I do not know how long it is before I blink my eyes open. The first feeling is of the chill in the air. A fresh, dewy scent hits my nostrils, jolting me awake. Feet above me, a canopy of green leaves rustles in soft wind, sweet sunrays dancing and bounding off their luscious green.

My eyes are blinded by the brilliance. It takes me a few blinks to adjust my vision. As I regain my senses, the first thought is of searing pain.

My head hurts like it was crashed on a boulder. Every nerve in my body screams of discomfort. I am lying on some scratchy, hard surface that immediately alarms me. Pointy hard needles poke through my thin blouse, it seems my jumper is removed. An ant-like insect crawls across my waist and I startle in surprise.

Where am I? I look around and my eyes fall on a man crouching beside me. A mop of blond hair falls on his face, covering his green eyes. His broad shoulders shield me from the view beyond, but I hear murmurs.

“Is she alive?”

“Is she dead?”

“Whatever! They are not supposed to be within these borders. Let them fend for themselves. We have to continue with our patrol.”

Urm…excuse me? What’s going on?

“She lives.” the man stands up and turns to face the others. I am gifted with a view of his splendidly tight butt. His long legs are clad in faded green military trousers; his tight black t-shirt is far too stretched to leave anything for imagination.

“Thank you so much for helping my sister. I do not know what we would have done without you!” Olly says as she walks closer. She does not spare me a glance. All her attention is trained on the Adonis in front of her. I can practically feel her hyperventilating.

“It’s alright,” the man shrugs. “But I would like to know what you are doing in this area. It’s a dangerous place to be, even in the daytime. We have bears, pumas, not to mention wolves. We have placed sign boards to warn off people. Why on earth were you on that road?”

Olly’s face falls. She purses her lips. The man’s tone indicates he is not as taken with her as she is with him. He frowns at her with his hands on his hips. I get a view of his perfect V figure.

“Urm…we got lost,” Olly splutters. “We were given this address. The man at the motel told us to go this way.”

He humphs and turns away from Olly. There is a sudden shuffle of feet and I notice we are surrounded by many more. They all are in combat trousers and black t-shirts. It seems like we have landed some sort of military camp.

I squint my eyes at the sunlight and try to shuffle up on my side to sit up. A whimper of pain escapes my lips. I had not appreciated the gravity of my injuries. My body feels knackered. Even the slightest of movement feels like punishment.

“So the weakling still survives, but barely. We should not have bothered,” another voice comments, clearly aiming at me. I grunt, as I look up. A man walks through the crowd as they part to let him into the circle.

He is as tall as the first one and so similar in looks I am unnerved. Olly too looks confused.

“I think we should just kill them. This is a prohibited area. Civilians are not allowed here. We can’t have people nosing around in our business.”

Kill them? A jolt of shock sends me scrambling to my feet. I stand up, but lurch sideways to grab Olly’s shoulder. This is insane. Who are these people and how can they talk like this about us? It looks like killing someone is their daily job.

“Hello? Did you say ‘kill them’? How dare you! This is the USA for your information. There is a rule of law. Don’t think you have the right to kill people just because you are military.”

To my dismay, they start laughing. The forest hums with a deep rumble of throaty chuckles. They wink at each other and pass looks. I flame in embarrassment. I do not understand what I have said wrong. Are they not military?

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Who are you people, by the way?” I ask, standing my ground as their laughter continues. “You look military, but you are not? We are here to see John Stevens of the Wolven Falls. Can you guide us to him?”

I wait for an answer, but none comes. The scene turns weird. The first man with a perfect V whirls back to me. With one easy stride, he closes the distance between us.

“What did you say?” His mossy green eyes bore into mine. I can feel my poor heart making mad somersaults. I have never been this close to a man. Well, maybe once, when Reggie Atkins tried to kiss me in my freshman year. But that was nowhere near how I feel now. Reggie wore thick glasses. He smelt of mothballs and chewing gum, not like fresh pine and autumn wind mixed together with wet mud and rock salt like this man does. Reggie was five foot three with his healed boots. This man towers over me like a low-hanging fruit I can never reach.

“Are you asleep?” he growls into my face. “Answer my question!”

