The day had started out fairly sunny. There had been a small dust storm earlier in the day, but the sun was out. Collin looked around the outpost. The rains were due this month. They came every other week, bringing fresh water and fertilizer, but they were an unpredictable event. Hope blazed within Collin's chest. Rain always lifted his spirits; a break from the dry heat.
Collin took his role in protecting the outpost seriously. As a result, he started the day by checking around the perimeter of the outpost. He wouldn't leave Rudy locked in the basement, but he still made sure the gate was closed. He picked up his crossbow and tucked it under his arm.
Collin walked out to the edge of the outpost. He was careful to look for newcomers. He saw a female figure walking towards the main house; most travelers came in vehicles; traveling by foot was too dangerous in this climate. Collin saw her as she staggered around the ruined outbuilding; the walk of a person half-dead and crazed by thirst and exposure.
Collin knew the symptoms all too well. He ran out to meet the stranger.
"Are you okay?" Collin asked with concern. "What are you doing out here?"
The woman, more like a girl, looked like she'd lived in the desert for days. He knew it was too dangerous for him to leave, but his instinct told him to help her.
The girl turned slightly, and Collin was shocked to see her bruised face. He walked towards her closer, fearing she would pass out. She barely made it to the porch of the bungalow and collapsed in his arms. The girl's cracked lips parted and a swollen tongue appeared. Her voice sounded painful, barely above a whisper.
"Water." She said, eyes wild. He felt sick to his stomach at how close she was to dying.
He ran into the bungalow and grabbed a water bottle. He went back and held it to her lips. She gulped it greedily. Collin held his hand on her back as she finished the bottle. She had the body of a mature woman, but looked young, maybe nineteen or twenty. She barely nodded as she finished the water, eyes still wild. The girl looked up at him with her dilated eyes. Collin was taken aback by her beauty.
Her head dipped suddenly as unconsciousness swept over her. Collin gathered her in his arms and carried her inside. He laid her on a cot in the back room. He went into the kitchen and began filling a glass with water, putting some ice cubes in it, and returning to the bedroom. He listened for any sounds from her. The girl groaned in the dark. Taking a soft cloth from the bathroom, Collin wet it in cool water and dabbed her dry lips. Checking her pulse, he sighed in relief. He sat down by the bed and ran a finger along her forearm.
What was she doing here? This was not how he expected things to happen. He was a guard, not some nurse.
He sighed again. He checked her pulse again.
She is strong.
Collin shook his head.
Not strong enough. He placed one hand on her forehead to check her temperature.
Still warm. She might live, he thought. If she does then I'll let her stay until she's well enough to travel.
Collin reached behind him to grab a blanket from a pile near the door. He gently placed it over the sleeping woman. He pulled his hand away and stood.
Collin left her sleeping peacefully in the makeshift hospital. He thought of getting medical assistance but decided against it. This was one of those times when his instincts told him to go alone, save everyone else, or stay with someone. Still, he was taking care of her, making sure she was okay. It was his protective side.
Collin rushed to the old schoolhouse where he kept the medical supplies. He grabbed a few items and went back to the main house.
The hard part was getting a vein, constricted by dehydration. He finally found one on the inside of her wrist and injected her with a few saline solution shots. He put an IV drip into her other wrist.
She shivered and whimpered from the sting. Collin wiped off some sweat from her forehead and neck with a towel he found lying about. His heart clenched.
Her skin was hot.
"Please don't die." He whispered quietly.
His hands shook. He needed to get her out of this state.
His fingers brushed lightly over the bruises on her arms. The heat could have possibly killed her. He looked back at her pale face. Who knew what had happened to her? Where was her family? Or at least a group she was traveling with?
Collin shook his head angrily. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. He was not responsible for any of that. But she was still here, bleeding and hurt. Why did he feel so bad?
She shivered and whimpered from the sting. Collin wiped off some sweat from her forehead and neck with a towel he found lying about. His heart clenched. The girl seemed to calm down as the pain faded away. He cleaned her mouth and washed her hands.
He spent a few minutes looking at his patient. Collin moistened the girl's lips with a washcloth again, and then wiped her arms with the cool cloth.
He saw marks on her wrists. They looked like they had been caused by some kind of restraint. He could see the dark circles under her sunken eyes. There were red dots on her ribs; they definitely looked like they were from sunburn. The small red dots were surrounded by a larger circle of dark scabbing. This must be what happened when the UV beat down on her unprotected skin.
Collin watched over her as she slept. She must have been through a terrible experience. She wasn't dressed for traveling. She was wearing a halter-top and a knee-length skirt. Her bare feet had been cut by the terrain. Her stomach was covered in redness. He looked closer at her neck. He saw more marks, but he thought he saw cut marks. What had this girl been through? He felt sorry for her. Collin saw bruises on her arms. Her legs, from the knee down, looked like they had been burned. He guessed the girl had been on the road all night. He tried to take a few mental notes on her appearance; she was slim, Caucasian, and other than the injuries, sunburn, and dehydration, appeared healthy.
He looked down into her face. She was beautiful in the way that only sleeping beauty could be. Her large eyes were closed. Her beautiful lips were cracked and dry.
Where had this girl come from? Why had she been alone in the desert? How far had she traveled? Collin wondered if she was lost, or in danger. She probably suffered from heatstroke; her body was probably burning, and he had given her some water. Collin couldn't let her die. At least he could give her a few days to heal up.
