintok squeal in pain before pushing out its last breath.
Gabe turned, wincing from the wounds on his arm and rear hip. He was losing a lot of blood and there was a good chance the scuffle had been heard. It would be too risky to transport directly home. If a tracker found the bodies soon enough, they would be able to sense his transportation spell and follow the tracers it would leave behind. He would have to transport at least a village away from the valley and make the journey home on foot. His wounds would simply have to wait. In a moment Gabe was gone and all that remained were the bodies of the Wintoks and some fading smoke.
When Gabe transported to the desolate hillside he quickly took the time to wrap the wound on his arm. He had however, underestimated the wounds on his hip. They were not easily accessible to him so he was not aware of the amount of blood he was actually losing. It became quite clear to him, however, after about two miles into his journey. The dizziness disoriented him immensely and he had to take a moment to rest. Soon enough, however, he realized the severity of his wounds and knew he would likely lose consciousness. If he did not make it to the valley before this happened, he would not be protected by the copper in the walls of the mountains. The trackers would pick him up in an instant and he would be in Baal’s custody by nightfall.
Gabe stared at the ground which seemed to be shifting under his feet, planting one foot after the next. He thought of Rachel, alone in his cabin. If he were discovered, how long would it take them to find her? He had to get back to her. He did not know how. At this point he did not even have the power to transport, much less hike the remaining miles home.
Rachel had even surprised herself when she spouted off to Gabe. She never realized she had so much rage in her. “It’s not my fault,” she muttered as she walked in the open cabin door. “He is so infuriating, pushing me to the edge on purpose. He gets off on ticking other people off.”
She blushed, realizing she must look like a mad woman talking to herself. The isolation was driving her crazy and she wondered how Gabe had done it all this time.
Returning to the argument with Gabe that had been haunting her all day, she began asking herself random questions. How was she to know those carvings on the trees had been done by him? How was she to know discussing them would infuriate him so much? How was she to know he hid his belongings in a cave like some savage? I mean, who does that? All of the things she had done that seemed to enrage him had been simple misunderstandings. There’s absolutely no excuse for his behavior, she told herself. I was completely justified in my reaction.
Yet here she was, at his cabin, doing as she had been told and feeling guilty for what she had said. What other choice did she have, though? She had no idea where Uri was, or how to contact him. For that matter, she didn’t know where Gabe was either. Scenarios flew through Rachel’s head of the two men lying dead somewhere. Perhaps she would remain in that valley forever until she grew old and died there alone, or worse, grew bitter like Gabe.
“Stop it, Rachel! Gabe hasn’t even been gone a day. You’re over reacting,” she scolded herself.
No sooner than the words left her mouth, Rachel heard a booming siren fill the valley. Rushing from the cabin, she saw nothing but darkness. Rachel searched for the source of the sirens in vain. No bull horns … nothing. Realizing the source of the noise was hidden, she decided the prudent thing would be to hide. Clearly the sirens were a warning of some sort and she did not want to wait around to find out of what.
The cabin was too obvious. If the valley was being invaded by someone, or worse, something, they would find her in an instant. Running to the dark and shadowy tree line, she weaved her body between two massive roots, pressing her cheek against the bark in an effort to conceal her pale flesh, which seemed to glow in the moonlight.
Initially the siren had made her heart race and pound, but so much time had passed since it sounded that she found herself becoming used to the noise. Every few minutes that passed, Rachel would peak out from her hiding spot, verifying no monsters were lurking nearby. She couldn’t believe she found herself here, alone in the dark woods, hiding from creatures she had no idea even existed six months ago. Rachel pinched herself to ensure the time since she had met Uri had not, in fact, been one long nightmare. Wincing from the pain, Rachel was convinced.
The more time that went by, the more Rachel wondered if the sirens were somehow falsely triggered. She debated going back inside the cabin. Thinking better of the idea,
she remained tucked away, waiting, for what she did not know.
Eventually the irritating noise overwhelmed her senses as they began to fade away and simply become a white noise to her. A few more minutes had passed when Rachel heard a rustling in the bushes that were directly across from the clearing in front of the cabin. Taking a couple long blinks just to be sure she had not been imagining the movement, she found herself in an all too real situation. Pressing into the tree, Rachel clenched her eyes closed tightly. It’s nothing, she told herself, simply an animal passing by. You’re in a forest for God’s sake.