I shake my head, trying to forget Reggie and low hanging fruits.

“I said we are here to see John Stevens of Wolven Falls, Silver Forest, Maine. That was the address we were given. He is a friend of my grandma and our guardian, as per her last will and testament. We must see him.”

“Huh? As per what?”

I grit my teeth. He is handsome as hell, but does he have to be deaf and dumb too?

“As per the last will and testament of my grandmother–Ms. Adele Winters of Santa Monica, Los Angeles,” I chew each word out slowly for his benefit. “You can confirm it with our solicitor, Mr. Williams. Grandma died six weeks ago, and we are to seek out our guardian, one Mr John Stevens. He lives somewhere around here. It would be great if you would be kind enough to direct us to him. Otherwise, we’ll take your leave.”

I finish and cross my arms.

He stares as if I spoke in Latin. A minute passes without anyone speaking. Someone snickers at the back but receives a kick in the shin.

“Gabe, what are to do now?” a man with black hair and blue eyes addresses the man in front of me. Gabe…the name slithers down my skin like winter sunshine.

He shakes his head slowly, his glare trained on me.

“Nothing. Apparently, we cannot help them. So let’s leave them be.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard it right, Ms Winters. Unfortunately, we cannot direct you to your guardian. I guess you are on your own now. Have a great day.”

He then turns on his heals and leaves. His group follows him obediently.

I watch, stupefied, taking a second to assimilate the situation. But it’s a second too long. They all have vanished into thin air.

The merry morning mocks me as I feel strength leaving my limbs. Olly crosses her arms as if it is all my fault. For once, I agree. This time indeed, it is my fault.

“Now what?”

I swallow a hard lump.

Darn men! Darn Gabe! Why couldn’t he be a little more accommodating?

“Where is Mrs. Bates?” I ask, suddenly realising I and Olly are only two left now that the men have disappeared.

Olly has no answer. “I did not see Mrs. Bates after I woke up. And I woke up just a few minutes before you.”

*****

“Mrs. Bates!” I call out as I push a thorny bush away from my path. It is past noon. The sun has risen to its scorching high. The forest is quiet but for our loud calls for Mrs. Bates. It’s predominantly me calling, while Olly sits under this tree and that following my trail. She is too hot and hungry to search for the housekeeper.

I shake my head. Olly is Mrs. Bates's favourite. She has spent hours cooking for Olly, playing dolls with her when we were little and later on, carrying her countless bags as Olly roamed in LA malls, shopping herself to death. The least she could do now was to help look for the lady, but it seems she is not bothered.

“Mrs. Bates! Where are you? Can you hear me?” I call out again. No one answers. After the men left us, we have wandered about the forest haphazardly. I have lost whatever little sense of direction I could boast of. We cannot go back to where we were this morning. I want to go back to the crash site. That is the best place to look for Mrs. Bates. If she is… dead or too grievously injured in the crash, she might have just been lying there. The men who found us did not see her, which means she might have just rolled into some ditch.

My heart thuds as a vision flashes in front of my eyes–poor old Mrs. Bates, lying in a forest ditch, either injured or dead. It is possible some wild animal has found her by now; the image makes me sick.

“Mrs, Bates! Please…” my voice croaks with emotion. I do not know why I am crying. It’s not like the old housekeeper was very nice to me. She kept her distance most of the time unless I was ill. Maybe it’s a burden of gratitude.

“Mrs. Bates…”

“Oh, shut up, Danny!!” Olly screeches me to a halt. I turn to find her breathing hard. Her face is smeared with dirt, her hair is messy. Her clothes are torn some places, and she’s got scratches on her arms and legs. She has never looked like this in her life.

“Let’s not waste time looking for Mrs. Bates.” She says as she nears me. Her face has a determined look.

“But...”

“NO, Danny. This time you listen to me. We are not going to look for Mrs. Bates anymore. We are going home.”

Home. I want to remind her of the simple fact that we have no home to go back to but cannot bring myself to utter it. Instead, we make out home under a sycamore tree and call it a day.

The night is gathering again; the forest is awakening. It’s best to wait it out to find our way back.

***** *****