Forgotten Pines: The Chronicle of the Kodnikado

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY- FIVE

Max
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The man's name was Brant Malkin. A 33 year old forester working for Mr. White's research facility.

"You okey kid?"

I glanced up as Mr. Malkin returned, from wherever he had gone, with a wooden bowl and a wash cloth. "Here". He handed both objects to me. "Clean your cut".

I felt my insides turn when I caught sight of the discolored water in the bowl. "What is this?"

Sewage water?

That's what it looked like anyways.

"Herbel water. It'll help with cleaning the wound". He explained in a gruff voice.

"It's a tiny cut". I murmered. I couldn't even feel it hurting.

"It's a gash kid".

I dipped the wash cloth into the sewage water then pressed it gently against the cut on my forehead. While I did this I let my eyes roam the living room.

Compared to Uncle Gavin's cabin this place was tiny. The living room was hardly bigger then the bedroom I was staying in. With rustic walls, a lit fireplace, and a few chairs made out of wood. It had an odd smell. Like if someone were to mix together a whole bunch of cooking herbs.

There was a rack above the fireplace- made out of antlers- with two identical rifles on show.

A grandfather clock sat in the corner near a tiny hallway. It's pendulum was slowly swinging, but the hands weren't moving. It wasn't telling the time.

"I think your clock is broken". I mumbled with a look in Mr. Malkin's direction.

He was sitting on a foot stool a few paces away. He looked kinda like a frog. With both his legs bent at and odd angle, and his arms resting on either.

He had pulled his hair back into a man bun sometime earlier which defiantly improved his outer appearance. He didn't look so much like a crazed hillbilly anymore.

"It hasn't been working since I moved into this place". He responded.

"How long have you been staying here?" I asked. My voice trembled a bit, and I mentally cursed myself.

"A few years".

My eyes flickered to the kitchen which was connected to the living room. A pile of canned foods were distributed over the leaning table. A few jugs of water were sitting atop the rusting fridge.

Kinda made me think of those zombie survival movies when the poeple stock up on nessecities to last them through the next few months.

"Your not like a prepper or anything... right?" I asked.

"A what?"

"You know, someone who prepares for the end of the world?"

"I'm a scientist kid".

Is that a yes?

"I spend alot of time in these woods carrying out research for my work. I don't get into town much. When I do I usually stock up".

I took the wash cloth away from my forehead and grimaced when I saw the stain it was creating.

I must've caught myself good on that branch. I didn't even know branches could do more then scratch you.

"You said you were sleepwalking?" Malkin asked.

"Mmh". I hummed.

I propped my left foot on my knee and leaned closer so that I could see the damage done by the sticks and thorns I ran over.