LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
As soon as Paige stepped out of the room, a clammy wetness broke out on her skin and she felt like she needed to throw up. Keeping low, Paige I settled down onto her knees.
Bracing her hands on the floor, she heaved once, twice, but nothing came out.
She couldn’t imagine what was wrong since she hadn’t eaten anything, really, except a cookie and that wasn’t very big. Certainly not enough to make her sick.
Another gut-wrenching spasm shot through her abdomen, and she heaved again. Something was wrong, she knew, but she didn’t know what.
Not able to stand, she crawled back towards Gavin’s room.
“Gavin,” she called but her voice was barely audible.
Then she remembered he was still tied up so it wouldn’t do much good calling for him anyway.
“Stupid,” she muttered, inching forward on her hands and knees. The floor swam before her eyes, fading in and out of focus as another spasm tore through her stomach.
Shaking, Paige heaved again, but nothing came out. All she wanted to do was lie down and place her face against the cold stones but knew if she did that, she would probably get even sicker.
Forcing herself forward, she crawled to the doorway and promptly fell inside the room.
Her head smacked the stone and she saw a bright flash of white and then nothing.
♦
“Lass, “he called, his voice coming out raspy, from thirst and lack of use. “What is the matter with ye?”
There was no answer or movement coming from her other than a twitching of her hand.
An unusual feeling assailed him and he vaguely remembered the like when he was locked in a dungeon. But that seemed a distant memory to him now, almost as if it didn’t happen to him at all, but to someone else.
With renewed vigor, he began working on the ropes. It took four tries, and no small amount of exertion on his part for Gavin to finally free himself from the restraints. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he made to stand but fell back against the bed.
His legs felt numb under the weight of his body.
Bracing himself on the bed, he thumped his feet on the floor until he finally got the feeling back in his legs and feet.
Although his feet and legs prickled as though hundreds of tiny needles were in them, he was able to finally stand. Walking, the few steps to reach her was an effort of sheer will on his part. By the time he made it across the room he was out of breath and weary to the bone.
Using the chair near the table, he braced himself and lowered to the floor. “Lass,” he repeated and gently tapped the side of her face.
She let out a little moan.
Somewhat relieved, he pushed himself back up to standing. This small action took a lot more effort than he would have thought.
Reaching down, he grabbed hold of her arms and struggled to lift her still form. He didn’t have the strength to lift her so instead he dragged her across the floor as close to the bed as he could get.
Jerking a fur off the bed, he laid it down and then lifted her up just enough to get her head on top.
Lowering himself down to the floor, he reached out and felt her forehead. The clammy skin under his fingers was not even hot to the touch.
“Lass,” he said, patting the side of her face gently again.
She didn’t respond.
Gavin tended to the lass as best as he could but since he still had a terrible headache and his limbs were weak from lack of use, this was no easy task.
As he stared down at her face he kept waiting for to feel some kind of emotion pour forth, but he felt nothing. Not anger, or sadness, not want, or desperation, he felt absolutely nothing, except a bone-weary tiredness. Leaning forward he placed his face in his hands and closed his eyes.
The rain continued to pelt the Earth and the wind continued to howl as it blew hither and yon and as the sound of both lulled Gavin, he relaxed and slipped off into a twilight sleep. Not quite asleep but not quite awake either.
Thoughts of strange boxes with moving pictures entered his mind as well as metal beasts that traversed the countryside at unnatural speeds. And in that strange place his mind took him while he wasn’t thinking on anything in particular, is where he saw the lass.
She looked different, happier, he supposed, and not so bedraggled as she was now. She was making him food, well, not making it, but rather setting it on the table in front of him. It was strange looking food but he did remember it tasting good.
Then she sat on his lap. He was happy she was there as well. Her body soft and warm as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He let his mind go and saw other things as well that made him question his sanity.
Things that couldn’t possibly be real and yet, he seemed totally at ease in these places as well.
Again, he saw her.
He was in a bed, unlike his own as it smelled fresh and was soft. She climbed on his back and massaged his shoulders, and then he flipped over and she laughed. It was a nice sound, that laughter of hers and warmed his soul.
Then, just as suddenly his thoughts veered off course and he was in a dark place.
The smell of rot permeated the air and he could barely take a breath. He was looking for something or someone, but it was so dark, he could not see, but he also knew he was being followed. Waiting in the shadows, he listened to the sound of footsteps drawing nearer and just when they came upon him, he lurched out, took the person by the neck and squeezed.
Fingers clawed at his hand, as he tightened his hold, drawing blood. Only when he felt the warmth of that blood trickling down his hand did he realize his dream had turned yet again.
With a jolt he opened his eyes, and what he saw made his blood run cold.
She was choking.
He was choking her.
Ripping his hand away, he stood up and stumbled backward, horrified at what he had just done.