Chapter 8

Nicole felt the great pain as she opened her eyes in the dark. She looked around the room trying to find out where she was. She was both frightened and thirsty. It was such an effort to raise her head that after an initial try, she let it drop back onto the pillow. Tears from the searing aching all over her body ran down her cheeks.

She felt weak as a kitten as the howling wind outside made things rattle and shake.

She tried staying awake but her body was beaten and broken. She closed her eyes to listen to gusts blowing just outside the wall her foot was touching. The cold on toes felt strangely comforting like an ice pack on her head the morning after she drank too much. She couldn’t move and eventually fell asleep.

Nicole opened her eyes. They were blurred. She made out a small boy walking to and fro from one room to the other. She closed her eyes as tight as she could then opened them again. It was fuzzy but much clearer. She saw the boy walk by. No, that wasn’t right.

He was an odd looking man with a hunched back, short legs, arms that fell past his knees, cragged face, a shaved head. His nose was normal sized as was the rest of his face. Only his ears were longer than usual.

“Hello,” Nicole croaked. The man quickly turned toward her.

“I see your awake,” his deep sounding voice replied. She estimated that he had to be well under five foot tall. Maybe four foot-six or even shorter.

“Where am I?”

“You were in a plane crash.”

She nodded her head, “But where?”

“The interior of Alaska, about one hundred miles south of Barrow.

Do you want something to eat?”

“Not now,” her voice slowly returned. “I’m thirsty and need something for the pain. When I was out, I didn’t feel it.”

“That’s because I’ve been giving you shots of morphine,” he stated, heading to the kitchen and getting her a bottle of water.

“Got anymore?” she asked, taking a long drink. The coldness of the liquid soothed her sore throat. Every time she swallowed, her ears hurt. And she still had that awful headache to go along with the rest of her beat up body.

“Morphine?”

Nicole nodded.

“I don’t have too large of a supply but I can give you another shot if you want.”

“Please?” the redhead begged. She watched him disappear for a few minutes then reappear holding a syringe. He wiped an alcohol pad on her upper arm. Then gave her the shot. “Thank you,” she said, trying to smile.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

“What is your name?” she inquired.

“Horace,” he grinned, showing his teeth. They were pretty much straight with just a few jagged ones.

“Nice to meet you, Horace. My name is Nicole.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“How did I get from the plane to here?”

“You crashed about two months ago just a few hundred yards from here. I carried you here and placed you on the bed. Then I went out to get your things.”

“Thank you, wasn’t I too heavy for you?”

Horace sat down in a chair where she could have a good view of him until the drug kicked in and take her back to sleep.

“No you’re light as a feather. My mother had tuberculoses and I came into this world deformed as you can see.”

“You’re my hero. No hero of mine has deformities,” she said slowly as the morphine start doing its work. Nicole couldn’t keep her eyes open as blackness took her under.

She then recalled the plane and its crash in the snow. How did she get from there to here in the bed. What happened to the plane to cause it to go down? One second Nicole was throwing the murder weapon away, the next she lost control and altitude. She didn’t recall hitting the ground.

Nicole awoke hours later feeling better. Her intense headache was gone replaced with just a dull pain. Her body was still sore but could feel that it was healing. Nicole knew she was getting better because she was worried about her hair, how her face and nails faired through the crash.

She found her bottled water and took a drink. Horace was no where to be found. She needed to urinate badly.

Just as she thought this Horace came into the dwelling carrying a load of firewood. Although he had electricity, the cooking stove was wood burning.

“Where’s your bathroom?” Nicole asked.

“The door on the right side of the kitchen,” he answered. “Do you think you can walk there on your own? You’ve been out of it for over two months.”