(Day 2): Alive?

I wipe my face with my hands again, trying to remove the remaining trails of blood. All I succeed in doing is smearing the warm red substance around on my skin. 'That is why you should never run with scissors. Or, in this case, knives.' I nod with satisfaction, and finally turn back to the boy who I saved. He is lying unconscious on the floor. 'After everything I just went through to save you, you better not die on me.'

"Snap!" The sound of a someone stepping on a branch echoes out to me. My face drains of colour as I whip around. The other boy is standing a few centimetres away from me, his knife raised above his head - ready to deliver a killing blow. 'OH SHI-' Before I have time to finish my thought, his face grows slack, his eyes dim. A soft exhale of breath escapes from his lungs as his corpse collapses onto me. The point of his knife drops into the soft grass, burying hilt-deep the soil, staying upright. I take my fingers and press them into the side of his neck. No pulse. A grim smile spreads over my mouth, and I shove his dead corpse to the side. Leaving it to the earth. 'That'll look great when they turn this into a movie,' I think, grinning widely at my own wit. I reach down and seize the knife he dropped into the floor – my original knife. I sheath it back in its rightful spot on my hip. I gather up the two remaining knives from the Pacifica's belt and attach them to mine. I leave the two he impaled himself with in his body, not wanting to see the mess of his chest. Only then do I turn back to the person I was trying to save this whole time.

"What am I supposed to do with him?" I mutter under my breath, looking at the unconscious teen by the lake. "Now is not the time for a power nap!" That's when my eyes are drawn to the gravelly ground around him, and I notice how much blood he has lost. He is lying face up in a pool of his own blood. A tendril of the dark red liquid snakes its way through the gravel towards the lake, extending across the surface of the large water body. It looks like a scene from a horror movie. My face pales, my eyes widening. I jog over to him and crouch down. Examining his body, I notice that there is a massive cut extending from his collar bone to just above his ear. Thankfully, it doesn't look deep, but with the amount of blood on the floor pooling around him, I don't know how long he has left. 'How is he not dead?' I think, amazed and worried. I notice the small, inked tattoo barely visible on his skin. Whatever it used to say is now long gone though, with the cut going straight through the middle of it, the one labelling his age. It's distorted beyond being able to visibly read. I pull him onto his back. On the other side is the number '#278' More than that, a thick wooden shaft is protruding from his back. Small, bloody feathers are fixated to the end of it. 'An arrow. I hope this guy is worth it.' I reach down to my leather belt where my first aid kit is hanging, I feel nothing but air. I glance downwards before realising that I left it behind at the base with Mia. I scold myself.

Grasping the arrow shaft, I pull as hard as I can. It wiggles but stays stubbornly stuck in his flesh. 'No time to deal with that now,' I think, looking over at the forest. I try to calculate the distance between me and where the camp resides. 'Wait, I can't even remember where I emerged from the forest. It all looks the same!' An outline of motion catches my attention above the treeline. Small, wispy tendrils of smoke emerge in a thin stream from above the treetops. 'Maybe lighting a fire wasn't so bad, I know where the camp is.' Then realisation dawns on me. 'If I can see it from here, others must be able to. I need to get back. Now.' Hastily, I use my knife to cut off a strip of cloth from the bottom of my shirt and bind it around the boy's neck as tightly as I can, applying pressure to try and stop the wound from bleeding anymore. 'That should help – at least for now.' Hoisting him to his feet, I wrap my arms underneath his armpits, putting him into a fireman's grip. My arms scream in protest from their various wounds. I force It down, and slowly but surely begin dragging him towards the forest, aiming for the point where the track of smoke is visible. His feet keep dragging in the ground, loosening my grip on him. I feel my arm slipping from under his arm, and I attempt to adjust my grip. Pain shoots up my left arm again, like a layer of cold needles stabbing into my skin. My left arm slips out from under his arm completely, and I nearly drop him. Biting back the pain, I manage to catch him before he hits the ground. I carefully readjust him this time and continue dragging his limp body back towards the densely packed forest. 'Why am I doing this?' I query myself. 'I don't get anything out of it. Well, except for a possible ally.' I just shrug, putting the thoughts to the back of my mind. 'Whatever happens, I can confidently say that he 'owes me one.''

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After a few minutes of blood, sweat, and pain later, I enter the edge of the forest. Stumbling backwards through the bracken, my foot catches on a rock hidden beneath the leaf covered floor. My body lurches backwards, both of us tumbling into the clearing. The boy's heavy corpse falls on top of me. Droplets of blood scatter through the air, but I can't tell if its mine or his. I grunt in pain, craning my neck to look up. The expression on Mia's face is priceless. I suppress the urge to laugh – not even she was expecting something like that. Lightly pushing the boy off me, I lay him to the side and stand up. Immediately, my thoughts begin brainstorming ways to save him from otherwise certain death.

