Your Savior - 3
Thanks again to everyone for the appreciation and support that this story has gotten! I am loving writing it and hope to continue it for some time!
Thank you also for dealing with the hassle of my changing to a new blog. I was just tired of the limitations of the old one!
Swearing, mentions of violence and rape
“Simon, radio ahead to the doctor, I want him to be fucking ready when we get there.” Simon promptly followed the command, chancing a glance at you and the girl in your arms only after his task was complete.
“You really think Doc’s gonna be able to help her? She looks pretty far gone.”
“Simon, if I wanted your fucking opinion, I’d give it to you.” You grumbled, causing him to fall immediately silent. You looked down at the woman in your lap, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “This one’s a goddamn fighter.”
Tommy knelt above you, groping hungrily at your body. Bill’s hands were pressing roughly into your upper arms, his breath hot and rapid in your ear. You thrashed and fought, gasping sobs escaping between cries for them to stop.
“Darlin’, hey, it’s ok.” Ok? No! This isn’t ok! Stop, please! “Hey, c'mon doll, you’re safe wake up.” Bill began gently shaking your arms instead of pinning you down. Stop touching me! Get your hands off of me!; “Hey, shh shh, it’s ok, just relax.” Bill’s rough, greedy voice was slowly becoming low and gravely, with a hint of a drawl. Tommy instead of looking ravenous and animalistic, was replaced with dark hair, salt and pepper scruff, and dark, worried eyes. “There you are, hey beautiful. I was wondering when the hell you were going to wake up.” He said with a smile.
Panting, you took a moment to gain your bearings. You weren’t in the dirt in the forest, instead you were laying on a hospital bed in a small clinic-style room. Tommy and Bill were gone, and you were not in a glass box surrounded by walkers slowly bleeding to death. “Where….what…?” You started to say.
“You’re at The Sanctuary, my community, currently residing in our clinic. After my men and I pulled you out of that shitbox you holed yourself up into, I brought you back here and had our fine doctor patch you up.” The man sitting across from you leaned forward in his chair and grinned.
You rubbed a hand across your forehead, trying to clear your head. “How…how long have I been out?”
“Jesus.” You murmured.
“Yes, we were starting to worry that you weren’t going to wake up. Hello, I’m Dr. Carson.” Said a neatly dressed man upon entering the room. He extended a hand in greeting. “How are you feeling?”
You shook his hand cautiously, and then catalogued the feelings in your body. “Everything hurts.” You started slowly. “My head is pounding, and it’s very…foggy.”
“It appears that you took multiple heavy blows to the head. I would be amazed if your head DIDN’T hurt.” The doctor said gently, sitting on the edge of your bed and laying a hand on your shin. You stiffened slightly, feeling the pressure through the blanket, he noticed, and quickly removed his hand and standing. “I’m sorry, please forgive me…” he began, glancing nervously at the man in the chair.
“No, it’s ok, I just, I’m sorry…” you stuttered, blushing.
“Don’t fucking apologize darlin’.” Interjected the other man. “You have been through the worst type of fucking hell imaginable. You don’t have to apologize for a damn thing.” His grin was gone, replaced with a frighteningly dark scowl. “Now, when you’re good and ready, you finish up telling the doctor here how you feel.”
You were flustered now, proceeding nervously. “Um…my arms are sore, but I guess that’s to be expected after…” Bill’s face swam into you head. Fuck. Don’t cry right now, just get on with it. “And uh…my side is really…tight? I’m not sure that’s the right word.”
“Ah, yes.” Said Dr. Carson, again, glancing at the other man before continuing. “You were very lucky. The knife managed to miss all of your internal organs, stopping just millimeters from a major vessel. I was able to clean and repair the wound without causing much more damage to the area. It required several stitches, that should come out in a little over a week. I’ve been giving you injectable antibiotics to stave off infection, but now that you are awake you can switch to oral.” He hesitated, before going on quietly. “You did also require some sutures to your vaginal area….those are dissolvable and should come out on their own. If they cause you any issues, you are welcome to come see me. I can also offer some creams for discomfort. We don’t have the variety we had before the world fell apart, but we are doing better than most.”
