Page 4 of This Blood That Binds Us
I shifted under the force of his gaze. “Nice to meet you.”
“How are you feeling? You’re a very lucky young lady. You lost a lot of blood.”
“That’s what they tell me. I feel fine. But my shoulder is a little sore when I move it back and forth.”
He offered a small, accepting smile. “That’s normal. It will feel sore for a week or two. There’s some pain medication I’m goingto send you home with, as well as some antibiotics. Infection is common from these types of attacks.”
“What do you mean by ‘these types of attacks?’”
“Oh, yes, sorry. The nurse told me you were having some memory troubles. It’s quite common after experiencing a traumatic event. Animal attacks are quite common in the area where you were found.”
I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t anticipated that answer. The word I was looking for was a little more taboo, and I didn’t dare say it aloud.
“Memory trouble? No, I was camping in the woods, and a man attacked me. He bit me. I remember it. I even remember what he looked like,” I said, finding my voice despite my dry throat.
His clear, hazel eyes panned over me one moment before he took a seat in the chair next to my bed. “Kimberly, you were attacked by an animal. The level of blood loss when they found you at the scene...there’s no way a human could have caused that. Not with the wound you have.”
The lump in my throat went down slowly. My life was disintegrating right before my eyes. One moment, I was doing everything to graduate college, and suddenly, a huge vampire-shaped truck wrecked my life. Was it possible I could have hallucinated the whole thing? Was I the crazy one?
“We didn’t find any drugs in your system. Do you have any pre-existing conditions? Any history of mental illness?”
“I’m sorry?” I choked.
“Is there anything else that could have caused your lapse in memory?”
His gaze pierced mine. We held a look long enough for me to recognize the emerald flecks in his eyes.
I steadied my voice, trying to quell my heavy breathing. “No, I’m just a little groggy, I think. I don’t think I’m remembering everything correctly.”
His shoulders dropped from his ears. “Oh, don’t worry about that. It’s normal for the brain to have trouble remembering the event.”
“Was there anyone else with me? I remember this older woman...She was really nice.”
“Yes! This older couple was actually there with you when the paramedics arrived. They said they had seen you on the trail earlier and came to check on you”—the soft morning sun’s beams peeked through the window and warmed up his features—“and they’ve already called to check on you, actually.”
“That’s how I survived the.. .animal attack, then? Because they found me and called for help?”
“We have already spoken to the police about this. Apparently, you were able to call 911 before losing consciousness.”
“I-I was?”
I shuffled through the events again. My attacker’s black eyes and the extended canine teeth were all that came to mind.
“Yes, you already had the paramedics on the phone when they found you.”
I wished that were true. I wanted it to be. I single-handedly fended off my attacker and found the strength to dial the number. But it wasn’t true. Everything after the attack was blurry, but everything leading up to the attack was plain as day.
My camping trip began like any other. A five-mile hike in the nature reserve, located just a few miles out of town, a tradition I had started in the fall after I found out how truly abysmal finals could be. I prepared for every contingency: bears, unexpected rain, an assault of mosquitos. No bit of my fifty-point checklist could have prepared me for that night.
Once I heard the crackling of branches, I moved toward my tent to get my bear spray from my bag. Fear took over once I saw my attacker. The look in his eyes held me in place, infusing the darkest feeling of despair into me. Once my feet were moving,I hadn’t even considered reaching for the phone in my pocket, since I thought I had left it in my bag at the campsite. I didn’t call 911.
“Right. I think I remember.”
I forced out my best smile, pulling the blankets closer to my chest. Chills ran up my spine. I was thankful to be in the safety of the hospital.
“Well, I’m glad that’s all cleared up. Your shoulder will be sore for a few weeks. We want to keep you for a few more days for observation just to monitor for any lingering symptoms of shock or infection.”
His words had me sitting at attention. The fear in my bones dissipated as quickly as it had come. “Is there any way I can be discharged sooner? I...I don’t exactly have insurance, so if I’m doing well...I’d like to go home.”
