Forgotten

Chapter 3: Katy

My heart beat races as I ascend into heaven. But if I'm dead how is my heart beating? I hear a door clatter shut with a bang, then shouts as people stand over me ordering things from cargo. What. The. Actual. Fuck. The pain in the burns is like a dragon breathing fire onto my body. But I'm dead. How am I feeling pain and hearing voices if I am dead? Is this a sick joke? There is a solitary voice, though, that I catch when I am doubling over into a fetal position, whispering in my ear. So small I can hardly hear it, but it is there.

"Stay with me. You can't die now. I convinced them to save you but if you die, it wouldn't have been worth it. Come on!"

I scream; the pain in my body intense. The smell of ashes and burnt flesh surround me and I can't breathe anymore. Hyperventilating and gasping for breath, I struggle to keep myself in check.

"Knock her out!" I hear someone else scream. A needle jabs into my neck but I hardly notice it. After a few seconds a warm sticky liquid seeps through the needle and into my neck and I begin to fade. The drug is calming and I feel less pain. I stop struggling and my mind wanders through the drug induced haze. But everywhere I turn I hear the voice more and more, urging me to live, to survive. Then my body goes limp and somewhere I hear some random annoying machine project a long, high pitched beep.

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I stare out of the window in the helicopter, watching the rolling clouds beneath us as we fly to D.C. A man, who has introduced himself as Logan Fitsch, stands alertly next to me in my rolling hospital bed, rifle in hand.

"How are you feeling?" He asks inquisitively, still looking out the window.

My voice is still sore from the smoke inhalation, but it does sound more like me now.

"Not good, but better than before." I answer.

"Yeah I can imagine what kind of horrible experience that was."

"Uh, no. No you can't" I say, almost laughing. Just almost.

"No your right," he says chuckling, "I don't think I could ever dream up something like that." He glances over at me and I blush a little. He's older than me, but still young and handsome. The kind of looks that are passed down through generations of Scandinavians. I look away, breaking eye contact, but I can still feel his eyes looking at me.

It's been surreal. 5 hours ago I was dragged out of the burning field, the medics onboard the helicopter have done all they can to help me heal, and I have met someone I'm attracted to. Like, what? I shift my gaze from the glowing view of the Manhattan night below, to him. Tall and muscular, almost paper- white blonde hair, and a perfectly flawless face. He turns towards me and I flick my gaze back to the window but sneak glances at him as we fly along. Black air force uniform, with a crest of an eagle, and several badges and certification numbers pinned to the left side of his chest. We sit in silence before he breaks it by saying,

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't remember, but I was the one who was talking to you as you were being sedated."

I turned to him stunned.

"Why would you risk your life for me? You don't even know me... For fucks sake, you didn't even know if I was alive!"

He answered in a shaky voice stuttering a bit, which was weird. Why is he so nervous?

"I-I felt your presence still in this world somehow. I felt you soul screaming."

I am confused and he notices.

"I really don't know either. But well figure out our connection later, okay?" He says it and immediately I put my pinky finger out and he does the same, entwining our pinkies and sealing our promise.

///hey babes. Sorry this chap is shit. Ugh. Needs a ton of editing. But i hope you like Logan. Oooh. Haha. Btw if you want a character named after you just comment. Love you. Next chap coming verryyyy soon. ///