Hard Mercy

Promise Made

It was dark when Robbie’s deep barks alerted me to the fact that at least all was well at my place. I got to the railing of the gate and Robbie jumped up putting his big paws on it as he sniffed at the unconscious woman in my arms.

“Come on get back!” I groused out as I awkwardly unlatched and pushed at the gate at the same time.

Robbie got down and I slipped through the gate and re-latched it. With Robbie padding heavily along beside me I made for the house in the late evening gloom.

Robbie got to the door first and fastening his large mouth around the handle he twisted his head and the door popped open.

“Thanks buddy.” I said, as I moved into the dark house and made my way through it by memory.

Reaching my bedroom I laid her down on the bed. In the darkness I placed my hand to her chest to confirm that she was still breathing.

Awkwardly, I brushed my hand over one soft padded mound of a breast to rest my hand in between the shallow valley in between. She was breathing, but barely.

Rising up I fiddled in the darkness and soon had a candle going, which gave me the light I needed to fire up my oil lamp. Its brighter glow lit the room up and I hung it overhead the bed on a hook. I rarely used it, but this was certainly the occasion for it.

Glancing down I went still as my eyes took in her face that had become uncovered. Her features bespoke of the mixed parentage of Asian and something else most likely European in nature. She wasn’t the typical Middle Eastern refugee that one ran across out here for sure. All that dually noted what grabbed my attention the most was how utterly beautiful she was.

Pulling my gaze away, I took in the arrow wound that was killing her. The arrow had passed cleanly through the lean muscle of the back of her calf and indeed as injuries went it wasn’t life-threatening, but the infection from it was.

Angry red lines ran out from the wound up and down her leg. At this point saving her leg was doubtful, but I was going to try.

I pulled a bag out from beneath my bed. It was a grab bag that I kept there if ever I should need to leave the house in a hurry.

I accessed the medical side of it and pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I doused her leg wound thoroughly with it as well as the arrow shaft itself.

Pulling my knife out I cut the fletching off of the back of the arrow. That done, I stood up and fetched a hack saw I had in the other room.

Sweat rolling down my face I gripped a hold of the carbon arrow shaft and began sawing down at it from the backend in an attempt to split it into two pieces. Despite my hard stabilizing grip on the arrow shaft her leg was moving and glancing worriedly I checked to see if the pain from the motion had jarred her awake.

It hadn’t and the fact that it hadn’t drove me to work harder, as I felt sure she didn’t have long. I pulled the hacksaw blade out and sawed down from the top briefly until a half section of the hollow shaft fell away with a clink to the floor.

I now had a channel about four inches long cut into the arrow. Going to the floor nearby I lifted out a board and reaching down my fingers claimed ahold of a shotgun shell.

Going to the bed, I used the hacksaw to cut away the wad and the buckshot until all I had left was the powder charge. Barely breathing as I focused tightly on my hand’s action I sprinkled the black powder contents of the shell up-and-down the cut in groove in the arrow until it was full.

Reaching to the floor I picked up the lit candle sitting there. I gripped a hold of the barbed side of the arrow firmly and then for a moment paused.

Glancing up at her I said, “I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt asleep or not.”

Gritting my teeth I lowered the candle’s flame to the powder and it flashed brightly even as I pulled the arrow clean on through her leg. The smell of burnt flesh had me wanting to throw up, but it was her scream of pain that unnerved me the most.

Throwing the arrow aside, I hiked up further along the bed and did my best to comfort the suddenly very conscious patient I had just burnt with gunpowder from the inside out.

“Shhhhh!” I soothed, as I fought to hold her hands down and with her eyes blinking madly I watched her slip back under. Fully subdued in unconsciousness again I let her hands go and turned back to her leg. It was bleeding openly in evidence that I hadn’t cauterized the wound fully, which really hadn’t been my intention anyway.

My goal had been to take out the heart of the infection and hopefully that at least had been done. Time would tell, though.

