Marked

When his unorthodox training was over, Charles decided to release Hector from the shackle binding his ankle.

“Never again,” Hector growled as he stood and shoved Charles in the chest.

“Oh, hate me all you want oh noble knight. Now you know what it’s like to fight a real poacher. Ya really think them poachers will give a hoot that they’re women? You think theys will fight fair?”

Charles glowered at them then waddled away, back to his cabin, whistling. “Wash up before dinner, you hooligans,” he said, and then he was gone.

Juan strode up to Hector, rubbing the back of his head. “Hector, it’s not much different than how dad would have us train with one another. He’s fucking nuts but he has a point.”

Simone came up to Rachel, a deep crease on her forehead. “I think I hate him.”

“Yeah, but we can’t leave until he agrees to mark us,” Juan grumbled.

“Oh, honey,” Simeone cried. “You’re bleeding!”

“What?” Rachel glanced down at the place Simone was staring at--her blood-soaked plaid shirt.

She reached up to touch her nose, which felt warm, and sticky and her fingers came back bloody.

Oh.

She wasn’t a big fan of blood.

The forest did a little twirl. With the adrenaline leaving her body, Rachel began to feel the extent of her injuries. Her bruised nose, the ache in her stomach, her sore ribs.

“Juan, grab her,” Hector ordered.

Juan rushed over to Rachel just as her legs became unsteady and she caught herself against his arm.

“Can I?” Juan asked. Clearly, he’d learned his lesson to always ask for consent before touching her. Rachel nodded her head and Juan swung her into his arms.

She was grateful to be off her feet as he carried her back toward the cabin. Warm, yellow light spilled from the downstairs windows. The forest was quiet, the night cool, nipping at her skin.

The throb in her head intensified.

Simone followed, hobbling along to catch up to Juan’s longer-legged stride. “Oh, I’m going to choke him in his sleep for this. I’m going to shove his tea kettle so far up his bony--”

“Simone,” Rachel sighed. “It’s ok. I think--I think he meant well. In his own crazy, demented way.”

Simone made a face as Juan swung the door open with his foot. Charles had retreated to his bedroom upstairs, but on the table, he’d left each of them a plate of grilled rabbit with potatoes.

Hector came in a few moments later. He carried a bucket of water and a handful of plants.

He went to Charles’s kitchen, equipped with a tiny butane stove and threw water and the buds of the plant into a pot. Rachel could hear him clattering around in the kitchen.

Juan and Simone set up a mountain of pillows for Rachel while they rummaged through the cabin for clean towels and bandages.

“I’m sorry I left you all alone to fight him,” Simone said, kneeling in front of Rachel and gripping her hand.

Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but just then, Hector appeared from the kitchen, holding a wooden cup filled with the boiled mixture.

Rachel grimaced.

There was a cut on her lip and her head ached where Charles had kicked her.

“It’s cannabis tea. I saw it the other day, growing in Charles's garden. It will relieve your pain, but it may also make you feel high. It’s what we were smoking at the compound that one night, do you remember?”

Rachel glanced at each of her friends.

“I-uh,” She started. “I don’t like anything that makes me feel out of control.”

“We’ll be right here. We’ll take care of you.” Hector said, his voice gentle.

“Yeah, if you start tripping out, we’ll help you through it.” Juan smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

“You don’t have to take it,” Hector said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just...didn’t want to see you in pain.”

“You should take it,” Simone encouraged. “You’ve never been good with pain, Ray. I can tell you’re trying to be tough but--”

“Fine, fine,” Rachel said, through the pounding in her head. “I’ll take it.

“Only a few sips, though. It’s strong.” Hector held the wooden mug up to her lips. The liquid was bitter and left a sour, woodsy taste in her mouth.

It didn’t hit her right away. But after a while, here head started spinning. She laid down on her side against Simone’s legs. Her body felt like it was floating, and a deep calm had settled over her.

She felt no pain.

“Hector told us what happened,” Simone said as she combed through Rachel’s hair with her fingers. She smelled like vanilla and her touch was relaxing.

“You know, after the most attractive half of us got knocked out.” Juan went on.

“You were so brave, honey. I think you even knocked out one of Charles’s remaining teeth.”

“You fought well,” Hector said. He sat near Simone on the couch. Rachel’s legs feet were across his lap, or at least, she thought so.

One of his warm hands rested against her ankle...or at least, she thought so. Reality seemed to move slowly. She found herself having the same thought twice.

Hector’s thumb stroked the inner crease of one ankle...or at least, she thought so.

What had she just been thinking?

Eventually, it became too much, and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

It was only them, and Charles, and the forest.

And their anxiety grew but so did their love for each other.

And their worry for their missing family members intensified.

And each sunset stole away another sliver of hope.