Godswater (Godswater: Book One)

Chapter Two

Elise had never moved as fast as she did when she backed up from what she'd thought was a corpse.

    She froze in her spot, hardly daring to breathe, her heart threatening to rip free from her chest. For a few seconds, she simply stared at him, convinced that what she'd seen and heard was a figment of her imagination. A trick of the light. Anything other than what she thought she'd seen.

    It wasn't, though: he was moving, he was breathing. He couldn't stop shivering.

    And he was probably going to die if she didn't get him somewhere dry and warm, soon. For real, that time.

    Elise cautiously approached, again. The man looked over at her as she did, his eyes wide in shock and fear, like a cornered animal.

    "Easy, now," Elise said as she knelt down next to him, again. "You know what's goin' on?"

    For a few seconds, he just stared at her. Shivering. Teeth chattering. "Th-the Giskens... w-where...?"

    Elise frowned. Gisk was Caithia's neighbor, on the other side of Mount Harmon from there.

    "Ain't no Giskens 'round here," Elise said. "Matter of fact, ain't anybody for miles. 'Cept you."

    He continued to stare at her. He didn't seem to understand what was happening.

    Elise knew what she had to do: she had to get him back to the house, get him next to the fire, get something warm in his stomach. But, she also knew full well what Pa would say about it. One of the first things he'd drilled into their heads as kids was to never trust outsiders. "Better to live alone than to get backstabbed," Pa always said. Bringing him to the house put them in danger. Especially if he realized what that homestead was doing all the way out there and decided to report it to someone who wouldn't take some moonshine as a bribe.

    Besides: Pa was also still out there somewhere. Maybe hurt. Maybe dead. Her mind knew that Pa needed her priority, not some man that she'd only just met.

    But, her heart knew that she had to help him. Odds were: Pa was just fine. The man in front of her wouldn't be if she didn't help him.

    Gods, let this be the right decision!

    Elise took him by the arm - the one he hadn't gotten shot through - and draped it over her shoulders, intent on lifting him up. The man didn't fight her. "C'mon: let's get you warmed up."

***

    Elise dragged the man over the threshold. Panting, dripping with sweat. She estimated that she'd only half dragged, half carried him about a mile, but that was enough to make her legs shake, her arms and shoulders groan with effort. It took every ounce of strength she had to set him down in her chair by the fire and not outright drop him.

    Once he was sitting down, Elise walked over to the door and began to hang up her coats and her gun. Then, she started gathering up all the spare quilts and blankets she could get her hands on, building a makeshift bed right in front of the fire. "We've gotta get you outta those wet clothes: you'll catch your death if we don't."

    He groaned in response.

    Once his bed was ready, Elise picked him up, again, and laid him down. Since she'd found him, he'd been in and out of consciousness. Even when he was conscious, he didn't seem to fully grasp what was going on. In that moment, he was out cold. Entire body shaking, teeth chattering, face screwed up in pain.

    For a few seconds, Elise just sat there, looking down at him. Trying to gather up the nerve to start undressing him. What if he woke up while she was doing it and got the wrong idea?