Road to Recovery.
Carlos was dreaming again, always the inescapable, crushing walls, threatening to overwhelm him, the darkness, the damp, the misery. His existence measured by no other sensations, except the claustrophobic terror of the hole. He was being buried alive, crushed under the cold of the earth. His fingers tearing at the hard unforgiving stone of his prison as he fought to stay alive. An agonized scream escaped him then, he could take no more of the pressing darkness. Jarring him finally to full consciousness for the first time in many days.
He groaned as he opened his eyes, he could make out the rock above him not much higher than head height, and the solid walls all round. Shaking with exhaustion he slumped back on to the bed, beads of sweat running into and stinging his already sore eyes. He swallowed, his throat felt raw, his tongue felt dry in his mouth. Registering suddenly the sensation of his injured hands, and numb fingers, the nails bleeding and torn.
Carlos lay quietly for a while, his mind trying to make sense of the environment around him. Trying to recall anything at all that could enlighten him on his present situation. Still he could not think, in his ears sounded the steady drip, drip of water somewhere in a subterranean pool close by. Snippets of memories came to him, none making any sense, then one above all others he recalled. Warren, yes Warren, remembering vaguely now that it was the seemingly cowardly man who had helped him in his plight. He must have brought me here Carlos reassured himself, the notion bringing relaxation to his tense body at last, soothing him to peaceful sleep.
He awoke much later to the friendly glow of a small fire, and the aroma of roasting meat, though his weak stomach did not appreciate the usually inviting smell. He made a feeble attempt to rise and much to his chagrin, found he did not possess the strength to do so, nausea rising, and his vision swimming with the effort, he had to give the attempt away.
A short time later he heard the light footfalls, knowing even before she appeared it was a woman who approached the opening in the chamber. In a few moments there was Selene, looking as she always did and uttering not a word. Carlos tried to sit up, this too beyond his fatigued body, Selene going to his side, her gentle hands pushing him down indicating he should rest. He did not resist, and watched her go about her work from the comfort of his bed. Drifting in and out of sleep, relishing being warm and comfortable for the first time in many weeks. Relieved that the nightmare was finally over.
Thus began his many long days of recovery sequestered in Selene's caves. At first it was difficult to eat and drink, his malnourished body often rejecting even the smallest portions of food and water, yet doggedly he persisted, fighting to regain his strength. Selene daily applying her stinging, unknown salves to his many sores. First Carlos was unhappy and mistrustful of this. Though he noted that they did seem to encourage his healing with frightening efficiency, despite the stinging pain they elicited every time they were applied. His physical progress he found frustratingly slow, Carlos was unused to such feelings of weakness, battling a deficient body that would not respond to his command. Often his new state of helplessness bringing out the darkness in him, inciting him to savage temper. Selene watched on from the sidelines, maintaining her non critical silence, keeping out of his way, as he vented his frustration.
It was many days before he could even manage something as simple as a short walk, his wasted muscles almost at once screaming at him to stop. He did not get far before he buckled to the ground, his entire body shaking with both exertion and fury at his incompetence to complete such a simple task. He swore, ranted and screamed his anger and frustration at the caves stone walls, until finally he had exhausted his black temper, and himself. Selene helping him back to the comfort of his bed.
He lay there closely examining the hides whilst Selene prepared some food, the young man had never imagined this untamed girl would have been so skilled in the art of tanning and curing this bedding. They had to be the finest, softest, examples of comfort he had ever seen anywhere, admitting this petite woman child was certainly full of surprises.
As usual Carlos was ever hopeful that Selene would finally speak to him. He was sure she could hear all he said, certainly in his estimation she was far more than just a simple, mute girl. At times she would even respond with a smile to various things he said, and he found as the days passed he was feeling a strange attraction toward her he had never experienced before.
He admired the way she could indeed look after herself. Selene never failed to procure plentiful, nutritious food, which was a good thing as Carlos soon regained his appetite with gusto, consuming all he was proffered. His body mending by the day, at last regaining most of his former strength. With that too came dissatisfaction, as he felt stronger so did his desire to forever escape this wretched valley. He began to plead with Selene that she steal for him all that was necessary from the camp to equip him for his escape.
One evening as the little fire burned down to coals barely illuminating the cavern, Carlos' keen ears heard Selene's returning footsteps. Eagerly hoping that she had brought what he had asked for. As she entered the door he felt great satisfaction, she did indeed have a bundle clasped in her slim white hands. She crossed the floor, silently with all the grace of a cat, her dark eyes on him, the beginnings of a seductive smile forming on her face, and deposited the bundle squarely into his lap. He looked down, trousers and a shirt, a good start at least. Until this moment he had possessed no clothing at all, resorting to covering his nakedness with hides.
He smiled up at her. "Good work Selene, but I'll need more than just this?" She eyed him impassively, her sparkling pools of inky black quite unreadable to him. He just smiled up at her and went on. "I must have boots Selene, understand?" As he pointed to his bare feet. "And a knife." At once reaching to touch the bone knife at her waist.
Too late he realized his error, as Selene darted swiftly away to the other side of the fire her eyes glittering with apprehension. Carlos immediately sorry for his action, he had overstepped the boundary of their trust. "I'm sorry Selene." He apologized, "I didn't mean to scare you." Carlos mumbled at once feeling foolish. Instead turning his attention to the new clothes. The shirt fit well, and it was warm, made of brown hand spun wool, the trousers were khaki army issue, and a bit too large for his slim waisted frame, making it necessary to resort to tying a strip of hide around his waist for a belt. Ill fitting or not it felt good to wear clothes again. Carlos was very grateful to his silent ally, perhaps tomorrow she could steal for him again. Yes, he smiled, I will soon be ready.