We, who Survived
Chapter Eighteen

How could they leave me behind? Easy, I guess. I was slower than them. Injured and pathetic. That is why they left me. What could I contribute when they had an entire library to their use? Nothing...

“Fern, you sure you want to keep him? He looks pale and sick,” One of the masked men asked the man carrying me. “The other villages have better-looking boys and girls who would happily line up for you.”

“True, but he is not like us. He’s fragile, petite and not rough or rugged like us,” Fern admitted with ease as if he was not carrying me. He moved his arms then to try to get a better hold on me but the friction tore at my wound, causing me to let out a strained whimper.

“P-put me down,” I mumbled weakly, not wanting to provoke him. “My back c-can’t take anymore with being carried.”

Fern stopped abruptly just as I muttered my last word, an irritated growl coming from his throat as he dropped me. The men around me laughed wickedly while I willed myself to not burst into tears as I tried to stand only to stumble onto my knees, my ankle throbbing painfully as it buckled under my weight. They laughed louder.

“He’s too weak for you, Fern. Won’t last a weak, I tell you,” Another hunter commented, voice harsh as he continued to walk on.

“We will see. Get up, rat.” Fern grabbed my shoulder roughly, trying to force my dead weight back onto my feet. “Or should I just kill you now and be done with it?”

Fear pushed me to get up on my unsteady legs, my knees slightly trembling as I placed most of my weight on my good ankle. Glaring past the tears at the ground, I waited for the rest of the men to follow the first. When they did, I limped along with Fern at my side, watching over my every step as if waiting for me to mess up.

I lost track of time and our surroundings. My anger was beginning to boil over at how pathetic I was. Fear egged it on with how little I knew of this world and what Fern had planned to do with me. What I at least knew was that I did not rest soon, Fern would be threatening to kill me again.

“We are not far from my village now. When we get there, you will stay in my hut until further notice, understand?” Fern muttered, the skull mask muffling his words. Gulping, I nodded. He gripped his bow tighter then. “Stay close.”

Glancing at him, I wished he would take off his mask to see his face and see if he looked different compared to us. Or maybe he was forced to wear it by his parents due to him being gruesomely scarred or plain ugly. The last thought made me snicker louder than I wanted.

“Is there something funny?”

“N-no, sorry...”

“Thought so.”

Silence wrapped its blanket over us again for the rest of the painful march. The environment slowly changed with each footstep. Footpaths began to reveal themselves before the people did. A stream bubbled next to us, women chatting happily at its shores until they saw the hunters and me walking past. Their eyes bore into the back of my skull, making my skin prickle from their hateful glares and whispers.

I only lifted my eyes from the ground when we walked through crops of mutated plants and entered gates of metal chained tightly to dark wooden pillars forming a wall around the village. Inside were mud huts with thatched roofs, thin ropes hanging off some with flowers knotted into the cord for decoration. Children chased each other or slept at their mother’s side while she worked in a group with other young women and men. In the very centre burned a bonfire, a young man and woman tending to it with large logs.

“Jacob, take everyone to eat and wash up. Zed, go tell my father we have returned safely from our last patrol,” Fern ordered. The two men dispersed, one heading off by himself while the other led the remaining group of hunters into another hut, a younger boy going in with two large bowls of pink fruit.

Fern grabbed me by my elbow, dragging me behind him to a hut on the edge of the village. He pushed me through the doorway roughly, causing me to stumble and fall to the ground as my ankle and knee gave under my weight. I lay there, unmoving, feeling the soft fur pelt of an animal skin under my cheek. I only wanted to rest on my stomach. To just lay there and breathe without having to worry that Fern would hurt me.

“Get up, you’re blocking the entrance.” Fern grabbed the back of my jacket, dragging me to my feet only for me to nearly tumble down again if he had not caught me. “Why are you so weak!”

“I’m injured, okay! Stop grabbing and dragging me all over the damn place,” I shouted, feeling hollow as soon as the words left my mouth. The want to curl up and hide was so strong that it made me take a step back, feeling my legs shaking at the effort. “I-I... Please don’t-”

“Let me see.” Fern interrupted me, grabbing onto my arms, attempting to keep me standing steady. I glanced up at him, my mouth dry at his bare face. Those striking grey-green eyes were no longer hard and hungry but soft, coaxing. His features were defined with roughish charm, not ugly or brutally scarred. His hair was dark brown, shaved short. Small, white scars marked his arms and another tattoo revealed itself under his arm.

“Let me see.”

“N-no. You are just g-going to hurt me. Let go.”

“I said I wouldn’t so show me.”

Struggling to get out of his grip only made him grip down harder, making me grimace and tear up.

“F-fine. Let go first.”

Fern did so, watching me as I hesitantly turned my back towards him and take off my jacket before lifting my shirt until I felt Fern carry on with the action. He touched the skin around my wound with gentle fingers. Why would he care or show this slight worry? I was his prisoner. Just then, he pressed down hard against my wound, making me take in a sharp breath and quickly step away from him. My back throbbing painfully, tears stinging my eyes.

