The Land of the Lost

Ch.7 Jack

I shifted a little, becoming aware of the weight of the blanket that lay on top of me.

Man, it's unusually warm this morning.

Keeping my eyes closed, I kicked the blanket off of me. It's wool-like texture removing itself from my skin as it slid onto the ground.

Big mistake.

The cold tendrils of the morning air wrapped themselves around me. Laying on my back, I regretfully opened my eyes. I stared at the ceiling, dried herbs and peppers hanging right above my head. I blinked my eyes a few times.

I must be dreaming, or this is some weird prank Amelia's probably pulling on me.

But the more I looked at the ceiling, the more I noticed it wasn't mine.

I quickly sat up, dizziness plaguing my body. Clutching my head with one arm, and supporting myself on the bed with the other, I pulled my legs around to the edge of the mattress and looked at my surroundings.

I sat in a dimly lit room, it's walls made of a dried mud-like plaster. A small wooden table with two chairs sat in the middle.

They were obviously handmade, nails jutted out from their boards, and their slats seemed uneven. A few wooden plates and bowls sat on it, along with a single cup. A lantern sat on top of it as well, the only apparent light source.

Set back into the wall, a few hot coals burned. Above them hung a large black pot, steam rising from its lid into the small opening above. To the left sat a small door, and to the left of that sat a few cupboards and hanging flower pots for decoration. Despite the table and "kitchen", the room was otherwise bare. The floor was made of the same material as the walls, a single rug lay beneath my feet. My shoes set nicely on top of it.

I looked down at the bed I was sitting on, it was not your typical mattress. It was more like a cot, a single leather hide pulled tight at the corners to provide support. The wool blanket still crumpled on the floor where it had dropped earlier this morning.

Dried herbs, mud walls? Isn't a small man with large hairy feet supposed to walk in any second asking about a ring?

[ That was a Lord of the Rings reference. If you didn't get it that's your problem.]

Realizing just how strange the room was, the memories of the previous day flooded back to me. I hurriedly grabbed my shoes off the ground and slid them on, rapidly tying the laces.

They must have found me. But who are "they"?

Trying not to get ahead of myself, I started towards the door.

I need to get out of here.

I reached for the door handle, but before I grabbed it, it started to turn itself. Stunned, I froze and stepped back a little.

The door opened to reveal a boy, probably a few years older than me. He had long brown hair, hazel eyes, and a somewhat defined jawline. He wore a light brown shirt, several loose strings and holes littered its seams. In his hand was a bucket full of water, and around his waist was a belt laiden with a knife.

His eyes met mine, and he hesitated a bit. We stared at each other for a few seconds, shock apparent on both of our faces. He was the first to speak.

"Uh-, you-, uh.... Good morning????," he stuttered in a relatively thick southern accent that I wasn't quite familiar with.

Caught off guard and looking for a distraction, he looked behind me to the table, signaling he wanted to pass by. Still a little bewildered, I stepped out of his path to let him through.

Uhhhhhh, who the f*** is this guy?

I watched him jostle in towards the table, taking off his belt and setting it down amongst the silverware. He then turned towards the corner where the fire sat, and placed down the bucket of water.

Proceeding back to the table, he took a seat. As if forgetting my presence, he looked back towards me, noticing how disheveled I looked.

"Please! Sit down!" he politely urged. I looked at him cautiously.

How do I know he isn't going to try to kill me? But if he wanted to he probably would've already done it... maybe he just wanted to help? But I've never met him before!?

God I think too much.

I realized how heavy my head was again. I was still mentally and physically drained from the night before. It was probably better for me to stay and gain a little more strength before venturing out alone. Plus, maybe I would be able to find out what exactly happened.

I took a seat across from him. My body was thankful that I could put my support on something other than its own legs.

I looked up at him, my eyes burning with questions.

"Oh, uh- yes, this is where I introduce myself. The name's Jack. Welcome to my humble abode. Built it myself you know." He stopped talking, looking towards me for a reply. I still eyed him warily, not sure what to think.

[ I knew what to think. This guy was a total dork.]

Taking my lack of a reply as a sign, he tried to spark some more conversation.

"I didn't know when you'd wake up. You've been out.... What has it been, 1...2... 3...nights?" He counted on his fingers, as if trying to stall time. "4 nights I'd say! You must've been hit pretty hard! When I first got there, you were completely unconscious. I thought he had already killed you!"

I've been asleep for that long?!

Jack continued, " Its strange though. I saw no sign of injury on you, only on the other two..." he trailed off. Looking back at me, he gave me his same questioning eyes, waiting for me to say something. I guess he must've been the one that shot Seth. He's probably dangerous, but he seems to be on my side...

I shifted some more in my seat, sitting up a little straighter.

I guess an introduction should do.

I cleared my throat.

"Well, I guess I should thank you. After all, you saved my life... As for my name, it's Olive, but you can just call me Vee. Pleasure to meet you."

He gave me a smile. Happy that I spoke, he nodded his head appreciatively. The tension in the room seemed to die down a little. Feeling a little more comfortable, I stuck out my hand.

He grabbed onto it, and we shook, shining me a very crooked, but endearing smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Vee."

It was nice to know at least one person wasn't after me.

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