I let the wound bleed out some more before sprinkling an open bag of quick clot to both sides of her leg before I then wrapped it heavily with two bandages and a roll of gauze. Her breathing was elevated and thready sounding.

Reaching into the bag on the floor once more I pulled out a syringe. It was a makeshift world we lived in now and this certainly was a make do remedy. It was a veterinarian cow antibiotic injection shot.

Rolling her sleeve up I sterilized an area of her arm and injected the needle into her smooth flesh. I knew full well that I could be killing her for good, if she was allergic to penicillin, as many people were these days.

Coming from a third world nation most likely, though it was doubtful that she was allergic to it, at least that’s what I told myself. Whether the shot would do her any good was an even bigger question.

Pulling the spent syringe out I stared at her for a moment. The allure of her uncovered face sung out to me and now more than ever I really wished that she wouldn’t die.

Closing my eyes, I stretched out my hand and laid it over her leg near her wound and said, “Please God! Help her live. I don’t know why, but I want her to live. I ask this in Jesus’s Name, even so let it be.”

The prayer said I went about putting stuff away and then I covered her up with a blanket. That done, I went and got a drink of water and washed myself up.

Coming back to the room, I glanced at Robbie sprawled out on the floor beside the bed. Glancing at her I asked, “Do you think she’ll make it?”

His doleful expression wasn’t hopeful and truly, that was how I felt too. I dimmed the lantern and taking one of the pillows off the bed I lay down beside Robbie, but sleep was far from me as I listened to the soft rasp of her labored breathing.

Closing my eyes I prayed some more. It was important that she live.

The why of that was something I didn’t really want to investigate too far at the moment. She just needed to live.

