*
When I wake up, I’m lying in a comfortable bed. Soft white sheets surround me. The bed frame is wrought iron, adorned with broad sweeping curves. A patchwork quilt covers me. My head is still foggy, but I’m feeling far better than I did before.
Is this a dream? The smell of bacon wafts in the air. I don’t smell in my dreams, so I must be awake. This must be real.
Looking around, I’m in a bedroom. Lime-green plaster walls contrast against white wood trim. The floor is hardwood, but the bed sits on an old, worn rug. The sun streaks in through the windows, which are covered with sheer white curtains.
I kick off the quilt and sheets covering me. I’m dressed in pajamas that are not my own. Someone has cleaned me up. My arms are clean, and I smell fresh, like soap.
The wound on my leg is much better. Red streaks are no longer visible, and the swelling is down. The scab looks clean.
But there is no sign of Aiden. The memory of seeing him lying on the floor sends a wave of panic through me. What if the man killed Aiden, but he chose to save me? Maybe he plans to make me a slave. Maybe Aiden was too much to handle, and the man only needed one of us.
A noise comes from outside the bedroom door. As I move to get out of bed, every motion creates a creaking noise from the metal box spring beneath me. Gently, I step off the bed and tiptoe to the door. An old brass doorknob is cold to the touch. I turn it until there’s a quiet click of the door unlatching.
Through a small crack in the door is the kitchen of an old farmhouse. Butcher-block countertops rest on painted white cabinets. There’s a stove and a refrigerator that looks fifty years old.
The big man I saw in the barn is at the countertop with his back turned toward me. He’s wearing those same overalls, and a long gray ponytail goes well past his shoulders. He’s hovering over the stove. I’m hit with another waft of bacon, and my stomach gurgles. I’m ravenous.
He’s probably given me more of whatever was in that needle earlier to keep me sedated. Maybe it wore off quicker than he expected. This may be my only chance to escape before he realizes I’ve regained consciousness. I have to take advantage of his mistake.
I creak the door open and tiptoe into the room. A cast iron pan rests on the kitchen table. I grab it and raise it over my head, sneaking up behind him. A quick whack on the head should be enough to give me a head start.
“Zach! What are you doing?” A familiar voice calls out from my right. I spin around as Aiden jumps up from a chair he was sitting in.
He’s okay.
Aiden is okay.
The man in overalls turns, sees me, and snatches the cast iron pan out of my hand.
“I’ll takethat.” His voice is gentle and singsongy. Not what I was expecting from this big, lumbering man. He sets the pan down on the counter, away from my reach.
In the meantime, Aiden crosses the room and wraps me up in a big hug. I hug him back. The swing of emotions in such a short time makes me lightheaded.
“I don’t understand. What’s happening?” With arms still around him, I pull away to look into Aiden’s face. He’s got a broad grin, and his eyes are bright.
“Everything is okay, Zach. This is Curtis. He saved your life.” He gestures to the big man, who also has a grin on his face. Curtis makes a friendly wave. His eyes look a little damp.
“But I thought— I mean I was bound up— You were on the floor—” I trail off. My head is fuzzy, and my legs are getting a little weak.
Aiden keeps me from falling. “Whoa! Let’s get you seated.”
He guides me into a nearby chair. He drags another one up next to me and sits down.
“First, let’s get some food into you. Your body is weak. I’ll answer all your questions over breakfast.” Aiden’s kind eyes gaze into mine. I’m confused, but seeing him calms me. I trust him and know I’ll always be safe with him. I care so much for Aiden.
In no time, Curtis sets a plate of food in front of me. Crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and toast with jam. I shovel food into my mouth like I haven’t eaten in forever.
“Slow down, Zach,” Curtis says in a soft tone. “You’ll make yourself sick.” He sets a plate down in front of Aiden and one for himself.
Between bites of food, Aiden starts his story. “Okay, from the beginning. We were hiking along in the rain, and you weren’t looking so great. Then you collapsed.”
“I have a fuzzy recollection of that.”
“Well, I picked you up and started down the trail. I knew I had to get you someplace dry. By complete chance, I found this place. It was the smoke from the fireplace.”
Curtis cuts in, smiling, “I hadn’t had a fire for weeks. Been too warm. Luckily, it was a chilly day, or you guys might not have found me.”
