Chapter 31: Feral

Grant’s perspective:

As consciousness gradually returns, the smell of burning wood drifts under my nostrils. My eyes crack open to a blurred, unrecognizable world of greys, blacks, blues, and white dancing like shadows in a moonlit cave. “Fu…” I groan, trying to speak. I lift my arms and flex my hands. “Whe… Shi…”

My nervous system begins to reinvigorate. I try to sit up or roll over or something to ensure me that I am still alive and this isn’t h*ll, but to no avail. My muscles give way. I collapse to the ground. The heaviness encumbering my head twists my neck to face the source of smoke. A shadow is busily moving about on the other end of simmering coals. I blink my eyes until the haze dissipates. We are not in the plane. We are tucked away in a small open area surrounded by trees and brush.