Things would be better if she lived. Robbie seemed to think so too.

~~~~~~~

Something was shaking. The bed was shaking!

Blinking away sleep, I rose up off the floor to the sight of her convulsing upon the bed violently. For a moment I panicked about what to do before past training took over.

With convulsions there was little to be done, but there was one needful thing at least that should be done. I went around to the head of the bed and forcefully turned her head to the side, mindful to keep my fingers far away from her mouth.

She was foaming at the mouth and then she was vomiting. My own stomach, dry heaved at the smell and the sound of her vomiting, but I steeled myself against being too affected.

It was hard not to be affected, though at the sight of her body flailing about upon the bed. It was actually dangerous to be near a person in convulsions as they possessed greater strength than typical and she was no exception to this.

I continued to keep my fingers away from her mouth and keep her head to the side so she wouldn’t choke on vomit, until at last her body came to a rest. All was not good though. She was literally burning up!

My hands came away from her head as if singed and I made the decision that her fever needed to be brought down. Normally not a good idea, as it was better to let a fever run its course, but her fever was simply too high.

I made a quick exit from the room as the morning sun rose up outside brightly. Robbie looked on worriedly as I came back into the room with a basin of water and a rag.

I set the basin of water down and spared her a brief glance of apprehension before taking out my knife and cutting her clothes off of her until she lay there devoid of all covering. Sweating profusely, I turned away and soaked a sheet in the basin of water before then dragging it across her naked form.

Her body turned the sheet hot and I took it off and re-soaked it and applied it again. I repeated the process several more times until something inside me said, “Enough.” I pulled the wet sheet off her.

The bed was a mess and I hated to leave her in such a way, but to change the situation was to have to touch her. It couldn’t be helped.

I laid a blanket on the floor and then turned to her. Carefully, I slid my arm under the back of her thighs and my other hand beneath her upper back.

She was a slight little thing and I hardly had to exert myself at all to lift her up and transfer her to the floor. On inspiration I laid her onto her belly.

Closing my eyes, I forced myself to look away from the view of her perfectly shaped little rounded bottom and back to the soiled bed. I worked quickly and had it stripped and a new sheet on it within minutes.

Turning to her I got a rag and began to wash her back off. Muttering under my breath I said, “God, I sure hope You know what You’re doing, because I sure don’t!” Feeling intense guilt because of the visceralness of my desire for this poor sick woman I forced myself to continue washing her off as impersonally as I could.

Finishing, I dried her and once more lifted her to lay her back on the bed front side up. Continually grinding my teeth I completed the task of cleaning her up.

It had been a very long time since I had touched a woman and to do now in such an impartial manner was literally torture. She was beautiful and I wanted her.

Breathing evenly she now rested peacefully upon the bed looking much better in color than she had earlier. She was going to live.

I covered her up with another sheet all the way to her chin. Her black hair lay strewn across the pillow beneath her head even as her exotically proportioned body was now hidden from view.

For the moment she was stable and backing away from her I took the opportunity presented and left the closed off atmosphere of the room. Breathing deeply I stepped outside into the morning sunshine.

The day was bright, but I felt like I deserved a lightning bolt. My mind wouldn’t stop!

Over and over my brain relived all that my eyes had taken in and that my hands had actually touched. To describe the condition of my manhood at the moment would be to say painful.

My pants simply weren’t roomy enough to adequately fit how engorged I was with the desire for what I had seen and touched.

“God forgive me!” I groaned out, as I dug my hands into my eyeball sockets in an effort to erase a memory that was still replaying and imaginatively creating more at the same time. The emotions of all that I wanted to do with her were so real that it scared me and whispering out loud, I said, “God help me!”

“I am.” Came an unexpected response in the midst of my angst over struggling to be a moral minded person versus the animalistic nature that had me aching to go back inside and use the girl for my own pleasure.

Then once more I felt the same voice that I clearly attributed to my Creator say, “Enjoy her, son.”

“What?” I breathed out in response, but no answer came.

“Enjoy her?” Still no response.

“She’s a Muslim!” I exclaimed, but still no response came.

I couldn’t marry a Muslim. Somehow I must be deceived in this and yet just why did I want her to live so much, if there wasn’t something I was wanting to occur between the two of us?

I didn’t know. Out of the blue the planting beds came to mind along with their need for water.

I straightened away from the post and made to walk, but my shaft was a living agony within my pants. Breathing out resignedly I opened my pants and slid the zipper down.

Pushing my underpants down I bared my shaft to the morning sunlight. It really didn’t take anything, but the lightest of touches and my shaft was instantly spasming as a sharp orgasm swept through me.

Closing my eyes, I let it sweep through me as jet after jet of semen shot out to soak the parched ground. Finally done, I closed my pants back up shakily and did my best to recover my composure from what undoubtedly had been the best and yet the oddest orgasm of my life.

