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The Aftermath
chapter nine
Jax / Wit
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Clink.
My bleary eyes cracked open to the sound of ringing metal. Between scrunched eyelids, late morning light drowned the grog I woke in; it slipped through the fresh cracks along the timber walls, and the violet sheen seeped through the room. With setting anxiety, I took in the evidence of last night's debacle: homemade furniture lay in tatters throughout the room; tables and chairs sat, overturned and broken; long shards of glass formed heaps, surrounded by a medley of wood chipping, fresh dirt, and sifted dust.
Damn. I had really been hoping that was a dream.
Wrinkling my nose at the smell, searing pain sent my nerves into spasms. "Aahh-" I reached for my face...and what I felt made my hair stand on end.
Bones poked out of the skin in several places along both my mouth and nose. Licking the backside of my teeth, I noticed more than a few were missing. I could barely open my mouth to groan, and my ability to smell was clogged by something. Reaching up, I felt for what should’ve been a nose, but instead felt like a bundle of jumbled cartilage.
My beautiful face. I’ll have to get Mary to look at me.
Clawing my way up the wall, I managed to stand up - well, ‘stand’ was an exaggeration; my legs were jelly, so I was only half-way up and propped against the broken wall, where Hugo had thrown Kane.
Wait. A chill ran down my spine and my head snapped up.
Where’s Kane?
My eyes flickered around the room, in search of the terror that attacked me last night. But I couldn’t find him. My eyebrows furrowed, I couldn’t find Wit either for that matter. Scanning the room, my eyes froze on something that sent a jolt through my spine. Leading from the spot I woke from, to the backside door, a trail of blood lay, still wet on the wood floorboard.
Clink.
Metal sounded again, and this time I knew the direction. But what I thought was happening terrified me, because the sound came from the backyard, where the trail led.
...and it sounded like a shovel.
Shit! Wit! Quickly lumbering along the cracked wall, I stumbled to the backdoor.
Be okay! Damnit! Why'd I let this happen?!
I’d failed him. I'd made a promise and I'd failed. This is my fault. Damnit, I’m so useless!
The entire way to the back, my leg would give out sporadically, and I’d collapse onto the floor. It happened three or four times before I finally made it to the door.
It stood ajar, and I could hear shuffling from the outside. Grabbing the last chunk of knob leftover from the fight, I opened the door all the way, and the screech of wood on wood grated at my ears. I took a step outside, and immediately my leg gave out. I slipped down the top step, and fell over, tumbling into...someone. Shit! Is that Kane?! I shoved my shoulder into his chest and took him to the ground with me.
"I'm gonna kill you!"
“Ugh!” A weak voice let out, as I tackled the man to the ground. “Jax!” The voice caught me by surprise because when I twisted my neck to meet the person I had just tackled, I saw Wit.
Thank gods.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. He's alright. Relieved, I rolled over and sat on the bottom step, facing him. Slowly, he recovered too. He was sluggish rising and dark bags loomed under his eyes. I felt something off about him, almost as if he has changed in the short time I hadn’t seen him. He held himself differently when he faced me. It reminded me of my me of my first time after a Hunt.
Glad he was alright, I wiped forming sweat from my brow. But if he’s here, “Where's Kane?” I asked.
Emotions roiled like demons behind his eyes, and without words, he pointed to the blood trail that I’d followed out of the house.
That was Kane’s?
Tracking the trail with my eyes, it extended about ten feet from the house, where a mound of fresh dirt was piled above ground. Standing erect at the side was a shovel, dotted with bloody handprints.
Turning back to Wit, I finally noticed his own hands...they were covered in blood.
Noticing my eyes, he put his hands behind his back and lowered his head. “H-he was going to kill you,” his voice cracked, “so I...” he broke off, and a tear hit the ground between us.
Oh, damn.
Hoisting myself up, I brought my arms around his back and pulled him into a hug. “It’s alright.” I consoled.
This is my fault. If I hadn't messed up with Kane he wouldn't have had do what he did.
Infected with a fit of wracking sobs, Wit shook so hard in my arms I struggled to keep myself standing. But I did. I tried my best to let him have this moment of consolation. It's what he needed right now. With that thought in mind, we stood, with him crying into my shoulder for as long I could manage.
