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A slap across my sunburnt cheeks woke me up.
I was too stunned to react. I’m used to waking up slowly, and certainly not before noon. I’m a night owl who is usually only getting home when the sun is contemplating rising. It’s the nature of my job. Bartenders are basically like vampires. We play and work at night and sleep during the day. I usually need a few cups of coffee before I’m even remotely able to function, but I have to admit the slap had the same effect as about ten espressos.
The sun was only starting to wake up to the east and turning the sky from black to purple. It resembled a few of the bruises spread across my body, but at least I wasn’t dead, I thought as I cast a glance at the corpse lying a few feet away from me. I probably shouldn’t have looked that way. The sight of a crow plucking out an eye was one I could have done without. A wild dog ripped into what was left of her thigh, while the vulture pecked at her entrails.
“Get up,” Elena shouted at me, her sword already firmly gripped and ready to fight either the birds or some other would-be assailant. I wasn’t sure which.
I jumped up as fast as I could and peered into the pre-dawn gloom to see if there was another attacker, but there wasn’t one. My muscles screamed in agony. They’d gone into a spasm during the night and the sudden movement was not appreciated. Sleeping on the hard ground had not done my already aching body any favours either. I could have killed for a Swedish massage. Not that I could afford one or had ever had one, but I’d heard they’re really good. Actually anything that didn’t involve swords, sleeping on the ground, or getting killed sounded like a slice of heaven to me. But it could have been worse. I could have been the one the birds and dogs feasted on during the night. The thought turned my stomach.
“We must go,” Elena said, and started running.
Picking Arnie’s sword up off the ground, I hobbled after her. I contemplated stealing one of the Viking’s swords, but that would have involved touching what was left of her bloody corpse and interrupting the animals having their breakfast. The idea didn’t appeal.
The terrain was tricky to navigate. My toe connected with a rock that decided to plant itself right in front of me.
“Fuck,” I screeched as I tripped and skidded down the steep mountainside, tearing my once pink, but now brown, tracksuit pants. Rocks and other detritus smacked and cut into my skin on my way down.
My fall, thankfully, came to an abrupt end about two meters down. A boulder jutting out had formed a ledge and stopped my tumble, and probably saved my life. The sudden stop jolted my knee sockets. I was just lucky it wasn’t a sheer drop down. I would have been road kill, very flat road kill. My heart thundered in my chest as I pictured being pancaked at the bottom of a sheer rock face, like in that movie—Vertical Limit, where the father cuts the rope and goes splat. Or that movie with Jason Statham where he falls out of a helicopter and bounces. At least I didn’t do that.
There was a part of me that was relieved it was too dark for me to see the ground, but another part of me wanted to scream at the sun and tell it to hurry the fuck up so I could see how to climb back up to where I hoped Elena waited for me. But she was probably long gone. And somewhere along my fall I’d lost the sword.
Fuck!
“What you are doing?” I heard Elena’s voice below me.
I looked down as the first rays of dawn slithered through the cracks of the mountains around me and licked the earth. Elena stood with one hand on the hilt of her sword, and the other on her hip, judging me harshly. She was also only a few feet away from me, standing firmly on the ground. The look on her face as she glared up at me pretty much shouted: ‘Idiot.’ It was an accurate description of how I felt about myself in that moment.
“How the fuck did you get down there?” I yelled at her.
“Quiet, stupido,” Elena hissed. “You wake up the dead with all your noise. You are like dumb baby elephant.” She shook her head. “I come down trail like smart person.” She pointed to her left. Following the direction of her finger, and with the help of the early rays of sunlight filtering through, I noticed what could only be described as a narrow, steep, goat trail cutting through the mountainside. There was no way in hell I would have made it down without doing exactly what I’d just done. I couldn’t help but wonder if Elena was part mountain goat.
Peering over the rocky ledge I was perched on, I checked to see what the best way down to Elena was. A whole lot of loose gravel and rock separated us. There was only one way down and it wasn’t going to be pretty. I ended up half sliding down on my backside and the soles of my running shoes, which were also starting to look a little the worse for wear, in my attempt to try a controlled skidded decent. I just hoped I wouldn’t rip my clothes and my skin more than I already had.
The parts of my tracksuit that were still pink, instead of brown, started to show red, bloody, patches when I hit the ground at Elena’s feet.
“I can’t do this,” I cried.
“Then die.” Elena shrugged and took off again.
Early morning sunlight glinted off her sword as she ran away from me. The bitch was actually leaving me without any clue as to where I was or where I was supposed to go. I was completely lost. Unwelcome tears of frustration and pain trickled down my dirty, scratched, and sunburnt cheeks.
The sound of feet running on sand and gravel came from above. I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself. Elena was right. I had to make a choice. Run or die.
I stood, dusted myself off, literally and figuratively, and half jogged half limped in the same direction Elena had gone.