One year earlier
A woman burst into the clearing, her short hair matted and tangled. She stood to catch her breath, blood flowing from a shallow cut in her arm. As she took stock of her surroundings, she became aware of the rifle that was levelled at her.
"Well, well, what have we here? Runaway thief, are you? Don't move, if you know what's healthy for you." Said the guard protecting the scientific expedition which had set up camp in the clearing.
"What are you doing, you fool? Can't you see she's unarmed and terrified? Stand down!" Ordered the head of the expedition, a young scientist who looked more like an athlete than one of the foremost minds of his generation.
"You don't give me orders, egghead. Back off!" Snarled the guard.
"I'm the one paying you, and I'm ordering you to stand down. If you have a problem, give me back the money and leave. Understood?" The scientist demanded, locking his intense gaze onto the guard's face. After a moment, the guard's eyes slid away and he lowered his weapon.
"Your funeral..." He muttered into his beard. Ignoring him, the young man strode forward, smiling reassuringly.
"It's okay. We won't hurt you. What happened? You look scared half to death." He said in a calm, soothing voice.
"Don't come closer!" The woman said, her voice edged in hysteria.
"Okay then, I'll just stay over here," he said, sitting on the grass. "My name's George, by the way. I'm the leading researcher for a new kind of tracking technology, used to study how animals migrate and hunt. What's your name?" He carried on speaking in that quiet, level tone, as if to calm a wild animal.
"Why do you have guards and guns? You're lying! You work for him!" She was entering a blind panic, and George decided to try a different tack.
"Look, Miss... You're hurt, and it's cold out. It'll be dark soon, too. Now, I can give you medical help, warm food and a safe place to sleep tonight. I don't know who you think I work for, but I promise we're just doing some field research here. Come with me, and we'll get you looked after. How does that sound?" He asked, smiling slightly, with genuine warmth and kindness in his intense brown eyes. As he spoke, he saw some of the tension and fear recede from her body, to be replaced by weariness.
"Name's... Abigail." She said, swaying with exhaustion and blood loss. George sprang up and caught her as she fell, cradling her slim figure in his arms.
"Well, Abigail, let's get the medics to have a look at you, shall we?" He said, carrying her to the field medic tent.
No comments:
Post a Comment