FUGITIVE

CHAPTER 1

I play with my toes as I see the blood flowing and dripping down my wrist. I became numb to the pain about 5 mins back and now its just a slow, dull ache spreading throughout my arms.I feel fire in my stomach. A hot searing pain shoots as I move my legs around. I can feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness, possibly due to the blood loss. My knees are pulled close to my chest as I sit in the closet and wait for the darkness take me. I can feel hot liquid, continuously burning my cool skin which is now kind of clammy. I slowly feel my eyes close from exhaustion and I get ready to succumb to the pain when I see a flash of bright light as the door to the closet opens. I see the shadow of a figure loom over me and hear a string of profanities before I pass out.

Day 1

I don't recognize the voices around me. They're foreign and I'm still a little groggy from whatever they've pumped me with. I slowly open my eyes to see people walking around in white outfits, who I assume are nurses and I realize that I'm lying in a hospital bed, the absolute last place I want to be in. I try to get up and wince when I feel a sharp pain down my stomach and my arm. As I try to turn around, a cold hand clasps my elbow and stops me from moving around.

I feel the air thicken with tension as I hear two men talking in what I'm assuming is Spanish but the only Spanish I took was in high school, which I've long forgotten.

"Ya está despierta?"

"No, ella todavía está dormida. ella no estará despierta por horas."

"vale, llámame cuando se despierte"

"si."

As the other man leaves the room, I try to squirm and the man holding me bends down to whisper in my ear. "Don't move and don't make a sound. Pretend you're asleep and don't ask any questions. Understood?"

I slowly nod my head and close my eyes. I don't know what day it is, I don't the time, I don't know where I am and I don't think I know how I ended up here. The last thing I remember is him, the knife and the medallion.

Day 2

I wake up with a start, drenched in sweat. That nightmare felt so real, I could almost feel his hand on mine. The images are still groggy in my head and I can't make out his face, but I can smell his cologne as clear as day, almost like it's imprinted in my memory. I open my eyes to see that the blinds are drawn, preventing any sunlight from entering the room. I see a figure sleeping on the couch, and try to form words to wake him up. As I try to sit up, I wince again at the sharp shooting pain and let out a loud cry. The door to the room opens and two armed men enter the room. They start shouting in Spanish and the sleeping figure wakes up. I cannot see his face clearly in the small stream of light entering the room, but I can see him fight the two men and finally hear two gunshots. As I close my eyes in fear, I feel somebody removing all the tubes from my arms and picking me up. I have no option but to hold on and try not to wince in the pain that all the movement is causing me. As I hook my arms around his neck, he puts his lips close to my ear and whispers, "Just hold on to me and don't let go. We're getting out of here, okay? Trust me."

His voice is rough and hoarse, but strangely familiar and comforting. I slowly nod my head and clasp my arms tighter around him. I'm still dressed in the hospital gown and I shiver as I feel cool air hit my skin. He pulls me closer to him, trying to keep me warm. I can hear faint shouts in the background and the occasional gunshot. I try to stay awake and comprehend whatever is happening around me, but my eyes start to close and I pass out.

.........

I wake up to the loud sound of an engine rumbling. I'm lying down on a seat in the back of the vehicle and I can see him driving. He's wearing a bandana around his head, sunglasses and a scarf covers his mouth and neck. I still cannot recognize his face and the only thing I can see is a tattoo creeping up his shoulder blades.

As I try to move around and get up, I notice that I'm no longer wearing the hospital gown and I'm now dressed in slacks and a loose t-shirt.

I feel the heat creeping to my cheeks and lie back down. He notices me moving in the mirror and tosses me a bottle of water.

"Drink up. You cannot be dehydrated. It'll make your condition worse."

I pick up the bottle which had fallen down and unscrew it and take a sip. I instantly feel my stomach cool down and realize how parched my throat actually was.

He passes me a cup filled with what looks like mushy vegetables and a spoon. As I open it, I feel my stomach grumble and I swallow a spoonful. I hungrily wolf down the rest of the vegetables and instantly I feel a little better. I slowly start to notice the bandages around my wrists and my stomach. I study the scars of long gashes on my arm and run my fingers over the scabs.

He watches me from the mirror and sighs.

"I know you probably have a lot of questions and that you're in a lot of pain now. We'll be stopping at a safe house in a while. You'll get all your answers there."

I tear my eyes away from his and look out the window focusing on the darkness of the night. I see flashes of bright light and like an epiphany, with a startling realization I sit up straighter. I think I know who he is.