Lina Darling
ANNABELLE
“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice laced with panic as I hurried over.
The sight of blood made my head spin. I quickly looked away, focusing on the sky as I took several deep breaths to calm my racing heart and the overwhelming feeling of nausea.
When I turned my attention back to the man, I noticed his shallow, ragged breaths. His thick brunette hair was plastered to his head, sweat slicking his brow and his strong jaw straining as he struggled with the pain.
“Okay. Okay. What’s your name?” I asked, crouching beside him.
“Blake.”
“Hi, Blake. I’m Annabelle. What happened?”
“I slipped on the rock and fell. My leg caught on a branch or something when I came down.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I think I might have sprained my ankle too.”
“Uh, o-okay,” I stuttered, trying to remember the first aid course I took years ago. “Let’s take a look.”
I gently moved his hand away, revealing a deep gash in his leg, blood still oozing from the torn skin. I quickly covered my mouth and swallowed several times as I closed my eyes, trying not to throw up. I’ve always been squeamish around blood.
“Um, so…we need to…um…”
“Y-you need to tie it to stop the bleeding,” Blake stuttered, his face white.
How long has he been out here? I wondered, worry clinging to me as I pulled the ripped cloth away from the wound.
“Right,” I said, reaching behind me and unclipping the first aid kit from my harness.
I opened it and pulled out two bandages. Wrapping one tightly around the wound, I secured the second one on top of it, cinching it firmly. Blake let out a moan of pain but did his best to stay still despite how agonizing it must have been for him.
“Okay. We need to find shelter,” I said, noticing the tremble in Blake’s hands and the worsening wintry mix falling around us. “Can you stand?”
“Not sure,” Blake grunted, wincing as he tried to pull himself up.
I helped him, looping his heavy arm around my neck. He was almost a head taller than me, making it a little difficult to support him.
“Thanks. There’s a cabin nearby. I can probably make it.”
“Let me help,” I said, wrapping my arm around his trim waist as he leaned heavily on my shoulders. “Lead the way.”
We slowly navigated our way through the tall trees, both of us shaking from the cold by the time we reached a clearing with a waterfall. It flowed down a small bluff and into a steady stream.
“This way,” Blake said, leading us toward a cluster of trees.
There, hidden from view, was a small, old-looking cabin. We made our way toward it, and Blake pushed the door open.
The inside was surprisingly cozy, with a bed in one corner, a fireplace in the other, and cabinets along one wall. There was a small table with two chairs near the fireplace, and a large steel bathtub tucked into the corner.
“Do you live here?” I asked softly, hoping I wasn’t being too intrusive as I helped him inside.
“Yes,” he replied, letting go of me and gripping the back of a nearby chair, his knuckles turning white.
“You should lie down. Let me help,” I said, shouldering his weight again and guiding him over to the bed. “Where are your clothes? You’ll catch a cold if you stay in those wet things much longer.”
“In there,” he said, pointing toward a small chest of drawers.
“May I?” I asked as I helped him lower himself onto the edge of the bed.
After receiving a nod of approval, I opened it and pulled out a set of dry clothes.
“These should help,” I said, holding up a slightly worn-out hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. “Need help?”
He shook his head, his face alarmingly pale. A wave of worry washed over me.
Is that from the cold or blood loss? How long was he out there bleeding?
“I can manage. Thank you,” he said, slowly standing up on his good leg and suppressing a wince.
He peeled the damp shirt off, revealing a very fit physique. I blushed when he stood to remove his torn and blood-stained pants, turning away quickly.
“Um, m-my car is at the foot of the mountain. I could take you to the hospital,” I suggested, unable to resist peeking over my shoulder.
“Neither of us is going anywhere in this weather,” he grunted, nodding his head toward the swirling white outside the small window.
“But you need medical attention,” I protested, gesturing toward his thigh and stepping toward the door. “What if it gets infected? What if you need stitches?”
He paled even more at the mention of stitches and grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
“Stay,” he said, his voice serious. “It’s dangerous out there. You could get injured or lost. I can’t let you risk it,” he added, giving me a weak smile. “We’ll manage. Besides, I think it’s stopped bleeding.”
