Citrine (Deliverance #3)

12. Eli

12

Eli

I half expected to wake up the next morning surrounded by the black silk curtains of my latest bed sharing arrangement. Reality is rather cruel, and the chill of morning runs through me, making me shiver.

I crack open one eye. The purple skies fill my vision, reminding me that I am stranded among the stars.

My perspective of the world shifts quickly as my eyes open and soon after, my body connects with the ground. I hear the loud crack and slap my relatively unhurt hand against my mouth to stop myself from screaming.

It didn't work like I wanted, and I scream loud enough it echoes across the water.

" Hijo de puta ."

Of course, it's a bad idea to sleep on an elevated surface with no soft landing. I knew that, just like anyone does, but I didn't plan on falling asleep. I didn't even decide to go up there in the first place, that bastard.

Why put me on a place I can't get down from?

My chest rises and falls as I try to control my breathing.

I broke my arm while trying to wake up, and there are cuts all over me again.

Is there any relief for a poor girl thousands of light years away from home? My entire body trembles uncontrollably, pain spreading from my left arm to the rest of my body. It hurts like hell and my mind spins from all the pain.

" Basta! Basta! Enough , " I hiss out through my teeth.

I'm in uncharted territories where alien alligators wait for the slightest move of my body. Even the wind blowing seems like a threat.

I heave again, blinking my eyes to clear the wetness in my vision. I'm dizzy, but I can't afford to faint. Dealing with a broken arm is much better than dealing with being hunted down and eaten alive.

But damn, does it hurt.

Dios , what am I doing? Sitting on the rocks feels like being stabbed in the butt by a thousand small needles, and that alone activates the pain receptors in my arm.

With no clinics and no way to make a splint by myself, I can only bear the pain. Adrenaline will only take me so far, even though I am literally a walking target. I rest against the rock and hold my arm in the position that hurts the least, sighing.

With a broken arm, internal bleeding is the biggest of my worries. If I can't help my arm heal properly, I'll be dropping dead from an embolism soon.

I sigh again, my gaze resting on the lake. It ripples peacefully, like it isn't inhabited by dangerous creatures that want nothing more than to tear my skin apart.

A manic cackle tries to build as a light breeze runs through my hair, a shiver following it, joining the trembling of pain.

I force down the bile making its way up my throat. My body still feels strange, but if I'm alive, a broken arm, a sprained ankle, nothing can stop me from…

Wait, my ankle , I realize with a start.

I stretch my leg and flex it, rotating it from side to side. I try to get up to step on it, but the pain in my arm makes my body recoil. My arm is screaming out at me, but my ankle only has a dull ache. I can't believe it and keep rotating away.

In all my years of existence, I have never heard of someone who could heal a sprained ankle in a night.

Have I become… inhuman?

A shiver tears through my body, but it is not from the pain this time. That single thought, coupled with my environment, makes my hope dwindle. I am on an alien planet, just floating on another piece of rock through the universe, alone and hurt.

Well, not totally alone. There's the octo-man.

I remember his long tentacles reaching out of the depths, grasping at me. An echo of the visceral fear I felt staring at him rises, and my instincts scream at me to flee. I can't see him, but I can feel something watching.

A face flashes into my mind. He's been dead for a long time, but the memories of him, of a happy childhood, have always been the catalyst to keep me alive and sane. My padre .

Despite the pain, the abuse, the suffering, I keep moving forward because I want to believe life is worth living. He taught me that, and I won't fail him now just because reality shifted.

I need to get up and find somewhere away from the shore, somewhere I can find something better to eat and tend to my wounds, clean myself, and figure out why my ankle healed in just a night.

"Move, Eli. You can't stay here," I growl out.

A manic laugh bubbles up and I try to move again. Nothing.

There's a splash in the water, like something's moving toward me. I'm not the least bit curious to find out what it is.

There's hope for me yet, somewhere in this place. I just need to find it.

"Get up!" I urge myself again.

My legs are weak. I'm barely holding on to my consciousness and my sanity. There's still danger in my immediate surroundings.

My uninjured arm reaches for the nearest rock to pull myself up and redistribute my body weight. It doesn't work at first, but I'm persistent. I try again and succeed one minor pull at a time, rousing my entire body to my feet.

I stagger, but the fear of being impaled by sharp rocks keeps me on my feet.

I move, placing my hand on the nearest rocks to keep me going. I can barely see anything, but just keep shakily shuffling along, fresh injuries from the fall making themselves known with each step.

One leg at a time.

The sounds of waves crashing behind me and the vivid sense that I'm being watched keep me moving. My vision is clearing up. I'm getting somewhere at last.