This was really happening too often now.
A while later, what little blood left circulating in my head, rushed to my unstable legs. My vision faded for a moment, and I wobbled backward. Luckily the kid was holding onto me because he tightened his hold when I toppled over. “Are you alright?” He leaned over and asked.
Slipping in his arms, I gripped the railing. “No.” I groaned honestly, clutching at the railing, as I stumbled back into the house and collapsed onto the floor.
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Damnit. My head undulated beneath my scalp, and I was seconds away from drifting out again.
Wit followed behind me and quickly helped roll me to my back. “What do I do?” He asked. Biting his nails, the situation bewildered the kid into anxiety.
“You-“ I wheezed out a single word before my lungs filled with blood and I spluttered into a coughing spell.
“Ah, shit!” Wit exclaimed, diligently tilting my head to the side, so I didn’t suffocate on the rising fluid in my mouth.
Heaving out several more long coughs, most of the blood came out. I opened my mouth to say thank you, but my voice was gone, lost in my collapsing lungs. "Aah-" Breathing became hard and talking an impossibility.
About to pass out, I panicked. Pointing to my bag across the room, Wit hurriedly grabbed it and came back. Taking the leather pouch, I untied the drawstring opening and pulled my map out. “A map?” He asked. I nodded, and motioning for him to look, I pointed to a deep red dot among a deluge of green forestry.
This spot was the village. I needed him to know where it was...in case I didn't wake up.
“Here?” He followed my finger with his own and asked. He was quick to figure out my intention. He was a smart kid. I hope he was alright. Nodding my head again, I began to drift out.
“Wait!” He shook me awake, and a scowl took my face before I relaxed. Overcome with fatigue, I‘d become a tad snappy.
“Where are we are we at?” He asked.
...oh yeah.
With a shaky finger, I pointed to a different smaller red dot, a bit further away.
“Okay.” He promised. “I’ll get you there.”
That was the last thing I remember before my head hit the wall, and I lost consciousness.
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Wit
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“Okay,” I promised. “I’ll get you there.”
As soon as I finished talking, his head hit the wall and he passed out.
"..."
Laying the thick canvas map onto the floor next to Jax, I got up and finally took a second to collect myself.
Fuck. My. Life.
Within a day, everything I thought sucked had gone to shit. Raising my hand, I lifted a finger.
One: I get a royal ass beating. The memory alone makes my broken arm throb. Over the past six months, I'd gotten used to a certain degree of pain, but that doesn't mean a hard thrashing didn't hurt like a bitch.
I raised another finger.
Two: I met Jax. Lifting his upper body from the wall, I laid him down flat on his side. I cringed, as a pained wheeze forced its way through his cut lips. I felt bad. He’d done nothing but help me while I’d known him. He was kind. The kindest man I’d ever known. I hope he's okay. Well, obviously he's not, but I hope he gets better. He's in the worst shape I'd ever seen someone in, outside of a few meth comas.
I tried to use Jax's condition to divert my attention, but self-loathing always crept it's ugly face around. It's my fault. He's like this because of me. If I had just done what I did sooner...
Through the open back door, I could see a mound of fresh dirt that grabbed my eyes. The visage held me captive like an evil spirit, and the image sent shivers through my body that stacked into spasms.
“Shit.” I dropped to my knees, and arching my neck forward, I puked for the umpteenth time since last night.
Because three: I killed Kane.
He would’ve killed Jax if I hadn’t. I had to.
“Ughh” Falling onto my side, I began to convulse. A seizure, out of my control, took my body for minutes before I ceased and puked again. “Ughh” Repeating several more times, the cycle continued, until there was nothing left in me. But even when I stopped puking, I couldn’t get up. My legs twitched so much, I deemed standing to be too hard right now.
So like this, I laid, wallowing in ideas of morality and self-loathing.
You shouldn’t have taken his life.
But I had to.
You could’ve knocked him out.
It was an accident; I didn’t know what I was doing, and Jax needed help.
What you did was no accident; it was murder.