Rachel dared not look again; she sat there in total darkness, scared to even breathe. She could hear the earth being scuffled about, just beyond her in the clearing. It sounded almost as if a corpse were being dragged around across the dirt. Rachel’s imagination went wild; she had not been raised in a world full of monsters, so her first instinct was to picture a grizzly bear lurking about. Once again her heart was racing, she knew there was no way she could outrun a bear. She also knew if it caught her scent, she was dead. Rachel prepared for the next moment to be her last.
“Rachel ...” It was just a whisper, but she knew she heard it. Grizzlies can’t talk, she told herself. Without hesitation, she leapt from her hiding spot, racing to the clearing. Only Uri and Gabe knew where she was; she was sure it had to be one of them calling to her.
As she approached the bloody heap on the ground, it did not move. She was sure whatever it was had to be dead. Much to her surprise, in the next instant the mass dragged itself forward at least a foot before collapsing again. With a moan she heard the creature whisper again, “Rachel.”
Rachel realized what she was looking at, or rather who. “Gabe!” she gasped, falling to her knees next to him.
Being as delicate as she could, she rolled Gabe onto his side. His face was scraped up and covered in gashes. He looked as though he had drug his body over miles of jagged, rocky terrain. There was a substantial amount of blood seeping from a wound on his hip. The injury was caked with dirt and Rachel had no idea the extent of it.
“Gabe, I’m not sure if it’s safe to stay here. These alarms have been going off, what should I do?” Rachel pleaded, a surge of panic causing her to tremble.
Gabe motioned for Rachel to help him sit, crying out in pain as he did so. Raising one arm slightly and looking up into the night sky, the alarm silenced. “I set them off when I entered the valley. I’m sorry if I —” Gabe managed to whisper before his eyes rolled back in his head, revealing the whites.
“Gabe,” Rachel said shaking him gently. “Gabe, are you all right?”
Still he did not answer. She could feel his heartbeat, he wasn’t dead, but for all Rachel could tell he was near enough. It was all up to her now. Rachel gently laid Gabe back onto the ground. She raced into the cabin. Filling a pot with water and placing it on the stove, she poked at the dying embers. Adding a piece of timber to feed the flames, Rachel looked around frantically. She needed to get Gabe into the cabin, but there was no way she could lift his muscular frame, especially considering at this point it was all dead weight.
Thinking quickly, Rachel grabbed some of the linens from the bed and darted out the front door. She laid the blanket out carefully next to him, rolling his immobile body onto the surface of the fabric. Gripping the cloth with both hands, Rachel pulled with all her might until her knuckles turned white and she thought her arms might rip from their socket. Rachel let out a pain filled grunt. She was not going to let this guy die, not on her watch. Taking a deep breath, Rachel pulled again, this time she felt his body shift against the earth. Building momentum she broke out into a slight jog, Gabe’s weight shifting from side to side slightly behind her. While the make-shift sled was helpful with reaching the entry of the cabin, there was no way to get him up over the landing with the device.
Rachel knelt just in front of him. Linking her arms through his, she pulled and lifted like her life depended on it. She managed to heave him half way on to her back. Careful not to cause more damage, Rachel slowly moved him, each step heavily labored. His heels dragged behind them, pulling the dirt as they did. Though it only took a moment to move his body inside and onto the bedding, it felt like hours must have passed.
“Gabe,” Rachel said, attempting to wake the sleeping man. There was no response.
Rachel urgently pulled the pot of boiling water from the stove top. Setting it aside to cool, she reached under the prep table in search of extra sheets she could shred and use for bandages. Feeling around, her hand caught hold of something rough. Grasping it tightly, she pulled out the object. Much to her surprise she discovered a large, six inch hunting knife. She wasn’t sure if she found the weapon to be comforting or disturbing. Either way, at this point it was useful.
Based on the amount of blood that was on Gabe’s clothes she knew there was a wound, if not several, that was having trouble with clotting. There was a good chance she would need something to cauterize them with. Using her skirt as a mitt, Rachel pulled open the door to the small potbelly stove and shoved the blade into the flames.