“You said-”

“It’s infected. I need to get someone who can clarify my suspicions. I can help.”

My jaw felt like it had hit the floor of the hut. Confusion clouded my thoughts and I let Fern move me to a large, wooden chair with furs draped all over it. He then pushed me gently into it. I stared up at him. What the hell was happening? This felt too surreal. How could this man go from abusing me to caring for me? No, no, no. I must be dreaming. I have to be.

“I will be back. Stay here.” Fern left the hut, leaving me to take in the room. This was my chance to leave but something in my gut told me to stay. Why would it be saying that? No clue. Sighing, I scanned over the room, trying to calm down.

There were three openings, which acted as windows, with woven leaves and sticks to make a strong shutter. The door had a similar structure but with a stronger design for the elements. The room which I sat in was decorated with furs and carved seats like the one I sat on. There was a table with three stools around it with the same craftsmanship as the seats and a wooden bowl with fruit in it. The walls were strung with works of art obviously done by the people of the village. Some depicted detailed hunting scenes on mashed leaves like the Egyptian’s papyrus while the other two hanging items were wooden slates engraved with patterns.

Leaning back, I pulled one of the furs across my legs and closed my eyes. The stress, confusion and fear of today were catching up. You might be screaming at me to get up and run or asking me how I could sit there and fall asleep. To be honest, I would like to answer all of that but I have no answers to give. Maybe, it was because I was too tired to give a damn? I’ve felt it before with Daniel, giving up the fight to get away because it is just going to happen the next day. It gets tiring, trust me...

When sleep was on the verge of taking me, the door opened and Fern walked in with an old, fragile-looking woman behind him. I was fully awake in seconds.

“This is my grandmother, River. She’ll take a look at your wound to see how badly the infection is while I prepare a bath,” Fern explained, seeming to be hesitant at leaving us alone. Creep. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Go, you little brat before I hit you,” River spat, waving off Fern with long, bony fingers. Fern left after a nod. “Now that he is gone, what is your name, my dear?”

“Nathan,” I answered, sitting straight in the chair. River’s hard features softened into that of a grandmotherly smile. It did not calm my rapid heartbeat.

“It is a pleasure meeting you, Nathan. Now, may I see your back? My grandson told me that you have been attacked by a nasty creature.”

“S-sure.”

Once again, I was standing, my shirt raised at the back and River’s nimble fingers feeling around my wound, prodding here and there as Fern had done.

“The good news is that it has formed a nice scab. You kids from Trident have poor immune systems so it’s very pleasing to see scabbing,” She commented, catching me by surprise.

“Wait, you know about Trident?”

“My dear, the people of Cree are one of the last human groups left behind by that organisation. We are the last natives in this part of the land.”

“Wait... Please explain more, how did you survive?”

River was silent, her face resting in thought. When she seemed to find the right words, Fern was back.

“Bath’s ready,” He stated, wiping his hands on his leggings, a tunic covering his chest.

“Fern will explain it to you when you are well-rested. All I can say now is that, when you were on the station, your time was much slower than our own.” River gave me a sad smile before fixing her gaze on Fern. “Look after him. His body is frail and needs care.”

With that, she left, closing the door behind her. Fern said nothing as he took my bicep and led me down a small hall with two doors on either side. One door was ajar, steam rushing out and an unknown fragrance wafting around in the air. Going inside hesitantly, I stopped in my tracks.

Hot water steamed in a hardened clay bath. A bamboo pipe allowed a trickle of water to drip into the bath from where the stopper had a little gap. Another stopper showed itself from the bottom of the bath. The water had small flowers and leaves floating on its surface.

“If you wait any longer, the water will get cold,” Fern stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I am not taking off my clothes with you in here or bathing while you watch.” I narrowed my eyes at him, still feeling confused as to why this was happening to me. Fern matched my expression before smirking.

“Who said I was going to watch you? For all I care, you can drown,” He growled then turned to storm out of the bathroom. I wanted him gone but my ankle was throbbing angrily at me and if I put any more pressure on it, I would become fast friends with the floor in seconds. I wanted to scream, to cry but what good would that do?

“You are so confusing! Are you helping me or torturing me? I don’t understand this situation at all. Why am I even here?” I leaned against the wall, holding myself, barely keeping my voice under control. I was losing it. Fern cocked an eyebrow at me from where he stood.

“Do you want help to get into the bath or not? After that, I will explain.”

“F-fine...”

“I’ll turn around so you can undress. There is a towel over there that you can cover yourself with and place over the bath to hide under. Better?”

Taking a rattling breath, I let it out slowly. I was not getting out of this was I? Escape would only come when my ankle was better and right now, keeping quiet and submissive would have to do even if I hated it.

“Yes, but don’t get any ideas!”

“Can’t really promise that, Kitten.”

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