Anthem

Chapter 6 - Jesse

"Who?" Jesse repeated.
The man opened his mouth and then closed it. He seemed lost for words, he knew what he was trying to say but he couldn't get it out right. He was starting to think that the scream from earlier was not Reagan at all, as the cuts all over the figure were relatively fresh. Perhaps he had been unconscious and just woken up?
"Who did this?" he asked again. Patience was essential in situations like this.
The victim grimaced as his jaw clicked, and Jesse found himself staring at the stranger's forehead. A long, red scrap of cloth wrapped and tied around it—well, he wasn't sure red was the original colour. It was thoroughly soaked, tied hastily but secure and tight enough to tell that the man's wounds were starting to clot. Good. The material was ribbed—woven, and if the fabric was any indication it was unmistakably Reagan's.
Reagan was here. Or had been; that explained what he'd heard earlier... but why leave? This man was on the verge of death, clinging to life, and she had just left him? Something to think about at another time. The man before him was utmost priority.
As Jesse began attending to the injuries, he couldn't stop thinking about Reagan. Okay, so maybe this man wasn't at the top of his mind, but he needed to be. Jesse sighed and released all his thoughts relating to Reagan.
If he wasn't ready to share what had occurred, perhaps he had memory loss. Amnesia wasn't unlikely. Looked like there had been a powerful blow to the base of his skull; the man was lucky he could see, despite stay conscious at all. The victim began to perspire, a light sheen spreading over his face and down his neck. He was struggling.
"Open your eyes, try some deep breathing okay? Focus on me," Jesse said in a low, calm voice.
The struggling slowed until the man's shaking fist at last lay open and his ragged breathing turned slow and deep.It wasn't long before the seizures began again. Jesse couldn't do anything, he wouldn't make it. But he had to.
When the man woke up he didn't know where he was. That much was evident when he reached for the twisted knife at his side. Obviously, Jesse has taken it, he had no idea who this man was and wasn't going to put his trust in a stranger.
The man looked upward and instantly groaned at the dim light and sudden movement, jolting his head back down only to make it worse. He hadn't noticed Jesse yet, who could tell by his dazed state that the stranger must be suffering some memory loss. A quick glance to his battered head skull proved as evidence for that. With another grimace, the victim heaved his body to twist around, meeting Jesse's eye.
"I need you to concentrate on me."
His voice seemed to bother the man. The gurgle that escaped his mouth was impossible to decipher, but the fact that he'd responded seemed answer enough.
Jesse thought back to his training with the Wilder Assault. It was vital to act fast, and his memories of time with the squadron flooded back to him. They had taught him well. Breathing - check. Recognition - check. Coherence - good enough.
The sound of the village's nearby sheep seemed to awaken him further.
"Mmhere mi?" the man choked. He tried again, "where 'm I?"
"Just in the bushland around the campsite. But that doesn't matter now, we'll figure everything out later," Jesse said the words quickly, assessing him, "I'm going to have to hoist you up."

+++

"Jesse," Reagan said as she walked through the door to her room, turning the corner to see him waiting at the end of her bed. She flinched at the surprise of finding him there.
"You came back," he replied scornfully.
"I'm sorry,'' she mumbled, "I don't know, I- I just thought-" she couldn't look him in the eye, instead staring at the floor.
"Is he okay?" She finally said. "I don't know. He was in a bad way, Reagan. He might not pull through."
"I just didn't want to be held responsible... if something were to happen to him," she started.
"What were you thinking? He could have died, still might die, because you left him," his words weren't menacing, they questioned her seriously.
"Exactly," she said, her voice more confident, "I didn't want to be associated with anything that happened to him... but I guess it was too late. I wanted to leave him but I couldn't just do nothing about it I.. I'm sorry."
"But you've got to realise that that would never have worked, if anything it made you look worse. It's too many sorry's, Reagan, that just won't cut it. You essentially left a man for dead!
You can't just do whatever you like, whenever you feel like it!" he seethed, voice rising, "These are people's lives we're talking about. People who have put their safety at risk by offering you a place to stay and you think sorry is going to make up for that? I-I just can't."
Jesse headed for the door, Reagan saying nothing. Amidst his anger he didn't realise if it was better or worse for her to be silent. He left. The slamming door the only sign of his departure.