The Honey House

Wake Up Call

"She's awake."

Rae's eyes flicked towards a woman's voice only to see the back of a head scurrying from the room. The walls were dark grey concrete, no windows. Fear channeled into her body, funneling fast shallow breaths through her lips. Her hand fumbled under the crisp white sheet to find the pain that was throbbing at her side.

She was wearing a mens pale blue dress shirt which she hitched up to see her injury. She tore off the fresh bandage to see her own mangled blue stitches gone, replaced with a neat row of little black lines. The puckered flesh around the stitches was ugly and red but it looked clean and as well maintained as she could have expected.

There was a glass of water sat atop a crate next to Rae's bed. She reached for it, wincing at the stretch of her sore skin. She consumed the entire length without a breath before wiping the back of her hand along her dry lips.

A million questions began to pound across her brain before all thoughts quickly turned to Jacob. Shit . Rae only had one thought and it was to get out of this place as quickly as possible.

Her legs were tingling with pins and needles. She urged them awake, slapping her hand along her calves and thighs before easing them out of bed onto the rough concrete floor that was never poured for barefeet.

She wondered if an industrial room like this one belonged at The Refuge where Jacob lived with his people. She'd driven past the place many times before the world ended. Past the rolling fields and thick clusters of trees that surrounded the facility she'd only ever caught glimpses of the building that catered for recovering addicts of all variety just as long as they could pay the large bills that accompanied the treatment plans.

One last glance at the windowless walls told her she could be in a basement. The idea of being underground made her stomach turn over and gave her the burst of adrenaline she needed to force her aching body to its feet.

Rae stumbled out the door only to be caught in a man's hands.

"You shouldn't be moving," he insisted. He wasn't a big man, nor did he seem particularly strong but it didn't take much force for him to push her back onto the bed.

"I'm Carson," he adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his dark hair, "I've been looking after you. I have to say it was touch and go for a while." His smile was smug and he was still looking pretty pleased with himself as he reached for her injury.

Rae flinched away from his advances.

"Woah..." he hesitated, "I just want to check you haven't messed up your stitches."

Rae held her side, "I haven't," the words came out through laboured breaths, her eyes drooping heavily as the rush of adrenaline seemed to fade away.

"It's the meds, they make you... woozy."

Rae forced her eyes wider, trying to fight the sluggish feeling. "Give me my things. I'm leaving," she commanded in her best attempt to sound authoritative.

Carson shifted uneasily from foot to foot, "I-"

"That's no fucking way to say thank you is it?" a voice boomed as a man overtook the doorway before strutting into the room.

Rae recognised the man from the road immediately. He had the kind of self assured smirk that a person didn't easily forget.

"Leave" he commanded, looking directly at her but talking to Carson, who was quick as lighting to scurry away like a terrified rabbit who'd sniffed out a predator.

Rae tugged at the blanket pulling it over her legs to avoid the way his dark eyes caressed her skin so intense that she could almost feel the way he looked at her. There was no point playing games, she was pretty certain she'd lose, "what do you want from me?"