The Names Our Children Will Know

Recovery - Draft One

Somehow, they found water. Jordan found a tiny pond on their side of the river. It was crystal clear and looked like a mirage, but it was exactly what they needed. They washed everything–the blanket, Ghost, they even splashed around in the water themselves for a while. It felt good to at least be a little clean. Afterward, they lit a fire to dry everything off.

The afternoon passed, but still Tessa didn't wake up. They washed the blood out of her hair and off her face. She was left with a nasty bruise and a few cuts, but nothing too serious, it seemed.

They wrapped Tessa in the blanket again once it was dry and took turns watching over her through the night, but even then, it wasn't until the next morning that she even stirred.

The night was long, and sometime between midnight and moonset, Mark had fallen asleep next to Tessa. He woke up slumped on his side with his back against hers and the one blanket they had left stretched between them.

Mark sat up. Tessa was curled up in a ball and shivering uncontrollably. He frowned and wrapped the blanket more securely around her, thinking she was cold. She just shivered all the harder, drawing in closer to herself. Mark wasn't sure what she was dreaming about, but it didn't seem pleasant. He shook her gently, trying to wake her up.

"Tessa, wake up, dearest." It was the same tone he had used with Ghost before he had sent them on their disastrous adventure. "Tessa, wake up. You're safe now." His soft voice cut through the fog of Tessa's dreams like the first ray of sunshine after a week of rain.

Tessa's eyes opened, but she didn't stop shaking right away. Instead, she pulled the blanket tighter around herself and leaned closer to Mark. At first, he wasn't sure quite how to respond, but after a moment he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and started talking. He thought the sound of another voice might help her.

"Ghost wouldn't leave you, you know. Not even when we were right outside the clearing, she made us come in. She knows she can't pick people up very gently, she has to get other people to do it. You should have seen what she did to the guy that knocked you out, though. He really got her mad.

"We had to backtrack about a mile along the river to get to you. I picked a bad spot to cross and lost us all our stuff. Nearly drowned myself in the process, too, it was pretty embarrassing. Jordan had to fish me out, she..." He kept talking, going on about nothing at all, and eventually Tessa fell into a peaceful sleep.

☀

"You know, I bet this will scar." Tessa was exploring the cuts on her forehead, wincing every time she touched the multi-colored bruise almost covering the side of her face.

"I don't think it was that bad. Your bruises are already healing over, anyway." Mark gave her a cursory glance, making sure she wasn't really hurting herself.

"But I've heard of people who got a complete personality change 'cause they got hit over the head so hard."

"That's an old wives' tale," Mark assured her. "No one really believes that."

It had been four days since what Tessa was now calling the Massacre of the Dead Lands. "Six dead and only two out of seven survived," she'd said. She was only half joking. When Wesson corrected her and said that only five were dead, she gestured angrily to herself still wrapped in the one blanket they had left and asked, "Does this look very alive to you?"

Jordan knew that Tessa was only trying to cover how scared she was. Tessa was so nervous now that the slightest noise made her cower. She didn't sleep anymore, just watched the night pass away. Whoever was on watch wasn't really paying attention to what might have been lurking in the shadows cast by their campfire. They were watching Tessa.