I turn the boy onto his back, examining the arrow shaft. 'The tip must be barbed,' I decide. I know what I need to do. I pull out my dagger and slice the skin around the arrow shaft open slightly, revealing more metal tips in the skin.

"What are you doing and who is that?" Mia demands, her face slowly returning to colour. Then she adds in a small voice; "Are they even alive?"

"Yes, he is alive. But I have no time to explain!" I reply hastily. I return to the task at hand. With a few more carefully placed slices I cut the arrow free. Once all the hooked points are revealed to the air, I grasp the shaft as close to the base as I can. With a sickening "squelch!" the arrow comes free. I throw it to the side and dash over to Mia, pulling out one of the small throwing knives as I go. "Hold this in the fire." Mia takes a deep inhale, about to make a sassy retort, but I cut her off. "Just do it!" I half yell. Turning back to my patient, I start undressing the hastily wrapped cloth from around his neck. "Okay, hand me the knife back." In my haste, I burn my thumb on the heated blade. I think nothing of it and carefully lower the blade onto the large cut on his neck, using the hot metal to cauterise it. Using the other side of the blade, I cauterise the deep arrow hole in his backside. "Get me my-'' I start.

"Is this what you want?" Mia asks, presenting me with the bag of medical supplies.

I nod in return, "thanks." Grabbing the last roll of bandages, and one of the few remaining gauze pads, I proceed to properly treat both wounds. Ten minutes later, all is said and done. In the process of saving his life, I managed to create a mess of the surroundings. 'Was it worth it? I suppose we will see soon enough.' Mia exhales a deep sigh.

"Okay, now that you're done, who is he? And why did you have to make such a mess of our otherwise flawless clearing?" Mia gestures at the mass of bloodied leaves, bandages, and weaponry/surgery utensils piled on the floor.

"I dunno," I reply, scratching my head. I lean backwards into a pile of soft leaves. "He was just some kid who needed help."

"What do you mean by 'needed help'?" Mia asks quizzically, brows furrowed. I take a breath and explain what happened.

"And the water?" Mia asks after I finish explaining. Now it is my turn to furrow brows.

"Water?" I innocently inquire.

Mia – in signature fashion – rolls her eyes. "Yes, water. You know, the liquid that is composed of oxygen and hydrogen? The one that uses hydrogen bonding. Oh, perhaps the one you drink to keep yourself alive?"

"No, I don't. Please feel free to go on. Tell me more," I mutter, sarcastically unamused.

Mia exhales deeply. "Do I need to spell it out for you Aiden? Where. Are. The. Water. Skins?" Mia emphasises every word, twisting all of them to sound like an insult.

Understanding forms in my head. "Ohhhh! The waterskins! Yes, I uh..." I flick my mind back to the lake, recalling the memories needed. "One is probably at the bottom of the lake, and the other one is by the shoreline. The latter is most likely smothered in blood." A flash of anger appears in Mia's eyes, like lightning discharging into the ground. It dissipates just as quickly. I can't help but cringe at the sight of it. 'Something tells me I don't want to get on her bad side.' "Boys can't do anything right," Mia mutters as she turns her back on me, smothering the sound of her voice somewhat. However, still speaking just loud enough to make out the gist of her words.

"What was that?" I accusingly query. Mia turns back to face me, smiling innocently, as if nothing had happened. "Nothing!" She merrily answers.

"Mhmm." I grunt, unconvinced. Mia turns away from me once more, sitting cross-legged next to the fire encircled with stones. It looks strangely like a ritual. She begins throwing sticks and branches into the flickering orange flames.

"I was right you know," she says, looking up at me. I turn to face her.

"Hmm?" She smiles a genuine smile. The motion which still sets waves of butterflies loose within my gut.

"There was dry firewood in the forest." She states simply, before turning her attention back to the fire. I chuckle and shake my head, turning back to the boy currently lying unconscious on the floor. Through a combination of cauterisation and fabric padding, his bleeding appears to have stopped, though his breathing is slow and laboured, as if he needs to force his lungs to work. 'At least he's alive.' I relieve a deep sigh and relax my muscles for the first time in a while. I sink deeper into my pile of leaves and just stay there, relaxing. I listen to the trees, the birds, and the fire. Enjoying the serenity. The seconds turn to minutes, which turn to hours.

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