Born

Page 3

His warmth crashes onto me as he clutches my shoulder. I have never wondered if I am short, but he makes me feel tiny. I can smell him all around me. His smell makes my insides hurt.
I look at Leo who walks up to Anna and nuzzles her, encouraging her to start walking.
"Traitor." I whisper.
Jake laughs again, "She's really good with animals. It's the only friggen reason we are still alive."
I don't know what that means. Is she going to try to eat my wolf? She doesn't look like the kind of kid who hugs and pets her food before eating it. I'm not sure there are even kids who do that.
We walk the short bit back to my cabin in silence. He tries talking but I just listen, not to him but everything around us. This isn’t how I want to die and I don't know how much noise they've made thus far. He doesn’t seem to have a clue how to be quiet. His sister is the opposite. She listens like I do.
I feel considerably better when I smell the fire of my cabin and see my front door.
"How did you find this place?" He asks when I open the door.
I put my finger to my lips and creep in with my rifle raised. I never locked the door. Another rule I've broken.
I clear each of the two rooms and the bathroom. I check the closets and then turn the small lantern on, creating a tiny warm orange glow.
He hops along the couch and sits down, grimacing in pain. My house feels exposed. No one has ever been here before.
"Jake you're going to be okay, right?" Anna kneels in front of him and looks back at me. I lock the door and close the curtains completely. I feel vulnerable. His eyes watching me make me feel worse.
I need them gone.
"He'll be fine, just let me take a look." I bring the lantern and sit on the floor beside her, "Go sit by the fire and warm up. There is a stew on top. Get a bowl and eat." She doesn’t have to be asked twice.
I look up at him. He lays his head back on the couch and looks like he will fall asleep at any second.
I smirk, knowing he will be wide-awake the moment I touch the break.
"You can't scream okay."
He lifts his head and smiles bitterly, "I screamed like a little girl when I fell in the damned hole."
I take a breath and put my fingers to his button on his jeans and undo them. My fingers tremble. I have not touched anyone in ten years. It's been me and Leo for eight. He's all I've touched.
He grins, "Don’t I get any stew before you try to take my pants off?"
I glare at him, "No, you'll throw up and we don’t waste food here." I don’t appreciate the awkward joke.
He laughs weakly, gripping the couch with his massive hands. I unzip the pants and start to gently pull them down.
"I would probably be enjoying this if it weren’t for the unbearable pain. I need to get injured more often."
His stomach flexes, revealing muscles like I have never seen before. His hipbones stick out a little too much, but otherwise his body is strong and amazing. He looks like the men on the cover of granny's romance novels.
I start to slide the jeans down his hairy legs just below his grey underwear. I try not to notice his grey underwear or what's beneath them. I try to pull the pants down but they get caught on his thigh. I grimace. He cries out.
I have seen disgusting things in my life and as I feel around his thigh for the break I prepare myself for the worst.
Fortunately there is no break, but a large piece of wood has pierced his leg. I don’t think it's hit the big artery in his leg. His blood loss is nowhere what it could be if it had been pierced. I wonder about removing the stick and what damage will be caused. I don’t actually know where the artery is, I just know there is one.
"Your leg isn’t broken."
He looks down at me, "What? I felt the bone sticking out."
"It's a stick not bone. A stick must have stabbed into you. I need some things. I'm going to have to cut the pants from your body though."
Anna speaks though mouthfuls, "I can sew them."
"Don’t watch this Jake. Just lie back and give me a minute to get everything I need."
He nods and lays his head back. I walk to my bathroom and sit on the earth friendly toilet, my grandpa had installed because my grandma refused to use the outhouse any longer. It runs when the weather is good but in the winter it's useless.
I sit and cry in the dark. I look at my filthy hands. Even in the dark I can see the dirt. I could cause an infection and he would die from that. I could pull the stick out, rupturing his artery and he could die from that. I don’t know exactly where the artery is. I wish I'd read more of the books than I have.
I don't know what my options are, but the thought of him dying hurts me more than any possible loss I could face, beyond Leo.
I think about my family and the years of life experience that have brought to this moment.
I light the bathroom candle and stand to see my reflection in the mirror. I am a ghostly girl in the muted light of the candle. My mother's bracelet and necklace glisten in the dark light. I forgot I put them on when I got home. I lightly touch the metal. I wish she were here. Not just her, any adult. I don’t want to do what I'm about to do. I grab my medical kit and take a deep breath.
