My Last Breath

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

    The pain came in waves, crashing into her like the water from the river. Dragging her down deeper and deeper into the darkness, stealing her breath and making sure she would never see the light of day again. What she wasn’t expecting was the warm heaviness of something wrapped around her and the smell of something cooking.

    “M…mum…?” She groaned.

    As she tried opening her eyes, Anne was only able to see out of one. She was face to face with a wooden roof, with the sound of rain and crackling of a fire. When she tried turning her head, everything swam with dizziness, and her head splintered with another headache. She moaned. When she tried to reach up with her right arm, she noticed it was stuck in her chest.

    Panic wrapped its hands around her chest and made it even more difficult for her to breathe. She could hear the roaring wind and the downpour. How long have I been out? Is mom okay? Am I okay? She tried calming her racing mind. I’m obviously not dead, but how hurt am I?

    As she tried sitting up, searing pain shot through her lower stomach. She breathed through it till she was sitting completely erect. A comforter had been thrown over her body made of animal fur, and her arm was wrapped in a tight cast. Her stomach was covered in bandages, and she was almost completely naked except for her bra and panties.

    The room she was in was cabin-like. It had two large windows looking down to a raging river. In between the two was a brick fireplace with a raging fire, crackling and giving off beautiful warmth. There were two chairs with a single table sitting in the center of them, a bearskin rug, and a few other odds and ins like a small dresser and bookshelf.

    There was a door to the left of the first window, and one to the right of the second. Okay, I’m in a bedroom…think calmly Anne…think calmly…if whoever saved you was going to kill you they would’ve by now. She closed her eye and let herself take as deep of a breath as she could manage.

    Everything hurt, her entire body felt like one big bruise.

    When she opened her eye again, she tried getting to her feet. She grabbed onto the small nightstand that was next to the bed, as another wave of dizziness crashed into her. Nausea was right there waiting for her. She closed her eyes and breathed through it. After a minute she was able to control the urge to throw up. Okay…okay…find out where you are.

    On top of the nightstand were a half-drunk glass of water, pill bottles, and a pair of surgical gloves. She reached to the first drawer and pulled it open. Nothing but a diary…when she grabbed it with her only working arm and flipped it open.

    It was blank.

    She put it back and closed the drawer.

    Stumbling forward Anne used the wall as leverage, everything was made from wood. From the floor to the roof. She circled the room till she got to the window, the hurricane had come in strong, and she could already see several trees that had been uprooted without any issues.

    It took her a minute to realize that all the lights in the room were off, and the only light she was given was the fireplace. Did the storm knock it out? A sudden wave of fatigue crashed into her, and she leaned heavily against the cool glass. Her body broke out into a cold sweat and she started to breathe heavier.

    “You’re not supposed to be up.” A gruff, yet matter-of-fact voice floated from the door she had just walked by.

    The sound had nearly caused her to jump out of her skin. When she turned around to the voice, she saw a redheaded male, whose face was so badly scarred she couldn’t stop staring. But his eyes, his eyes were such an artic blue that they nearly looked silver.

    The hands that held a white bowl, were covered in scars as well. She looked from his hands to his face then back to his hands again, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them, “Where am I?” they came out breathy and brittle as if she was near tears.

    The man came forward and placed the bowl of steaming food on the nightstand next to the bed. “You’re in my cabin, deep in Hangman mountain. I found you face-first in my river, bleeding and crushed. Your car is about seven miles upstream.” He turned back to her, “You need to get back into bed. You not only lost a lot of blood, but you fractured your eye socket, broke your arm and I had to give you several stitches.” His tone never changed, it stayed matter-of-fact and had an edge to it that reminded her of steel.

    Anne looked from him to the bed, it too was made of wood and had animal fur as the comforter that she so graciously knocked on the floor. The man knelt over and picked it up, making the bed so she could easily get back into it. She didn’t want to move, she was terrified. She didn’t know who this man was, or what he wanted with her. Sure he saved her life but…

    The man let out a slow, soft sigh, “I’m not going to harm you, miss. If that was the case I would’ve left you out there to drown. But, that goes against my moral code. My name is Doctor Clive Harvinston, I was only able to do so much with what I have here. Please, come back to bed and rest. I made some stew.”

    She shook her head, “No. I’m not moving. How do I know you didn’t put poison—”

    “In your food?” He reached down and took the spoon, taking a large bite himself chewing and swallowing before answering her. “Its bear, a little gamey, but you’ll live. Now come.” He nodded to the bed once more.

    Anne stood there in silence, pondering before that wave of fatigue crashed into her again. The world tilted as she became dizzy all over again. “I…” Her mouth felt full of cotton as her eye rolled back.

    Strong arms caught her as she was about to fall. She could smell his aftershave, and hear him sigh. “I told you, you needed to rest.” He carried her back to the bed, he easily laid her down.

    “How long have I been out?” She asked as he covered her back up with the fur blanket.

    “A few days.”

