Page 36 of Taunting Tarran
‘You need stitches!’ Rachel says urgently, examining his wound.
‘I’m sure I saw some fishing line in the back when I had a shower,’ Paul replies through gritted teeth as he looks at Anna.
‘Then, that will have to do. Sarah, grab that bottle of vodka on the side. Anna, can you fetch the line?’ Rachel instructs, with a steady and authoritative voice.
‘Sure,’ Anna nods.
‘And I need some scissors to trim the hair around the wound,’ Rachel adds.
‘I’ve got a razor!’ Sarah offers.
‘No, that will only increase the risk of infection. Kitchen scissors will suffice,’ Rachel corrects.
When the wound is dressed, thefincaplunges into darkness as we follow Paul’s lead. The air is charged with unease – every creak, every whisper from outside feels amplified.
Rachel works quickly, her hands steady despite the chaos of the moment. She sterilizes the fishing line with vodka, before threading it through a needle she pulled from her bag. When she cleans the gash with another splash of vodka, Paulhisses sharply, his body jerking from the sting, but he doesn’t protest.
‘Hold still,’ she murmurs.
We all watch in anxious silence as Rachel stitches the gash in Paul’s arm with steady hands. The makeshift surgery is grueling, but Rachel’s calm demeanor keeps the other girls grounded. When she finishes, Rachel instructs Paul to apply light pressure on the wound with one finger for around ten minutes to minimise the bleeding. She then applies a sterile dressing from the first aid kit. ‘That should stop the bleeding,’ she says, finally allowing herself a moment to breathe.
The place is eerily silent.
Outside, the forest seems to hold its breath, the stillness pressing against my senses as I wait for something to move. And then, a loud pounding shatters the silence, rattling the door handle desperate to get in.
‘Anyone in there or have you all gone to bed?’ the voice asks.
‘Grandpops!’ Paul is on his feet before he registers the pain in his arm, and relief washes over us as John walks inside.
‘Where on earth have you been?’ Paul demands.
‘For a walk,’ he says casually, though his eyes don’t miss the bandage strapped to his arm. ‘What’s happened?’
Paul takes a steady breath as he closes the door. ‘We need to leave. Now. There’s something out there, dangerous.’
‘Oh, my goodness, is everyone all right?’ John asked with concern.
‘Yes, fortunately,’ one of the girls responds, but the room falls into a heavy, uneasy hush. I catch the girls exchangingworried glances.
‘What do you mean, dangerous?’ John inquires.
‘I don’t know, it wasn’t human.’
That’s a relief. I can handle animals.
‘But the rental car’s tyres have been slashed?’ Anna says. ‘What kind of animal would do that?’
That’s true.
‘We have to leave on foot,’ Sarah suggests.
‘No!’ Paul snaps. ‘We’ll wait for daybreak. Then we’ll leave. Best we try and sleep.’
John shrugs, ‘He’s right. If anyone knows how to hot-wire a car, there’s one broken down not far from here. I passed it on my walk.’
The weight of the long day presses down on us, and before long, we’re dragging our sorry arses to the bedrooms. Emma and I claim the first room, its modest charm a temporary solace, while Paul and John each take their own. Sarah, Rachel, and Anna pile into the largest bed, their laughter softening into whispers before the quiet of exhaustion settles over the house.
But sleep doesn’t last. The events of the day refusing to settle comfortably within me, like lingering shadows in the corners of my mind.