You looked down, closing your eyes to stop the tears that threatened to flow. “Thank you.” You murmured quietly, gaining a few minutes of silence from the room.
“Ok doc, you’ve had your time to do your doctor shit. Now why don’t you run along and let me and this little lady chat.” He watched the doctor leave, turning to focus on you after the door clicked shut. “Now, sweetheart, I’ve got some questions for you, and I’ll try to keep it short. They might not all be easy, but I need you to fucking answer them, alright?” It was phrased as a question, but his tone left little room for argument.
You sighed, “Ok. I’ll do what I can.”
“Good girl.” He replied with a smirk. “Now, I’m sure you recognize this.” He said, showing you Tommy’s knife. Your stomach rolled, and you noted that it was still flaked with your dried blood. “I’d like to know where, exactly, you got it.”
“I told you before, it belonged to the men who attacked me.”
“Yes, but how did YOU get it from them?”
You took a deep breath, letting it out in a huff. You didn’t want to do this, you just wanted to forget, to move on. “One of them stabbed me with it, when I was able to I grabbed it and attacked them with it so I could escape.”
“You took a knife out of your own side…to attack somebody with?” He asked raising an eyebrow. “That is bad-ass! I fucking love that!” He grinned, staring down at you.
“It was what I had to do. I didn’t want to die. I just wanted them to stop…” You couldn’t stop the tears that formed in your eyes this time.
“Awe hell darlin’, I was trying to pay you a compliment, not upset you. I just meant that, well, most people wouldn’t be willing to do that. You’re tough, tougher than most for sure.” He said gently.
You wiped the tears from your cheeks. “Is that it? I’d like to stop talking about this now.”
“Almost doll, almost, I promise. Now, these men, how many of them were there?”
Their faces filled your mind again, making you cringe. “Two.”
“Did you know them long?”
“No. We met on the road leading to the town where you found me.” You were starting to get irritated. Living it once was hard enough, reliving it was agony.
“Would you recognize them if you saw them again?”
You stared at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be shitting me! I thought they were going to be the last two faces I ever saw alive….every time I close my eyes I see them. Unfortunately they will live with me forever. Why does it matter? Why does any of this matter? They’re gone! They got away! They assaulted me, raped me, and almost killed me, and then got to go be dickheads for the rest of their lives! Why do you need to know this? Are you enjoying yourself? Is this fun for you?!” You raged at him, chest heaving, tears now pouring down your face.
He sat back in his chair, looking like you had slapped him. He answered you slowly and sincerely. “Hey now, take it easy doll. No I most certainly am not enjoying myself. To hear the shit you’ve been through…it makes me sick to my fucking stomach. I’m only asking because this knife, the one you took from them? Do you see this symbol carved onto the side?” He asked, standing to bring it closer to you.
"The baseball bat? The one wrapped in what looks like barbed wire? I didn’t have much to look at in that ‘shitbox’, so I’m very familiar with it. Again, what the hell does it have to do with anything?”
“Well, that carving there is a carving of my sweet Lucille here.” He said, grabbing something that was leaning up against the chair he had been sitting in, bringing it up so that you could get a good view. Was that? No. Yes. A baseball bat. Wrapped in fucking barbed wire. You could see bits of dried blood stuck around several of the barbs. Your stomach plummeted and your body filled with fear. Who thinks of this kind of thing? And why the hell is it named Lucille??? “Every weapon at The Sanctuary has my girl Lucille carved into it, so that we know it’s ours. Which means that either A) it was some of my men that attacked you, or B) it was stolen from some of my men. Either way, it’s not fucking cool. ” He stared intently at you for several moments, moving "Lucille” to rest of the shoulder of his leather jacket. “Simon!” He finally shouted, making you jump.
The door opened and the mustached man from the gas station walked in. “Yeah boss?”
“Round everybody up in the courtyard. We’re going to have a fucking meeting.”
Gah!!! Ok! Here it finally is! I promise Chapter 4 won’t take as long to get out as this one! If you want to be added to the tag list let me know! And as always please, please, like, share, comment, or PM me any thoughts you have!!!!