    Her eye went to the window, “And the storm still hasn’t moved on?”

    He pulled the small table that was in between the two chairs up to the bed and sat down. He grabbed the white bowl and started to feed her. “No, another hurricane came right up after Lorelie. Mardel, this one is supposed to be worse…” He sighed, watching her eat. Her eye never left his face, uncertainty crawled up her spine. “Don’t worry, the river won’t flood up this far. My cabin is built on stilts to prevent that. We will be alright up here till the storm passes.” He fed her another spoonful.

    She chewed and swallowed as quick as she could, “How did you find me?” Clive gave her a small look before giving her another spoonful. Anne didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him, and the last thing she wanted was to be killed by some wild man living in the mountains.

    He placed the spoon back in the bowl, “I was out getting wood. The electricity was cut out about three days ago, but everything around here also runs on coal. I have a wood stove that helps me cook, and the boiler down in the basement that thankfully hasn’t flooded out yet. The upper floors are hoisted by stilts, but the basement is still a basement,” He stirred the stew.

    Anne couldn’t stop the shiver running through her body, “I have to get to my mom. She lives on the outskirts of Cinna Bay. She has a lake behind her house that floods really bad. She has dementia—”

    Clive made a face, the first bit of emotion she had seen, “I’m sorry but it's too dangerous out there right now. If I let you go, it’ll be a death sentence. My moral compass wouldn’t allow it. Besides, you were nearly crushed to death by your car—”

    Anne sat up ignoring the searing pain in her body, “But do you have a car? How else did you come and go? Please I have to make sure my mom is alright. Do you at least have a cellphone?” Hope raised in her eyes, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths.

    “I…” He sighed. It was the first time Anne took in what he was wearing. It was a little old-fashioned, a white undershirt with a black vest over top of it and a black tie. He wore older slacks that she hadn’t seen in a long time. He reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out her cellphone. “I found this on the outskirts of the river, is it yours?”

    She ignored the question, but at seeing her silver iPhone she took it from him. Her heart running faster in her chest than before. Her body flushed with fatigue but she tapped the screen. It was heavily cracked, but it came to life. “Yes!” a tantalizing thrill went through her.

    She clicked her contacts and scrolled down to her mothers' number, as soon as she touched it, the phone started to dial. When she placed it to her ear, and waited, all she was left with was a burst of static. The sound made her wince. “What the hell…?” Anne pulled the phone away from her face and saw that the bars went from full, to none. She still had a good amount of battery left. When she tried calling her mother again, she got a dial tone.

    Clive was watching her with curious eyes, “What are you trying to do?”

    “Call my mom to let her know I’m alive…” She tried one last time, receiving only the same burst of static. “What the hell…”

    Clive grabbed the bowl and started to spoon-feed her again, as her hand dropped to her legs. “I don’t get good reception out here. There is a payphone out at the end of the drive. But you’re still in no condition to walk. You’re lucky you didn’t need surgery.” He kept feeding her till the bowl was gone. He got to his feet and was heading to the door. “I’ll be back shortly with some medication.”

    Her heart stuttered, “What kind of medication?”

    “Antibiotics, painkillers. Are you allergic to anything?” He had his hand on the handle.

    She searched through her brain trying to remember, “Penicillin.”

    Clive nodded, “Stay here I’ll be back in a few.” Anne watched him open the door and disappear in the dark.

    She laid back against the headboard of the bed and stared at the phone on her lap. I have to get to that payphone. The stew Anne had eaten gave her enough energy to feel like she could do this. She swung her feet off the bed and could feel dizziness wrap its hands around her head. Nausea crept up her throat and she steadied herself with her one good arm.

    She pushed herself up, her feet touching the warm floor again. Moms going to be worried sick about me. She probably sent out a search team by now. Holding onto the dresser next to her, Anne kept walking to the door Clive went out of. Her legs kept trembling and she felt sick to her stomach. Sweat lined her upper lip and ran down her body.

    Anne reached the door and pulled down on the handle. It opened quietly and she was greeted with the smell of burning wood, and the warm stew in the air. She continued to lean against the wall. The sudden switch from the ambient light from the bedroom to the darkness of the hall caught her by surprise. She blinked her eye trying to get herself accustomed to the deep shadows.

    The silence was so heavy in the home that she could hear the howling wind wrapping around the cabin, the sound of branches crashing against the roof. She shivered but pressed on, leaving the comfort of the light into the unknown of the darkness. The soft light from the bedroom only reached so far, there was one other door down the hall, it was closed and there was no light coming from underneath it.

    She used her fingers to guide her, at the end of the hall her fingers found the banister to the stairs. Taking care not to fall, she slowly descended using the tips of her toes to feel for the next stair. At the end of the staircase, she saw the front door. To her left was another hall that was shrouded in darkness.

    Her eye couldn’t move.

    In the deep darkness, she watched a shadow, which was much darker than the abyss around it, shift. A chill ran through her spine as she watched it shift and move again. She kept feeling for the front door as her eye never left the shaft of night.

