The Last of the Pure

Six

It was still dark when I woke up. Even darker than before as the sky had taken on that eerie middle-of-the-night darkness that occurs just before the light begins to hide the stars. I was wrapped in a sweatshirt I’d never seen, my head resting on a second, balled up sweatshirt. I inhaled the wonderful smell and it almost felt familiar, but I guess I could write that off as having been encompassed by it while sleeping.

I could hear fire crackling nearby and I sat up, realizing suddenly why it was that I was asleep in the woods.

I wondered immediately who held me captive, if I was captive at all, and who it was that had picked me up just before I was knocked out.

I heard footsteps somewhere behind me and when I turned I could see a figure dropping more wood and brush into the fire.

I watched them sit back into a lawn chair, poking at the fire with a stick, and decided to join them.

There was a second lawn chair across the fire and, tugging the sweatshirt around me and sliding my arms inside, I made my way over and sat in the cozy chair.

It was a boy, the last face I saw before I blacked out. He looked to be maybe eighteen or nineteen, but I figured that was nowhere near correct. His hair was dark brown with an almost coppery tint, and his eyes were a strange combination of blue and green. He was tall, his knees extremely bent in his chair, and he was lean and toned and beautiful. I couldn’t deny that; he was absolutely captivating.

We stared at each other across the fire and he seemed so familiar, one of those things you just can’t seem to put your finger on.

I wondered how long I’d been out here with him, how long he’d been waiting for me to wake up. I wanted to ask what he was planning to do with me, but I didn’t feel scared. Mostly I was just curious of his intentions.

“I’m not going to hurt you or anything,” he said, almost like he was answering a question.

“I know,” I found myself saying, but I felt stupid immediately after the words left my mouth. “What time is it?”

“Just after four,” he answered curtly.

We were both silent then and I felt like I should thank him for rescuing me tonight. I wanted to ask where the others had gone, what had happened in the fight, and about an array of other nagging inquiries, but I felt so awkward. I didn’t want to annoy him with my questions and didn’t want to bother him any more than I already had. He looked at me then, and there was something in that look that had me blushing at my internal insecurities.

“They had to be out of their freaking minds bringing you out there today,” he mumbled after a while. I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “You haven’t even started developing yet have you?”

He was looking at me seriously, like he was about to lose it, so I just shook my head, tugging the sweatshirt tighter around my body.

“You could have been killed,” he said, shaking his head grimly. “You would have been killed had Lucas been there. What? Did they think you would be a good distraction? That he would see you and be caught off guard?”

I shrugged then, not sure what else to do.

“I was supposed to be observing,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You shouldn’t have been left out there unguarded. I don’t know how they could be so carelessly reckless with you. But, I guess it’s not like you’re matched to any of them, so why should they care? Anything to level out the playing field, right?” he was speaking softly, but he was angry. “How is your head feeling? Jacob hit you pretty hard out there.”