I walk to the kitchen and pour a pot of water and place it on the counter, "Boil this now."
Anna hops up and grabs it. She stokes the fire and puts the pot on it. I am glad I don't have to tell her how to do it. She is capable. I like her for a moment. I close my heart and turn away from her. She still has to leave when all of this is over.
I grab the whiskey from the cupboard and crack the bottle. I've never opened it. I pour some on my hands, it stings a little. I scrub my hands and pour more on. I dry my hands with a towel from my fresh laundry pile.
I drink a swig of the whiskey and carry it to my couch. My throat is burning. I grab a thick blanket and put it under his leg. He moans slightly. He is falling asleep. I take the scissors and will my hands to be steady. I cut the fabric away quickly, trying to stay along the seam to make it easier to sew back. I pull the pants off completely and pass them to Anna, "The sewing kit is in the bathroom."
I turn back and look around his leg at the stick. It is about half an inch thick and looks to be flaking slightly. This might be a problem. It has gone in and broken off. It's gone in deep. I grimace as I touch the opening of the cut.
I walk to my tool bag and grab a wrench. I pour the whiskey over it and my hands again. I drink another swig. The fire is inside my belly now.
Anna returns with the sewing kit and looks at his leg.
"At least the stick went in to the side."
I nod and pass her the whiskey, "He's going to scream when I do this. You need to put a pillow over his face and hold him down. I will need that boiled water the minute it's ready."
She takes a drink of the whiskey and nods, "Okay."
I drop to my knees and place the old wrench around the nub of the stick. I tighten it so the bark makes a very slight crunching noise. I look at the blanket I have ready and take a deep breath. Anna goes around to the back of the couch holding a pillow and wraps her arms around her brother.
I try not to think about what I'm about to do.
"One, two, three." I pull the stick hard and fast, ripping it from his leg. He jerks as hard as he can, kicking me in the face with his other foot. I am suddenly on my back on the floor.
He screams but his sister and the pillow muffle it.
I see stars for a moment but find my back to him. I pick the whiskey back up and pour it all over his wound. He screams again, ripping the pillow off his face and shoving his sister off of him.
"FUCK! FUCK! WARN ME NEXT TIME!"
He looks at me like he could rip my head off. He scares me.
I nod, "I'm going to do it again."
A tear slips from his left eye but he nods. His jaw trembles slightly from the pain.
I look at the wound, blood rushes out. The flow is lazy, it isn’t the artery. I sigh, at least that won't kill him.
I poured more alcohol and mop up the blood and liquor. I push a towel against the wound and wait for his body's natural clotting to at least make an attempt.
As I look down at the wound I see blood dripping onto my hands. I touch my fingers to my face. My nose is bleeding heavily. I grab the other towel beside me and push it against my face. Leo nudges me to check. I rub my elbow against his fur to try to soothe him.
Chapter Three
"Where did you learn to stitch someone?"
I look back over at my guest and frown, "My dad was a survivalist. He made me go to survivor camp every summer and took me hunting and camping all the time. When it all started he planned for us to come here. The book shelves are lined with his survival books and manuals."
She frowns, "Did he come with you or did you come here alone?"
It flashes in my eyes, my father is pinned by the truck. He reaches for me and whispers his love. I can see them coming as I feel his fingers pushing me away. My feet listen to him and start running. They move against my wishes.
I shake it off and look at her, "Where are your parents?"
Her eyes blank like mine, "Mom died of sicknesses in the beginning. She went to work and never came home. She was part of the first quarantined. Dad, well he's gone. He's gone too." Her voice quivers a little. I know that feeling.
"They're all gone Anna. All that’s left is us and them." I almost twitch when I say the words us and them. I included her in my us.
Her small face is blank. I know that feeling too.
"Anna." A sleepy voice comes from the living room.
She is up and out of the bed, before I can even pull the covers back on my bed.
"He's burning up."
I nod and walk into the room stretching, "Good. His body is fighting the infection. The bark of the branch was really flakey. I tried to flush the wound as best as I could but some bark might still be in there."
I feel a small spark as the back of my hand rests against the balmy skin of his forehead.
He takes my hand in his. It's a moment of intimacy I've never had before. I don’t pull away but I don’t know how to react. He squeezes my hand.