Trespassing | ongoing

Chapter 3. Bambi Killer

[a/n]: the ending kind of sucks, but just go with it c:

Chapter 3. Bambi Killer

Swallowing the growing lump rising in my throat, I turn around slowly just as the stranger ordered me to. Ready to face an old coot living out in the wilderness by himself with an unshaven beard, the smell of cheap beer on him, and a crazy glimmer in his eyes, I am astonished when I face a young man instead, probably in his early twenties.

He has some stubble of a beard on his chin region, but he is rather handsome and clean cut. His light brown hair isn't long, but short, and his eyes have a glimmer of caution and wonder in them, not a psychotic glimmer. He doesn't smell of cheap beer, but of fresh soap with a hint of evergreen trees and sweat, but not that gross kind of sweat, but the sweat of hard work and dedication. He wears a navy blue T-shirt and a black jacket over it with some denim jeans and boots. His shotgun is steady in his grip and his stormy blues gaze strongly at me as he keeps his finger grazed over the trigger.

"Gotta name?" he asks in somewhat of a Southern accent, just like how a cowboy would talk.

"Maddie Blake." I lie, using my old friends name instead, deciding not to take my chances with a stranger.

"And what're you doing here in my cabin, Maddie Blake?"

"I got separated from my campsite." I reply, keeping my trembling hands up to the air in surrender.

"Campsite? Nobody camps around these parts. Now, tell me the truth." he cocks his gun back and my heart drops to my feet.

"I'm serious; I got lost and tried finding my way back, but it was too dark to see anything. I ended up trekking down that hundred foot cliff and fell down here." I spill my story.

"That would explain the cuts and bruises all over you." he says more to himself than me as he glances me over. "Don't you know not to move from your spot when you're lost? You should've stayed put when you fell down here."

Embarrassed from my idiotic mistake, I stay silent and he changes subjects.

"You here with anyone?" he quizzes.

"No one." I lie, still trying to decide if I should tell him everything.

"You're tellin' me you went camping alone?" he raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes, now would you get that gun out of my face?" I snap, tired of the interrogation.

He raises his weapon higher to me and I swallow my pride, realizing it was foolish to cross him, seeing as how he is just a stranger and God only knows what he is capable of.

"How long've you been out here?" he inquires.

"Two days; you?" I reluctantly ask, slowly dropping my hands from surrendering.

"Two years."

"Oh."

He shakes his head, as if regretting he told me that.

"Alright, get out." he moves his gun toward the door.

"Wait!" I stop him when he begins to move me out the door by using his gun to push me.

"What is it?" he scrunches his eyebrows, appearing agitated from speaking with me.

"I have nowhere else to go. It's below forty degrees out there, I have bruises all over me and the only things I have with me are the clothes on my back." I choose to guilt-ride him.

I am certain I broke my right shoulder blade, but I decided not to tell him because that would reveal my weakness and he could end me right here. And I do have my phone with me as well, but I chose not to tell him that, just in case some things go down and I'm in trouble and end up finding a bar. Plus, I need to contact my parents somehow. All I need is to find one service bar.