wilderness | paul lahote

{01}

Warmth. I felt warmth.

I woke up in an unfamiliar setting. On a sofa in someone's living room. This wasn't my house. These weren't my clothes. But what I knew for sure was that the blood that covered my hands could've been mine.

A light was emitting from the room that situated right behind the couch. Voices could be heard, but I couldn't make out much. All I knew was that there were two men talking. My mind was too hazy.

There were footsteps, and soon enough I could make out what the voices were saying. A female voice was speaking now.

"I'm sure she'll be fine soon. She didn't suffer many severe injuries. A seemingly fractured rib and a possible concussion. She got lucky out there, but it would still be best to keep an eye on her."

"You see. Just as the leeches leave town. Shit starts to hit the fan." Another male spoke. He sounded boyish, yet his tone was full of anger.

"Jacob. Calm down." Another man spoke. Authority laced in his tone. "It might not even be about them. We'll get this situation under control. Thank you, Sue."

"No problem. Thanks to you, the girl is alive. I just patched up some wounds," the female, presumably Sue, said, "I'll leave some painkillers here, she might need some when she wakes. Call me whenever you need me."

A door could be heard opening and closing. Silence took over the place.

My head was killing me. The pounding ache felt as if someone was constantly slamming a hammer into my brain. My left side hurt, I assumed that's where I had fractured a rib.

My arms were covered in bruises and scratches. Nothing that wouldn't heal up in a week or two, but they still were stinging. Thankfully, my limbs didn't feel as though they were on fire anymore. But my throat did.

The door could be heard once again, as someone stepped into the house.

"So what now?" the voice belonging to the male named Jacob asked. I felt bad for eavesdropping on their conversations. But at the same time, I felt too weak to let whoever was in the house know I had woken up.

"She'll either stay at yours, or I can take her back to mine and Emily's. Would it be okay with Billy?"

"Yeah, dad won't mind."

It was at this moment that I coughed. A bad choice on my end. This small act of movement sent a sharp pain through my head, my spine and the left side of my ribcage. I groaned in pain, as the world started spinning around me.

Two sets of footsteps could be heard rushing into the small, dimly lit room I was in.

"Hey," someone knelt down next to the couch I was laying on, "are you alright?"

I nodded. My eyes still squeezed shut. I had managed to breathe through the majority of the pain. A trick my mother had taught me, whenever I had fallen and injured myself during my childhood.

Something extremely warm touched my hands and gently unclutched my fingers that were tightly gripped to the blanket I was under.

"Do you need some painkillers?" the same voice asked again.

I shook my head as I whispered through my teeth: "I'm alright. I'll be alright."

As I slowly opened my eyes, I could see two guys in the room with me. They both were russet skinned. Muscular. And for some odd reason, shirtless. It was October, last I remembered. Surely it had to be cold.

One of them was standing behind the couch, in the entryway to the small living room. He was tall. His bronze face serious, his brows furrowed together. He looked to be in his late 20s, or early 30s. I couldn't quite tell.

Next to the sofa, the boy who was knelt beside me, stood up. He was taller, yet looked younger than the other man. He had a look of worry on his face. His dark eyes looking at me.

I tried to move, but winced as the pain was still quite prevalent. The boy walked off, soon to return with two pills and a glass of water.

"Take these, you'll feel better." He instructed.

Sitting up made me realize how dizzy I really was. The world was spinning, making me close my eyes in order to not throw up in front of these two strangers. The pills burned as they made their way down my throat. But the water felt good. It felt as if I hadn't had water in years.

"I'm Jacob," the boy said. "That's Sam. He found you in the woods last night. You got lucky." He took a seat in the old chair across from the sofa.

"Do you remember what happened to you," Sam finally spoke, but paused.

"Ari," I paused, swallowing. My throat burned with every word I said, "Ariah Lockwood. And no. Not really."

I was telling the truth. All I remembered was the pain. The cold. And the awaiting of death, that apparently never came.

"You were in a pretty bad state when we found you," just as Sam said that Jacob looked out of the window and propped himself up from leaning his elbows on his knees.

"You'll need to rest up right now. We'll talk tomorrow morning." Sam walked off towards the back door.

Hollering could be heard from outside of the house, making the two in the room turn their attention to the window again.

"Jacob will be staying with you, if you happen to need anything." Sam stated, more so to Jacob than me.

"Where's Paul?" he asked as he paused by the door, his back still facing me and Jacob.

"He has been gone ever since last night." Jacob answered as Sam made his way out of the back door of the house.