As good as it had felt my sharpest regret was that it hadn’t occurred while I had been buried deep inside of the object of my fantasies that lay asleep in the house behind me. I started to go, but looking down at the seed soaked ground I heard the voice of my Creator once more say with an emphasis I couldn’t deny, “The next time will be inside of her.”

I closed my eyes for a moment completely humbled as what felt like a promise washed over me and which gave me some measure of peace that didn’t make any sense.

“Why God?” I whispered out.

“It’s not good for you to be alone. Now water your plants and when you return, she will be awake.”

Obediently I didn’t question my Maker anymore, but I continued on to the garden patches. It was over two hours later when I stepped back within the confines of the house after having watered all of the plants successfully.

Quietly I made my way to the bedroom which wasn’t very quiet with my boots still on as they were. I peered in and to my surprise, I beheld Robbie sitting beside the bed with the most sublime of expressions on his face as a slim fingered hand massaged behind his ears repetitively. The bum!

My eyes followed the hand up the arm to the white sheet that it disappeared under. From there my eyes met her engaging almond eyed gaze and I stood transfixed for a moment not knowing what to do.

Her gaze was many things: curious, watchful, unsure, but most notably of all lacking in fear. I saw no fear in her eyes for me and that was good.

Why was that good? Shaking my head, I broke the trance she had me under and asked almost to myself, “I bet you’re thirsty.”

She did nothing, but stare inquisitively at me and with a bit of dread to my voice I said, “You don’t speak English do you.”

To this she nodded her head, no. Sighing, I rubbed at my forehead and left the room to get her some water.

Her not knowing English was going to certainly complicate things. I got her water and reentering the bedroom I knelt down and held it steady for her as she weakly rose up to sip from the cup.

All the while as she drank one leanly muscled arm held the sheet tightly up around her neck and not for a moment did her eyes leave mine. What did she see I wondered?

Breathing heavily, she lay back down. Glancing down I saw that the cup was empty.

This woman had some uncanny way of causing me to lose focus. I wasn’t too sure I liked that about her.

She spoke in an Asian dialect and glancing at her I saw her motion to the glass. She wanted more.

“Uhhh no, Honey. It’s not good to get too much water too soon.” I said, rubbing at my own stomach in an attempt to communicate that.

Amazingly, she nodded as if she understood. Raising a hand slowly I watched her eyes track its progress until I laid it over the top of her forehead.

It was still hot, but nothing like before. I looked down at her leg and moving down that way along the bed, I started to raise the sheet slowly.

I glanced up at her to see how she was reacting, but her expression remained enigmatically hard to read. Bringing my eyes back to her leg I took in the bandaged area.

The bandage still looked good. I’d change it tonight.

Running my finger along her calf further up past the wound I looked, but I couldn’t find the red lines that had been there yesterday. That was very good to see, but I didn’t want to rejoice too soon.

I pulled the sheet back down over her leg. I glanced up as she said something softly in her own language.

What she’d said was Greek to me, but somehow I knew that she was thanking me for what I had done to save her life.

“You’re welcome.” I said, just as softly as she had spoken.

Getting the glass I got up and left the room. I went about making some chicken broth from a few of the remaining seasoning packets I had and when it had cooled enough, I poured a glass full of it and went back into the bedroom.

She’d been asleep, but her eyes opened and there for just a moment I saw fear and her body gave a slight start before she recognized me. I’d stopped when I saw her fear, but now I continued on to her.

With eagerness for what I held she hiked up in the bed and I gave her the glass to hold for herself. She took it and shakily began to sip the warm broth.

Not meaning to, but it being unavoidable to do so my eyes gazed down the graceful plane of her back that lay nakedly exposed to me. Feeling myself react to the sight of her bare skin I turned my eyes away to gaze at the floor.

Reaching across to a nearby table I picked up the spent syringe I had injected into her. Her eyes came to me and I gestured to her arm.

Absently one of her fingers felt over the spot I had injected her at and I said, “I need to get more of this, if possible.” I waved the used syringe and pointed to it and then I pointed to the clock on the wall and held up as many fingers as I thought it would take me to get to town and back. I made enough gestures to illustrate fully that I would be leaving soon.

Her eyes lit up with alarm and she shook her head no in a sharp gesture that sent her coal black silk like hair cascading about her bare shoulders. The plea in her eyes for me not to go was sincere enough to read even though no words had been spoken.

She didn’t want me to go. My stomach feeling funny within me, I softly insisted, “I’ve got to. You need some more help to get through this safely.”

To my shock, then I saw a big tear fall out of the corner of one of her almond shaped eyes and the sight of it slew me. I had to go though.

It was for her best and to that end, I pointed to Robbie and gestured to say that he would stay. Then not believing such a thing of myself, I went to the false floorboard and removed it and came back to her with a small 40 caliber revolver.

I set the pistol down on the bed beside her and she raised shocked eyes from it to me.

“I’ll be back. I promise.” With that said I literally tore myself from the desire to stay in the room and keep having her watch me like she was right now.

In a way I’d never felt so needed in my life and with that newfound desire to receive more of the same I took off for town at a pace eating run