Shau'i - Chapter 2 – The Run
#2 of Shau'i
While Tom slept deeply, his guest wasn't resting as calmly. She moaned and thrashed around in the bed, bad memories and pain tormenting her. A bit after two in the morning she suddenly jerked awake and opened her eyes, not knowing where she was. She couldn't remember coming here, only some flashes of a strange guy. Fear welled up inside her.
Then her eyes fell on the sleeping outline of that strange guy, sleeping on the couch. Why was she here? Her eyes widened and she panicked.
*
A loud thunderclap woke Tom. All the previous day's heat now discharged itself in a mighty thunderstorm. Then the next flash occurred, followed by an extremely loud thunderclap. It seemed too loud and Tom gave a nervous jerk. He suddenly noticed the front door standing open. He jumped up from the couch and his eyes immediately flicked towards his bed.
She was gone.
Tom sighed and sat down on the bed, not knowing what to do. It was still slightly warm to the touch. She couldn't have left too long ago. But should he follow? Or just let her go? It would be much easier for him, and at the moment it seemed what she wanted.
"But is she going to be alright?" Tom asked himself.
And to confirm his doubt, another flash struck, followed by a powerful thunderclap. He was still pondering whether to go looking for her or not, and was surprised by himself when he opened the door already having laced his shoes and put his jacket on. She still had to be very weak and injured; The weather was terrible; And he somehow felt responsible her.
As he stepped outside the heavy, cold rain splashed against his face and drenched him in a matter of seconds. Tom walked up the street and looked around, no luck so far. She could have chosen almost any direction. So he began to wander around the suburb streets trying to think where he would go.
After more than an hour he decided to give it up and go home. A heavy hopelessness was spreading in his heart. Just as he rounded the corner into the next street, he saw a dark figure, crouched against a garden fence.
She lifted weakly her head and looked up with sad eyes. As Tom came nearer, he could see her gaze at him. She had given up running and surrendered to her fate. She was ready to die here. They looked each other for a few seconds, then Tom held out his hand.
She flinched horribly, as if expecting a blow.
When she opened her eyes again he just stood there, offering to help her up. After a few silent minutes he sighed and crouched down in front of her, still holding out his hand, inviting her to come with him. He would earn her trust, Tom told himself, he would wait for her as long as it took. In the meantime she stared incredulously at him, now having understood, but at the same moment wondering why anyone would be out in this weather, searching, and then even waiting for her.
Just for her.
She studied every detail of his face and still wasn't sure whether to trust him or not. She ached all over. Every muscle, sinew and bone in her body was hurting and she just wanted this nightmare to end. She felt terrible.
She couldn't remember anything of her life before the crash. It was like a blank veil, covering her memories. But she could still feel the impact of her memories and she knew that her life had been terrible so far. She had already resigned herself to her fate, waiting for death and peace. And yet, there was a tiny ray of hope, sitting opposite her, hand outstretched and smiling.
*
After quite some time and without warning she lifted her own arm and lay her paw, and all of her hope, into his hand.
Tom smiled kindly and bent forward, slinging his less injured arm gently around her shoulders and pulling her up. She only managed to stumble a few meters before her knees gave way and Tom had to hold her tightly so she wouldn't fall. She looked at him, her face contorted in pain and misery.
Tom shifted his hold and lifted her up into his arms, carrying her ... again. As he began to walk towards home, he smiled at her reassuringly and asked, "Better"?
Even if she didn't understand him, she got his meaning and nodded slightly. And with her aches lessening she even managed a small twitching smile across her muzzle. As Tom noticed this he suddenly felt much better and warmer, even though he was still drenched in cold water and the wind was blowing up around them.
When they arrived back at the house five minutes later, Tom was shivering. The furred girl in his arms, on the other hand, was trembling madly. He quickly brought her inside and into the bathroom and offered her fresh towels. But she didn't react, in fact, she just stood beside him, trembling horribly and gripping his shoulder to steady herself, staring downwards, to the floor.
Tom followed her gaze and gasped.
