Spiraled ⚪⭐⚪⭐ (A Brollins Novel)✔

EPISODE THREE

Daniel's House. Orlando, Florida.

It's still raining when the van comes to halt. From where Colby sits at the back of the van with the woman's head lying on his lap, he can't make out his surroundings because of the raindrops pelted on the van windows, obscuring his vision. He gazes down at her for what feels like the hundredth time, checking to see if she's still alive. Her pulse is getting weaker and although there's enough warmth in the van, she's still cold, her face flushed white. He presses his palm firmly on the bandage around her wrist—as the man had instructed—to prevent her from losing more blood.

The gusty wind embraces him in its chillness, droplets of rain smashing him in the face as the door of the van opens. "Hurry," the man shouts over the loud echoes of the rain, holding out the door for him to step out.

Gingerly, he clutches the limp body of the woman and steps out into the rain. The green raincoat the man wears is the only thing that guides him along as he races after the man to a house. The man fumbles through the pockets of his raincoat and retrieves a set of keys which he jams into the keyhole. Once the door is unlocked, he urges Colby inside and into a dim room. Colby places the woman carefully on the bed before brushing tendrils of dirty hair from her face. The man switches on the lights and runs out of the room, returning a few minutes later with a bowl of clean water, a dry cloth and a first-aid kit.

Colby moves aside to crouch at the foot of the bed, giving the man room so he can attend to the woman. He silently watch as the man wipes the blood and dirt off the woman's face with the damp cloth. A shudder lance through him as the cloth he'd wrapped around her wrist is removed, revealing a nasty, bloody wound which was bound to get infected sooner than later without medical attention.

"What's your name," the man asks, gaze fixed on the damp cloth he's using to clean the bloody wrist.

Colby blinks at the abrupt question, "Colby. Colby Lopez."

"I'm Daniel," he glances back at Colby with a smile, "don't worry. She'll be alright. You did well by bandaging the cloth around her wrist. She would've lost a lot more blood otherwise. Let's just hope fever doesn't kick in anytime soon."

Colby nods, rubbing his palms together to generate some heat into his numb fingers. His eyes never stray away from the woman's pale face, looking at her for the tiniest bit of reaction. He just wish she can speak, just for a little bit of assurance. Daniel puts tissue on the gash at her head before wrapping a bandage around it. "Doesn't she need. . . . I don't know, a doctor? Won't a hospital be more of a suitable option?"

"Do you even have any idea about where you are," he inquires, stitching up her wrist. With the way his hands moves so deftly and knowingly over the woman's injuries, the man must know what he's doing. Colby feels foolish for asking about a hospital. What the man is doing for them is more than a hospital can ever provide. "A nearby hospital is like two to three hours drive from here."

"I didn't know I was so far away from town. My mind wasn't in the best of places." Colby explains, flinching a bit when the woman took a sudden breath in. "She'll be alright, won't she?"

"I'm a retired doctor. I can handle this pretty well but if you don't trust me, we can get her to a hospital tomorrow."

"I didn't mean it that way. . . ."

"It's alright," Daniel assures, cleaning the woman's face a bit more with the damp cloth. "I get that you're worried about her health. I'll do what I can for her tonight. If she gets worse by morning, we'll take her to a hospital. I'll leave her wrist to dry before we wash it with clean water and soap later." He sits back on his heels, looking at the woman for a long moment. "Let's hope her wounds are only the physical ones."