I spent my time on the floor, arguing with myself, and at some point, self-loathing became the predominant voice. After a while, the spasms halted, but by then the sun was already on its way back down. Slugging to my feet, I let out a groan. My muscles were sore and I was exhausted.
Well...What do I do now?
Unsure, I did what I knew I had to do first. Grabbing a hand towel from a busted cabinet, I soaked it in water and carried it to Jax. The guy was in bad shape. I started by gently rubbing the blood from his face, taking time to pick out debris from the wound, and careful to avoid any exposed bones. That's a little above my education level.
Finished wiping his face, revealed under the dried blood was just a lump of black and blue flesh. His nose was crushed, his eyes were bleeding, and his jaw was lopsided. Bones poked out like stray hairs and I was left-jawed. This was fucked.
After wiping the blood and cleaning the exposed flesh, I was at a loss as to what to do. I couldn’t set bones, I’d never learned about antibacterial treatments, and I didn’t know what he needed right away. Was it rest? Food? But I don’t know how to cook.
The guy needed immediate treatment, that was for sure, but I couldn’t give it to him here. Setting the rag on the floor, I accidentally moved Jax's map. Furrowing my eyebrows, I picked it up and read what I could make out. I could do this; I'd taken geography.
But how?
He had a legend that described the length per fingertip, and evaluating the distance from point big dot to point little dot measured out to about five miles.
Holy shit. I don’t think I’ll be able to make that trip by myself, not to mention with a comatose two hundred pound man.
Fumbling with my thumbs, I thought out my situation. I was in a house, within a large forest, with no idea how to hunt or cook. I had a little less than a basic knowledge on aura, my arm was broken, and a grown man needed help immediately.
...what to do?
Given a few minutes, I drew up an idea...that was gonna suck. But seeing more blood oozing from the side of Jax’s mouth, I realized I didn't have much of a choice.
Running outside, in search of something suitable, for what I had planned, I spotted the wreckage of a broken carriage. What the hell happened here? The toppled carriage lay on its side and long strips of wood and loose wheels littered the front yard in haphazard lengths and widths. Eyeing a few large pieces, in particular, I hauled one I thought would work to the house.
It was beyond painful to hold the splintered wood in my cut hands, so my grip was awkward and the pulling slow and tedious. Not only that, but the wood was a lot heavier than I thought it’d be. Dragging it up the stairs, I twisted it vertically so I could fit it through the door. Placing it down next to Jax, I took a second to prepare myself.
Well, here we go.
Gently, I slid Jax onto the wooden slab and laid him down. It was a decent fit. His feet hung off the end a bit, but I’m sure his shoes would protect his heels. Running into Amber’s room, I grabbed a few thin blankets and using them, I tied Jax to the plank and tightened the ends till he was secured. Tying another blanket to the first one, I used it to make a reign for the makeshift sleigh.
Taking a step back, I was a little nervous, because now’s the hard part of my plan. I picked up the map and slung Jax’s bag over my shoulder.
Okay. Taking a final look around the house, I didn’t know how to feel. This house was where I’d stayed for six months. I’d been beaten, sure, I’d been a slave, yea, but there were times I’d been happy. Asher was the first friend I’d had in years, Jax the second, and Amber had occasions of sanity as well. When she wasn’t crazy, she was a good girl, really.
Looking around, this place held memories, moments both grim and good. I’d learned about people, endured hardship, and I’d grown from it. Mama always said, 'pain builds character'. Well then, I just snagged a bunch of character points didn’t I. At this point I’m not sure if even I can resist my charisma.
Chuckling to myself, I grabbed the reign of my Jaxmobile and took a deep breath. I felt for the energy around me and tried to focus it in my hand. Breathe. I built up a small amount and lightly pulled the sheet-rope. The reign pulled on the knotted blanket tied around Jax, and the sleigh slid along the floor. Sweet. I tried again, this time the energy dissipated and I just tugged a rope with my injured hands. I sucked in a breath to collect myself.
"That smarts."
A few more attempts, some successes, some failures, and I made it to the door. That was where I ran into the first snag, of what I’m sure was going to be a very very long trip.
How the fuck was I supposed to get him through the door?