Silhouette (Part One)

Chapter 9

Voices.

The only thing I can hear is voices. Whispers, screams, cries. Male and female, and all of them in pain.

I am in pain too. It burns through me like a poker being heated in a fire, then shoved through my brain into my throat. The fire grows and fades with every breath. If I'm alive, but I must be. I feel pain.

The voices try to speak to me, they plead with me. They question me. They overlap each other, and only a few rise above the rest. Only they make the least sense.

"Stay alive."

"Stay with me."

"Keep an eye on him."

"Who are you?"

"Can you hear me?"

How are people talking to me if I'm lying in the woods, alone, dying and unconscious.

More pain seared its way into my thoughts, burning. Something was burning. The spicy-sweet aroma of burning cedar logs filled my nose with every breath. Something stirred in my chest, and a little window appeared in the darkness. Through it I could see a family sitting in front of a large fireplace. My Dad, Mom, Sister, and me. The occasional crackle from the fire split the silence. No one said anything, and we didn't seem to actually be in our own home.

I took a deep breath to smell more of the aroma, but the window was fading. It faded into nothing, and I was left in the darkness again. How long was I going to be unconscious, and where did the aroma go? I took another deep breath and the pain flared up again. It burned my chest, but the aroma came back. How do I....

My eyes fluttered open to a gentle tap on the cheek. I was staring up at the most beautiful face I had seen since... Well. Never. Not even the most famous celebrities had anything on whoever was looking at me right now. Her crystal blue eyes stared down at me with a concern I had never seen before.

A small gasp escaped her perfect pink lips, and her deep brown hair flowed over pale skin when she moved to leave. She disappeared from view, and I heard a door open then shut, confirming that she left.

I felt dizzy and disoriented. So I decided to sit up. Pain shot through my stomach and up to my head, laying me back now on the bed with a groan. Instead of trying that again, I tried to survey the room I was in. With a now throbbing head, the cozy, dimly lit room was a wash of brown colors. A few bits of green were here and there, but most of it was brown. Almost a log cabin feel going on. At least it wasn't all one color.

I heard the door open and close again, and I turned to face the approaching person. A tall man was approaching the bed I had been laid on. His soft brown eyes were a bit sunken in his long, filed face, but that didn't take away from his curly black hair. It was spotted with gray and had started to recede from his forehead; he didn't seem to mind though. His crisp gray suit stood out against the color of the room, making him easily discernible. Little did this man know the person he was approaching was here to kill him.

Henri Geritan.

"You took quite the fall there young man." He looked down at me with a frown. "Tell me, please. What were you doing, parachuting or whatever, in this valley?"

I hadn't been prepared with a reason, mostly because I hadn't planned on getting caught, or rescued. Whichever works. A lump started forming in my throat, but I cleared it and replied as evenly as possible. "I had planned on camping in a clearing. One I had been to before with my dad. He died a few months ago in a crash. I wanted to relive the memory one last time."

"And you were parachuting in?" His eyes watched mine intently, analyzing every word.

"No actually." I relaxed a little, not realizing how tense I had become.