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15
ANYA
I blinked my eyes open,dazed and confused. The world around me was eerily silent. I didn't know where I was, but it was dark. So dark, and hot. My head was pounding and I could feel something running down my face. Sweat? Or blood? Wiping at it, I still couldn't tell.
With a groan, I managed to sit up, only for a wave of dizziness to descend upon me, forcing me to lean back and take a breath. I closed my eyes and tried to recount the final moments before I blacked out. My memory was so fuzzy, none of it made sense.
Feeling around me, I identified a wall and the floor. Though I couldn't be sure that I wasn't on the ceiling. My hands prodded further, trying to see what my eyes couldn't. My fingers nudged something solid beside me. I felt around some more, tracing its outline, trying to discern what it might be. And then it moved. A single breath. Silas.
Dizziness was quickly chased away by a flood of images and sounds. The storm, the ship's engines, my own voice screaming. I was crying now, as I tried again to get up. I managed to get on my hands and knees without collapsing. With microscopic movements, I shuffled forward until I found what I was after.
My eyes were beginning to adjust to the dim light offered by the still-flashing console across the cabin. I could see Silas's body stretched out face down on the floor. He looked so broken. I wanted to rest my head on his shoulder and cry. But I knew I couldn't. I had to save him.
With what little strength I could muster, I moved around to his other side and slowly wedged my arms and legs beneath him until I could roll him onto his back. He was much too heavy for me to move, but at least if he was on his back I could keep an eye on his breathing and try to assess the damage.
At first, I didn't know what else to do but watch him, waiting for any sign that he might come back to consciousness. But he only slept, still and silent except for the rattling gasps that came and went at unpredictable intervals.
After a while, my throat was so parched from breathing the hot air, I realized that I needed to find water. Maybe I could cool myself down, and then I could go to work on him. The sweat and blood mingled on his skin. The scales of his armor had only partially receded when he lost consciousness, and he looked like a monster half-in and half-out of his Guardian form. Everywhere that soft flesh was exposed, he was burned. It was a wonder I wasn't covered in burns myself. But how? We'd gone through the same fire, and yet I was virtually unharmed, aside from the knock to my head.
Steadying myself against the wall, I managed to gain my feet on the uneven floor and hobbled from one handhold to another until I reached the front of the ship. Weak alarms clanged their final warnings and a few lights still flashed urgently, but what was left of the console had been crushed in the impact. And then my eyes went to the pilot's seat. The man who had been there had been severed nearly in half.
It was my fault.
I was the one who crashed us into the storm, and I would have to live with that for the rest of my life, however short it may be.
Leaving the controls behind me, I made my way toward the back of the ship, hoping to find something useful. The ship wasn't outfitted with bunks or any other amenities, really. It was made for one particular purpose and had been stripped down to bare bones. However, there was a large chest in one corner of the cabin strapped down and untouched.
I went to it, fighting to get the latches open so I could look inside. When I finally did, I was thrilled to find a small emergency kit, complete with a jug of water and a single blanket. Gathering what I could in my arms, I made my way back to Silas's side and collapsed to the floor. The water wouldn't last long, so I had to be careful.
I tipped it up to my mouth, letting the lukewarm liquid ease the aching in my throat and sending up thanks to whatever god had provided for me today. Then I set it down and took out what I assumed to be a first aid kit. Most of the stuff inside was recognizable, but not useful. However, I eventually came to a packet of large gauze pads and decided it was the best I could do.
Placing the gauze over the neck of the bottle, I tipped it over for a second, getting it just wet enough to wipe away some of the grime. I worked methodically from Silas's head down toward his feet. With each swipe of the gauze, I unearthed deeper wounds, and occasionally, I had to stop what I was doing to bandage a cut before he lost any more blood.
When I reached his chest, I traced the dark lines that spread outward toward his shoulders. I didn't remember him having any marks there before. I was certain he didn't have any tattoos. But even in the darkness, I could see the sharp outlines of the marks, setting off his deep green scales.
I moved down further, hesitating as I wiped away the smudges on his stomach and got to his waistline. I told myself there was no need to go there. When he woke up, he could take care of the rest on his own. But then I spotted a dark splotch on his inner thigh, the unmistakeable spread of blood coming from a major artery. If it was severed, he might bleed out in minutes. I'd already wasted so much time! I should've checked for major injuries first.
Feeling stupid, I tore away his clothes, freeing his legs and wrestling his pants down to his knees. The wound's jagged edges pulsed weirdly, and I gagged, turning away just before I vomited up the measly water I'd just drank. Snatching up another gauze pad, I pressed my hand over the wound and whimpered as it instantly soaked up the blood, leaving my hand sticky and warm. I grabbed two more, looking around for anything I could use to create a tourniquet. I hadn't had any training in this, but I'd seen it in a movie a time or two.
At last, my eyes landed on Silas's belt. With my free hand, I fought to pull his weapon free and get it out from under him. Then I looped it around his upper thigh, so close my hand rested against the soft form of his exposed cock while I worked. I didn't even have time to think about what I'd seen the night before.
I pulled the belt tight and wrapped the free end around one hand, holding it with all my strength. My other hand slapped more gauze over the cut and leaned into it. I didn't know how long I could stay like this, and I knew that no one was coming to help, but I couldn't stomach the idea of letting him bleed out right in front of me.
Sobs wracked my body, but I refused to let go. I refused to take my eyes off of Silas's face, not wanting to see the pilot's body slumped over the seat in the front. This was all I had, and I wasn't willing to give it up.