I was still worried. Chewing on my inner cheek, I mulled over his words, trying to figure out my next move.
There were so many things that could go wrong. He could die from an infection or blood loss, and there was little I could do to help.
He was right though. The weather was far from ideal for climbing or hiking. The visibility was rapidly disappearing as the sleet shifted to heavy snow. There was a good chance I’d end up hurting myself or worse if I tried to descend the mountain now.
“Okay, but we need to clean that cut,” I said. “My first aid training is a bit rusty.”
“That’s okay. I’ll help where I can,” he replied quietly as he lay back on the bed. “There’s a kit under the sink over there.”
“All right,” I said, fetching it and moving closer.
I carefully untied the bandages, feeling a wave of relief when I saw no signs of fresh bleeding. The sight of the crusted red edges of the wound made my stomach churn, and I swallowed hard.
I took a deep breath and pulled an antiseptic wipe out of the kit. I cleaned around it as gently as I could.
“Sorry,” I murmured, giving him an apologetic smile and grabbing a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. “This might sting.”
He hissed when I splashed it over his leg, his body going rigid for a moment. I rummaged through the kit again, feeling so out of my depth.
I had no idea if I was doing the right thing, but right now, I was his only hope. I came up with a gauze pad and more bandages, covering the gash and wrapping it tightly.
“All right. All done,” I said, shivering as I wiped my hands with another antiseptic wipe.
I sneezed, trembling. I looked up, noticing Blake’s labored breaths were visible.
“Would you mind if I lit the fireplace?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Go ahead. You can borrow some of my clothes as well. You’re probably freezing.”
“Thank you,” I said, relieved at the thought of being dry and warm.
I crouched by the fireplace, piling a few logs and some kindling into the hearth. After a bit of struggle, I managed to get a fire going with a flint I found on the mantel. I stoked the flames, sighing as the heat started to fill the room.
The cabin had a cozy, woodsy smell that I found soothing as I added another log. Feeling a bit warmer, I went through Blake’s drawers again, coming up with another pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.
It felt strange wearing someone else’s clothes, but I didn’t have much of a choice. It would take hours for mine to dry.
I looked over, making sure Blake wasn’t looking, but he was lying still with his eyes closed. I quickly changed and started looking through the cabinets in the kitchen. He needed to eat something. My stomach growled in response. We both did.
I found some cans of food in the cabinets, along with a pot of leftover mashed potatoes and cabbage. I warmed it up on the fire and ladled some onto a chipped plate. Blake woke when I shook his shoulder gently.
“Please eat,” I said, offering him the food. “I usually carry some Tylenol with me, so you can take a couple after to help with the pain,” I added, carefully helping him sit up.
He nodded and took the plate. We ate in silence.
After he finished, I brought him a cup of water and some pills. He downed everything without hesitation, then lay back on the bed.
I sat by the fire, letting its warmth seep into me as I hummed a tune. After a while, I went over to check on him and found him unmoving.
My heart pounded with fear. Was he okay? I reached out and felt his warm breath on my hand, letting out a relieved sigh.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, startling me.
“N-nothing,” I stammered, clearing my throat. “Just checking.”
He chuckled weakly. “I’m okay. Don’t worry, I’ll make it through this,” he said without opening his eyes.
“How’s the pain?” I asked.
“Pretty bad, but the Tylenol helped. Thank you,” he replied.
“I’m sorry I don’t have anything stronger for you,” I said.
He was probably in more pain than he was letting on. I wished again that he had let me take him to a hospital.
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault I’m in this state,” he said, his voice steady. “I think a nap might help though.”
“Right,” I said, nodding even though he couldn’t see me through closed eyes. “Sorry. I’ll let you rest.”
I sighed, returning to my chair by the fireplace. The snow continued to fall outside the window. I watched the heavy drifts pile up, wondering if we had enough supplies.
What if Blake takes a turn in the night? What if there’s an avalanche? What if we run out of firewood?
I shook my head in frustration. If I kept worrying like this, I’d have gray hair by tomorrow. Tossing another log onto the fire, I leaned back and stared at the flames.