Sniper, Part 4
Anabelle breathed quickly, doing her best to quiet her tears and still her beating heart.
Alex hesitantly laid his palm on her hair, and smoothed the now-drenched strands away from her face. Though her shivers still racked her body, her sobs had subsided.
“Are you okay, now?”
Anabelle bit her lip and nodded slowly. Alex took her hands and examined the cuts-results of her sharp nails. He helped her to sit up, and stepped away momentarily, returning with a wet cloth and some bandages. He gently wiped away the red liquid, but she still winced at the sudden pain.
He paused, and then finished by wrapping her hands inn gauze.
She lifted them helplessly and muttered a “thanks” beneath her breath.
Alex nodded once, firmly, and exited the room, leaving her alone.
The days she had been there turned into weeks. Anabelle would mark the beginning of every day with her screams and punctuate their conversations by asking him why she was there. He would either ask her to do something for him, or ignore her completely until she began to wonder if he simply liked to see her in misery.
Three weeks later, Anabelle sat up, yet another dream haunting the backs of her eyelids. But this time, it was different.
The blood was drowning her. It reached up to grab her like hands as it filled her mouth and nose, stealing her ability to breathe. She screamed at the figure who stood in front of her.
“What do you want from me?!”
A knife plunged down into her again and again. It didn’t hinder her actions, when she surveyed her body, there were no cuts, but every time, she felt undying agony, and her screams increased.
She fought free of his grasp, twisting the knife from his fingers and ran. She looked back to where she had knelt; he was gone. She kept running, the liquid up to her knees, now, growing thicker with every step until she collapsed around a corner.
“Anabelle…” he said in a sick, sing-song voice, “Anabelle, come back to me, my dear.”
Her teeth dug into her lower lip, biting back the scream that threatened to give away her position.
“Anabelle…” again, “Anabelle, I promise I won’t kill you if you come out now. I might hurt you...a lot, but I won’t kill you.”
“Anabelle, you have to come back to me,” a desperate voice cried out.
Anabelle plunged the knife deep into him, with a yell as he rounded the bend next to her. He screamed. Deep, and loud.
“Anabelle...Anabelle, I need you to get me the plant I showed you. Anabelle...Anabelle!” he screamed. She pushed her hands to her ears and pulled her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth.
Her blood-red eyes cleared and she gasped breath into her lungs.
Alex sat on the floor, screaming through his teeth. “Anabelle, get me the herbs! Hey, listen to me! You’re dreaming!” he gasped, “I just...need you to get me the medicine!”
She sat down hard, the knife still attached to her hand.
She dropped the knife and brought her hands back to her face, they tore at her hair as panic overtook her body.
“Anabelle, do you hear me? It’s okay, love, just...just get me the herbs. It will all be okay if you just...just...just…” his breathing slowed and his eyes fluttered shut.
“Alex?! Alex!” she shot out of her stupor, and rushed to the cupboard, knocking over containers and bundles of herbs in search of the right one.
Black. She remembered it was black. And the leaves were small, and intricate.
Her hand wrapped around the bundle that she found and she slid to the ground in front of him onto her knees.
“What-what do I do? Alex!” she shook him. “What do I do?! You have to tell me! I don’t know how to help you!”
His eyes pried back open and shut again. Sweat began to form on his forehead and lips as he put forth effort to speak. “Chew...chew...up…” he rasped, his head falling from side to side. When Anabelle grabbed his hand, his body convulsed, shaking uncontrollably, his neck snapping every which way.
“What? Chew it up? Is that what you said? Alex!” Tears flooded to her eyes, descending down her cheeks. “Alex...I don’t want you to die.” she said to him, then again to herself, “I don’t want him to die.” she sobbed, gripping his hand until all of a sudden, the door burst open and a man shoved her away from Alex.
“What happened?!” the man shouted, searching Alex’s body, and fingering his clothing rapidly. He turned and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her with each word. “Tell me what happened!”
“His-his leg.” she stuttered through her sobs, “The knife. I-I was sleeping and-and…”
The man grabbed the black plant from her shaking fingers and held it to his nose. He scowled and cast them aside, drawing a syringe from a bag that lay at his side. He filled it with a green liquid. “Damn fool.” he muttered, and he drove it into Alex’s leg pressing the plunger hard as though the harder he pressed, the sooner effect would take.
Alex twitched twice and was still.
“Is...is he dead?” she was almost afraid to ask. She wiped her swollen eyes on her sleeve and forced herself to look at the man.
“No. He’s sleeping. But he very well could be dead within the hour if you don’d do what I tell you to do.” he looked back at her as he held his hand to the wound.
Anabelle nodded at him. “Okay.” she said quietly.
“I need you to get me a glass of water, a cloth, gauze, a needle and some strong, and the bottle of alcohol from my bag.” She retrieved the items for him and he began patting away blood with the cloth which he had dipped in the water. He poured the alcohol over Alex’s leg and Anabelle winced in pity.
The man finished washing the wound, stitched it up, and wrapped Alex’s whole thigh in gauze, finally sitting back on his feet. He turned to Anabelle.“He’s okay for now.” the man got up, groaning and gripping his back as he drank the remaining water from the glass. “Now,” he said, gulping it down, “I think you had better tell me exactly what happened.”
Thanks so much for reading!!! You'll all have to wait until next time to find out who this mysterious man is, and why he knows Alex, or why he is helping them. :)
Thanks tons!!! Have a blessed weekend! :) I know I will.