    A low, deep rumble came from the end of the hall. Goosebumps rose against her flesh, the hair on the back of her neck stood right up. The shadow moved again, coming closer to her. “Clive?” a hoarse whisper came from her lips.

    The shadow stilled, disappearing into the void.

    Her heart came to a stop. Leave! Leave now! As she turned to the front door, she saw a coat hanging up right next to it. It was much larger than she, she grabbed it with her non-injured arm and wrapped it around herself. The moment she opened the front door, it was nearly ripped out of her hand.

    The wind was so strong, it almost pulled her right out of the cabin. The lightning was so bright it blinded her, and the thunder was loud enough to make her ears ring. In the gale-force winds, she watched the trees crash together, the sheer chaos took her breath away.

    The long walkway to the cabin was flooded over with water so deep she couldn’t see the bottom of it. The flood was so wide it nearly touched the bottom stair of the cabin. She didn’t know if it was day, or night because of how dark the clouds were. The cabin was surrounded by trees and the driveway that led up to the main road was covered.

    She watched one of the trees sway and crash so hard into another, she could hear it become uprooted. The large oak started to tilt, the very sound of roots being ripped up from the wet soil made her knees weak. She watched in slow motion of the tree falling—

    “What are you doing?!” Arms wrapped around her, pulling her back from the door. The tree came down, shuddering the ground underneath their feet. The branches crashing against the stairs, knocking them from the porch. Clive slammed the door shut, as the sound of the stairs collapsing disappeared.

    Anne stared at the door, taking in deep shuddering breaths, unable to comprehend the disaster she just saw. It nearly took her mind off the shadow in the hall.

    Nearly.

    Clive held her close, “I told you to stay in bed. You’re not well enough to be up and walking around.” He grunted before picking her up once again. “If you went out there you would’ve certainly caught your death.” He carried her up the stairs easily, as if the darkness hindered him none.

    “But—”

    “There’s no buts miss. This storm isn’t over, and it’s not going to be for quite some time.”

    She watched the hall pass her by, Clive brought her back into the bedroom and placed her down on the bed. There were small beads of sweat on his scarred brow, but he ignored them to pull out two pills. “One is clindamycin, and the other is Tylenol. I don’t want to give you something stronger just in case you have a reaction to it.” He placed the two pills in the palm of her hand and helped her get a drink of water.

    She took them easily, Anne kept avoiding his gaze.

    He sat down on the small table again and leaned forward, his hands in between his legs. “I told you, this storm isn’t a nice one. It’ll kill you. It’s worse than Lorelie was.”

    Embarrassed, she tried searching for words. “I…I’m sorry, I just—”

    “You’re worried about your mother, I know. I’m sure she got the help she needed.” He got up, taking the table with him.

    “Where are you going?” The sudden desperation in her voice made her wince. She didn’t want to be alone, sure, but she didn’t want him near her. The shadow in the hallway downstairs freaked her out more than the hurricane.

    He gave her a quick glance before grabbing the more comfortable chair and pulled it up next to the bed. “I’ll stay here till you fall asleep. Would that make you feel better?” He sat down and crossed his legs. He had taken a book from the bookcase off to the right. “I understand your fear, but unfortunately we're both stuck here till this blows over.” He cracked the leather-bound book open.

    She couldn’t stop herself, “Is there someone else here?”

    He didn’t look away from his book, he just turned the page. “No.”

    “Are you sure?”

    Clive continued to read, “I’m sure.”

    She played with the fur comforter, “But I—”

    “You saw no one. You’re terrified and you’re in a new place. With the weather like it is outside your mind more than likely played a trick on you.” He relaxed his tone, when he saw the real horror on her face and how pale she was. He sighed as he closed the book, “You never told me your name.”

    Anne swallowed, holding onto the fur comforter. “Anne-Marie…but I just go by Anne.”

    There was a slight twinkle in his eye, “Anne-Marie…that’s very pretty.” He relaxed a little bit and opened up his book again.

    “What are you reading?” She wondered.

    His eyes changed for a second, “A collection of tales by Elizabeth Gaskell. Do you like to read?”

    She could see the interest climbing, and she shrugged. “Yeah. I love reading. I write for the Maypole paper, but my dream job is to be an author.” Her eyes became sad, “I lost my typewriter in the wreck…I never left home without it.”

    He uncrossed his leg, she had gotten his full attention now. “What kind of typewriter was it?”

    “A Remington Model 5. It was my moms, she gave it to me when I started college.” Anne let out a long yawn, her eyes were growing heavy. Fatigue settling deep in her bones.

    Clive closed his eyes and gave it some thought, “I may have one in my basement somewhere. Not that model or type, but I might have one. Once you’re feeling better we can talk about it more. For right now, rest.”

    Anne yawned as she sunk deeper into the feather pillow, in the corner of her mind she couldn’t stop watching that tree come down, and the shadow in the hall.