Poisoned Waters | ✓

|𝟎𝟐| "𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫"

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃, she gradually awoke in a bright room. She was in a bed, a duvet pulled up to her chest and a pillow resting in the crook of her neck. She certainly missed sleeping on beds, she really had been travelling for a long time. She slowly sat up, feeling every ache in her muscles before her head began to spin, she'd definitely gotten a concussion.

She raised her arm to hold her head still, until she realised she was handcuffed to the bed. She shook the chain in confusion. Where was she? She glanced around, it was an infirmary, and looked built and constructed. It had advanced medical supplies, stuff you'd find in hospitals that would be extremely hard to acquire.

"The fuck are these?" she grunted, tugging at them.

"Oh, you're finally awake," a young man spoke, as he approached. "Just in case you didn't wake up, then they'd have to hit you even harder across the head." He held a chilled ice pack which he handed to her. "You've been out cold for almost a day now, your brother seemed like he was getting sickeningly worried." he faintly chuckled.

   "My brother?" she croaked. The man hummed, pulling off the black mask that hindered his warm South Asian features, and gently smiled.

   "Yeah, West. He went all apeshit, when they found out it was you that was causing ruckus on our land—we thought it was much worse people. He said that your name is Monet?" he said. She nodded, doing her best to sit up but unable to get past the excruciating pain in her cuffed, left arm. "Yeah, be careful with yourself, there,"

   "Where am I?" she grumbled painfully.

   "Safe. Safer than you were before, you almost got torn apart and then also gunned down. We thought, for a second, that you were a threat until Noah wanted to help you out." He moved to the medical table, fiddling with an aid box. "Knocking you upside the head with a rifle was one hell of an exaggeration, but I don't make the rules." That explained the concussion; and it didn't take long for Monet to recall the events that led to that moment.

   "Who's Noah?" she asked.

   "He's the 'ringleader', as I like to call him, of this community," he said, as he turned back to her once more. "I'll let them know you're awake, and get you some munch, you're probably starving. In the meantime, get some rest before I start some check-ups."

   "Wait, what's your name?" Monet abruptly interrupted, as he walked to the exit.

"Monty." he smiled lightly and left. Monet tried to relax in the silence of the infirmary. Her left shoulder was definitely disjointed and the pain radiated through every bit of her body—she hoped she'd never have to jump a building ever again.

   It took a while but Monty finally returned with cooked rabbit with vegetables and a canister of water for Monet. He removed the handcuffs and she ate it all without hesitation and then Monty proceeded to tend to her wounds, while he briefed her on the community.

   "Everwinter?" It rolled off Monet's tongue, as she repeated it to Monty. He nodded to her, as he cleaned the final wound that she had across her stomach, she sat in front of him in only her bra, as he patted the bleeding cut with antiseptic.

   "Yeah, it's the name of this place. Noah, Zara and Mackenzie, you'll meet them soon, all built it up from scratch, and they've been pushing through for a few years now." Monet looked impressed. No wonder the medical equipment looked so highly advanced.

   "Wow," was all she could say.

   "Yeah, it's pretty amazing. Noah is kind of hard to cope with, he's a little intimidating at points and real hard-headed and paranoid with decisions, but he means well. He just wants to live in peace." Monty elaborated.