She wasn't just dripping water.
Beneath her had formed a crimson puddle of water.
Her frayed pilot jumpsuit was obviously hiding some bad wounds, soaked and broken up again by the rain.
Suddenly her knees gave way and she slumped into Tom's side, who barely managed to grab her, easing her down onto the toilet seat. Then he took the towels to his bedroom and used a few of them to cover his bed. After that he hurried back to the bathroom to get her. Half dragging - half carrying, he helped her to his bed and place her gently onto it.
"I'm sorry, but I must take off your overall to help you," Tom said, blushing heavily.
The wounded creature stared at him, not understanding a single word, but still shaking and wincing in pain as bloody water trickled out of her fur. Tom, seeing that, felt that he had no choice but to act. He bent forward and tried to open the zipper of the overall, but it got stuck after a few centimeters.
"Damn!" Tom swore, "I'll be back in a second."
A few moments later he came dashing back into the bedroom with a pair of scissors and a first aid kit in his hands. Without further delay he began cutting open the overall carefully taking great care to leave out the parts where it stuck to wounds. Tom didn't want to risk her losing even more blood and decided to disinfect and bandage the open cuts first. After the overall was mostly removed, Tom stared for a few moments, horrified.
She was scarred so badly, great chunks of her fur were missing. The remaining fur was sticking together by blood and dirt. With a lurch in his stomach Tom realized that many of her wounds didn't look that fresh. Some of them looked like they were a few days old, others weeks.
She had been tortured mercilessly in the past.
With tears of pity and sorrow for her, and hatred boiling up for the ones who did this, Tom began to dab gingerly at the gashes with a fresh towel, wanting to clean and dry them a bit, before disinfecting and binding them. It was very slow work and when he was done on her he continued to her feet and back. Then Tom took one of her paws in his hand, squeezing it reassuringly, saying, "I can't help it but this is going to hurt a lot."
This seemed to calm her greatly, that is, before he began to disinfect one of her cuts with an alcohol-drenched cloth. She shrieked out instantly and a horrible twitch ran through her body. Tom waited for a moment so she could recover, and then worked as fast as possible, but it was no good. Soon she was writhing under him in pain, screaming and moaning. It broke Tom's heart to see her like this, but he had to finish this or her wounds could get infected, and he wasn't sure she would survive that. Hell he wasn't even sure she would survive her current condition.
A few minutes later she suddenly fell silent and dropped onto the bed in a dead faint. Tom's heart sank and he immediately checked her pulse and breathing. To his relief both were still quite strong. He felt bad for it, but this gave him the opportunity to work faster and then to bandage her. He also managed to remove the fragments of the jumpsuit still sticking to some of her wounds.
Tom closed his eyes and sighed in relief after the work was done. She was still unconscious, so he decided to let her rest for now and covered her with a dry towel, and then with his bedsheets. He stroked her forehead a few times and whispered, "I'm so sorry for what your fate had in store for you." Then Tom sat down beside the bed, nodding off with his right hand resting lightly on her left paw.
It was well after midnight when Tom suddenly jerked awake. He was still leaning at the side of the bed, aching all over because of his unnatural sleeping position. But that didn't wake him. He was woken by the loud noises coming from his right. His injured guest was writhing on the bed and short huffing whimpers escaped from her lips. She seemed to have a terrible nightmare.
Tom got up concerned as her body gave a particular violent twitch. She would hurt herself even more. He wanted to wake her, but as soon as his hands touched her, she calmed down, sleeping peacefully. Strange, he thought, staring at her for a while.
When he was sure that the dream was over he withdrew his hands and went back to his prior position, on the floor beside the bed. But as soon as he parted contact with her, she grew restless again. And seconds later she was whimpering once more, a pained expression on her face.
Tom, now curious, touched her lightly on her paw. She calmed down immediately. He repeated the process a few more times.
"Strange," Tom whispered to himself. It was incredible, their physical contact seemed to soothe her immensely. After Tom decided to do the only thing that allowed them both some sleep. He lay down on the bed beside her, holding her hand.