Without hesitation, she began. Grabbing the linens from their hiding spot, she started shredding. Rachel had no formal experience with a situation like this one, but prided herself as being a calm and level-headed person. There was someone depending on her and panic was not an option. If Gabe had any chance of surviving he needed Rachel to keep it together.
Gathering the last of the supplies she would need from around the room, Rachel huffed and moved everything to his side. She had no silk for stitches and instead would have to use a thick thread Gabe used to mend tarps and what not. His scars would not be pretty, but he would survive ... at least she hoped he would.
Rachel began by unwrapping Gabe’s arm and removing his shirt. It was quite a workout to even do simple things with his body. His unconscious state provided her with no assistance in shifting his weight.
The moment she unwrapped Gabe’s arm the blood began to flow again from his wounds. She worked as quickly as possible, cleaning and stitching. Rachel moved on to the cuts on his face and chest, only a couple requiring a stitch and most only needing cleaning.
She began to feel confident in her new-found nursing skills when suddenly she was rattled to her very core. Turning Gabe over slowly for further inspection, she found a challenge that might have been too great for her. Upon closer examination of the injury on Gabe’s hip, Rachel realized she had underestimated the extent of the wounds. Rachel squeezed a dampened cloth over the area, the clumps of soil and pebbles washing away, revealing the horror underneath. Rachel gasped when she saw there was something embedded in two large wounds on Gabe’s back. There was no way the tweezers she had set aside would be large enough to pull the objects from his flesh. The base of the items were the size of a dime and looked jagged in their texture.
Frantically she began to search the room, tossing things aside carelessly, trying to find a tool she could use to remove the implanted objects. It didn’t take her long to realize that in cleaning the wound she had cleared away the debris that had slowed the bleeding. Now lying on his stomach, the blood began to pool into the divot of his lower back. Rachel was running out of time.
Out of options, Rachel fell to her knees and grabbed the hunting knife, the hot blade slicing into his skin as if it were butter. She ran the knife between the two small circular holes, joining the two wounds in to one larger one. She then reached into the widened area with her fingers; it was too late to turn back now. Pushing through the layers of flesh, she grabbed a hold of the first object with her fingertips. Pulling it free she could see it was a spike of some sort. Tossing it aside, she repeated the process on the other side, his blood flowing up around her fingers, making visibility impossible. Pulling it free at last, she knew she had to act quickly. Attempting to slow the bleeding, she pressed the heated blade against his flesh, but nothing happened.
She didn’t have time to think of options, there was a good chance Gabe
had already lost too much blood to survive. Grabbing a pile of the shredded linens, Rachel pressed them against the wound, and grabbed the needle and thread with the other hand. She used her mouth, elbows, and any other part of her body she could to keep pressure applied between stitches.
Finishing her work, the bleeding at last seemed to stop. Cleaning the wound, Rachel cringed at her poor stitching. She was grateful Gabe had been unconscious during it all. Gabe’s body was so void of blood, his skin had taken on a blue hue. Rachel feared he might not awake from his sleep. She would keep his wounds clean, tend to him as best she was capable, and pray. It was all she had left.
Faint voices. Blurred images of familiar, but unrecognizable faces. An overwhelming light that fades to darkness. Gabe was convinced this must be Heaven, or perhaps the path to get there. Maybe the journey in the afterlife was like a quest you had to go on and he was about to embark on his.
Gradually, however, things became clearer. He became more aware of his surroundings during his brief stints with consciousness. He could tell he was in a bed, his torso tightly wrapped in something. His face ached and throbbed, though he didn’t know why. Opening his eyes hadn’t seemed like an option until this moment. At this moment he was lucid enough to know his eyes were something he could control. Focusing his energy, fiercely concentrating on the small task, Gabe pushed his eyelids upwards; the light streaming in caused him to pull back a little. The light made him realize his head was pounding, a pain he hadn’t noticed before. He felt like he had literally been hit by a truck.
Gabe struggled to grab hold of his memories. They seemed to be lost in his mind, a sea of confusion. A few pieces came back to him and he began to patch it together like a quilt. He had gone to Baynar, he saw Clarite, and he had crawled back to the valley so he would not be detected.