Page 8 of First Sight

I don’t want to be anywhere near another man with weapons, but I’m desperate to have my hands free. At this moment I have to make a choice, either trust a stranger and hope he doesn’t hurt me, or try to figure out how to make it on my own even though I’m exhausted and scared to death. I don’t have time to analyze my recent track record for making the wrong choices in my life, all I know is I’m desperate for this man to be nothing like the other two who attacked me.

Hesitantly, I shift my arms so I’m closer and he can reach me better, but keeping the rest of my body as far from him as physically possible. He slips the knife between my wrists and with one swift tug it slices through the zip tie. Just like that, I’m free.

I stare at my raw wrists, flooded with relief. I didn’t know if I was going to make it through this day alive, but having my hands back after being bound for hours gives me just an ounce of hope that everything will be okay. I use that feeling of hope to spur myself forward. On shaky arms, and barely moving legs, I inch through the tall grass toward the tree. I glance back at this new mystery man, expecting him to be following me but he’s still in the same spot.

“I’m right behind you, but I need to make sure they don’t try to cross the river and sneak up on us. Keep going.” His commanding voice is steady and sure, giving me the assurance I need to propel forward.

I keep my eyes forward, barely able to make out the bark on the trunk of the tree through the tall grass, but my new wave of determination refuses to let me quit. At what feels like a snail’s pace, I crawl to the backside of the tree trunk and collapse. Breathing heavily, I barely have a chance to catch my breath when a large body crashes down next to me, again. It startles me, but it’s short-lived.

He easily covered the distance from the river bank in seconds versus what took me minutes. This new man is still a stranger, but so far his company is much preferred over the other two. I’ll take what help I can get at this point. At least until my lungs stop burning, or my legs feel a little less gel-like.

“They never came out of the tree line or attempted to cross the river, so they might have given up,” he tells me, “but they could’ve just needed time to regroup.” He doesn’t look at me as he talks, still facing the river, anticipating any threats.

“You going to tell me what the fuck is going on?” He calmly asks me after a couple of minutes of silence. His voice is low and rough, but not at all harsh, as if he isn’t the slightest bit disturbed by what’s happening.

I glance up into his face, as he kneels next to me using the log to prop up his gun. Caught off guard when I meet his eyes, not expecting to see such obvious concern, but also the deepness in his gray eyes is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Like, dark storm clouds before it rains. My eyes linger on them while I formulate my answer, still trying to process the events of today myself. I decide the best I can do is vocalize some of the questions that are racing through my head.

“I wish I could tell you anything that makes sense, but those guys kidnapped me off the side of the road. I don’t know why, I don’t know where we were when I got away, I don’t know where they were taking me, I don’t know where I am now. They were pissed when I ran, they were even angrier when I fought back, but I was not going to die today, I was not going to make it easy on them,” I ramble, choking back a sob. Tears started pouring out of my eyes at some point and I have to wipe them from my cheeks. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know why you are helping me or if I can even trust you, I just know that I’ll try to kill you if I have to.” I end my blubbering speech, looking directly into his stormy eyes, so he knows how serious I am. I’m too pissed off and exhausted to care anymore.

After a few seconds of studying me intently, he finally responds, “You’re safe with me, I promise.”

That’s all he says, he doesn’t reply to any other part of my rambling. He doesn’t act offended at all by my threat to kill him if I need to. If anything, he seems pleased by it.

Maybe, it’s the fatigue of the last few hours, or my brain isn’t firing on all cylinders, but my intuition is telling me that he’s being honest. I think I’m safe with him.

At that realization, I let my head fall back against the trunk of this rotting tree and shut my eyes against the tears continuing to spill down my cheeks. I think I’m going to be okay.

Chapter Six

Nathan

There will never be anything more admirable to me than a survivor. And that’s what this woman is. She has been through hell, emotionally and physically. Her face and hands are covered in dirt, she has blood coming out of wounds on her wrists, a split in her bottom lip, and what looks to be a dark purple bruise forming right above her temple on her forehead. She is soaking wet from the waist down from crossing the river, and I can see her body shivering uncontrollably.

Her sweatshirt is torn in a few places, and strands of her hair are falling loose from her hair tie, pieces of twigs and leaves stuck in various places, the evidence of running through the thick brush and branches in these woods I’m sure.

Her head rests against the tree, tears rolling down from beneath her closed eyelids. Even with the path of wetness that the tears are leaving on her cheeks, she doesn’t seem distressed, but more so trying to collect herself.

Her breathing is evening out, and aside from the trembling, whether it be from the cold water she was in or her adrenaline crashing, her muscles aren’t tensed as if she is prepared to run. She hasn’t said as much, but I’m hoping her body language is an indication that she trusts me. Or, at least believes that I’m not going to hurt her. Trust can come later. She doesn’t know me or my work history. All she knows is that I’m a strange man, and men are usually a woman’s biggest threat in life. I understand if she might be hesitant around me for a while.

As much as I don’t want to do this to her, we have to keep moving. Even behind the cover of this fallen tree, we are sitting ducks. I need her to push herself farther, at least until we are in the coverage of the forest. It’s another 30 yards to the tree line, then a mile to where I parked my 4-wheeler.

I give her another minute, letting her compose herself. I am keeping a close watch on the ridge. I haven’t seen any sign of the two men from the river bank. I’m positive I at least wounded both of them, maybe if I’m really lucky they’re bleeding out in the woods where they’ll be picked apart by scavengers.

All the things I did, and was ordered to do in the army, I sometimes wondered if I was just as bad as enemies we fought. Witnessing a situation like this reaffirms the real evil that lurks in this world. If it weren’t for the risk of exposure while crossing that river, I would’ve run after those guys in an instant and put a bullet between their eyes. I’d make sure they saw it coming.

I push my anger aside. I need to focus on getting her safe, that’s the priority.

“We’ve got to keep moving.” I pause, waiting for her reaction. She peeks her eyes open, staring off towards the cloud-covered sky with fluttering eyelashes. The look of serenity on her face, despite her current situation distracts me for a moment. Her eyes and cheeks are red from crying, and the bruise on her forehead is getting darker by the minute, yet she’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.

“Okay,” she says quietly, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks, and looking at me finally. Her voice draws my attention to her lips and the cut there. It doesn’t look too deep, but it’s probably uncomfortable. It will heal up in a few days, but it pisses me off that two grown men had the nerve to hurt her.

My eyes linger on her mouth a second too long and when I shift my focus back up her face, I’m met with hazel eyes. A mix of blue and green that looks bright in contrast to the redness rimming her eyelids. She’s looking at me, waiting for instruction, but I’m stuck. It takes me longer than needed to formulate my next sentence. I clear my throat, blaming it on the chaos of this situation, or maybe because this is the most I’ve spoken to anyone in months.

“How are your feet?” I ask, knowing her shoes are still soaked from wading through the water.

“Uhh, I’m not sure, they feel pretty numb.” She moves her feet back and forth as if to wiggle her toes, testing her movements.

“Do you think you can walk to that tree line?” I gesture over my shoulder to the woods that she is facing. “Once we get out of this clearing we should be alright. Even if they try to follow us they won’t be able to track us, it’s too overgrown.”

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