Collin could already hear her tossing and turning on the cot. He watched over her for the next few hours. He never let his mind leave her. He kept saying she was going to be okay.
He rubbed lotion on her skin; it was so hot and blistered. When he was rubbing her arm, he noticed a bracelet on her wrist. It had a name engraved and a date of birth; the date was before The Fall, so she wasn't much younger than him. The bracelet said "Kayla".
Collin looked at the girl's strange attire. She was wearing a skimpy halter top. He took her hands in his and looked at her nails, painted neon pink. The pink shell-like nails were cracked and chipped.
She struck Collin as odd. The clothes didn't seem like the girl herself. In his opinion, they were more for someone else, some other girl. He remembered that her eyes had been dilated. Did she use drugs? The beauty of the girl was only eclipsed by her strange state. She whimpered in her sleep, a shudder going through her. He pulled a blanket over her. He wondered if she had been in some kind of abusive relationship. He went to wash her feet and noticed she didn't have any underwear on. Collin dabbed her feet with the lotion he fetched from the school storeroom. He felt bad for getting too close to the girl. She was unconscious, but he couldn't help admiring her, even if it was just on a superficial level. She was probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. How did she come to be in the desert in the condition she was in?
The girl groaned in her sleep. Her voice was hoarse. "Water."
Collin gave her some water.
She was sleeping for a little over an hour.
"What is your name?" Collin asked.
"Kayla." She whispered. Her eyes closed again.
Kayla's beautiful face was calm, but her hands were trembling. He had given her painkillers so that she could sleep through the worst of the pain. He waited with her for the illness to pass.
He asked himself how he ended up caring so much about a stranger. The anxiety gripped him, sinking him into a mood of self-doubt and depression. In the middle of this, he glanced at the girl in the bed, her fair skin, her straight, long, silken hair, and a well-formed, stern chin.
She stayed asleep until noon the next day. Collin was there as she woke up. Her eyes were wide with fear when she looked at him.
"It's alright, you're safe." He said gently. He went to touch her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, but she jerked away.
Though still shaky, Kayla was reaching to yank out her IV.
"Don't put any more drugs in me!" she screamed. Collin had to pin her down. She fought him.
"Calm down!" he shouted as he held onto her thin, cold arms. "I'm not going to hurt you. Calm yourself. Listen to my voice."
She was trying to escape, but her strength was fading.
"No! Let me go! Let me go!" she repeated. "Let me go!"
"Kayla, stop being ridiculous! You're in no condition to walk around!" he snapped at her. He couldn't get a hold of her because of Kayla's panic.
"Easy! It's not drugs, it's just a drip to help you get rehydrated."
"Don't touch me! Don't kill me!" She screamed.
She writhed in his grasp, kicking her feet violently.
"Stop, dammit! Calm down!" he shouted at her. "You can't be thinking of getting up and running. You have to lay back down. You need to rest." Her breath was still labored.
Collin made the mistake of turning away. Kayla grabbed his sidearm out of its holster. Collin jumped back, not knowing what she might do. What else do you do if someone grabs your gun?
"Get the fuck away from me!" she cried.
"Please don't shoot me!"
Kayla backed up. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and Collin could see that she was scared. Was she just scared and not thinking straight, or psychotic? Or both? Her breathing became shallow and erratic. Collin could tell that she was terrified, but she refused to show it. He looked at her with concern. Kayla seemed completely unaware of her surroundings and continued to hyperventilate. Did she even know how to shoot a gun? She was obviously afraid of Collin. Collin slowly approached her while keeping his distance.
"Kayla, I swear, I won't hurt you. I promise." He held out his hand to her.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly.
Kayla had the gun in a white-knuckled grip, but she still trembled violently. Collin put his hands up.
"See, I don't have any weapons. Just put the gun on the floor okay? " He pleaded with her, hoping to convince her of his honesty.
Kayla shook her head as tears flowed down her flushed cheeks. She sniffed. "I can't... I can't...I can't...."
"You can't what?"
"I can't go back! They'll find me! They'll kill me!" She yelled at Collin. Collin could tell she was trying to stay calm, but she was scared. Collin could smell the fear on her.
"They? Who will kill you?"
"They are after me!" She sobbed, hysterically. She was shaking all over.
"Kayla, this is a safe place. Whoever is after you, I can look after you. I know people who can take care of you. Just put the gun down, okay?"
Kayla took a few breaths, never taking her eyes off of him. Finally, she set the gun on the floor beside the cot. Collin sighed, relieved. He looked at her.
"Now, where did you come from? Where are you going?" He asked.
He noticed she didn't have the same heavy Aussie accent he did.
"Why would I tell you?" she snarled at him.
"Because I want to help you if you'll trust me." He smiled, trying to put her at ease, but she looked at the floor.
"My name is Collin, Collin Darrow." Collin told her. She stared at the floor, not responding. He continued.
"What are you running from?" he asked.
Kayla looked at him, fear written on her face. Collin paused, wondering what it was. He didn't speak, giving her time to answer. After a few moments passed, he spoke again.
"You don't have to tell me anything, I hope you know you're safe here. I'm not going to harm you. Where are you from?" he asked.
"I was born in the U.S., my parents sent me here after The Fall when I was six or seven; they were told I was going to a school and shelter. It wasn't...." she said, her voice sounding scared and vulnerable. Her eyes cast downward. She broke off as the memory became too painful to talk about
"Kayla," he said softly, "What happened to you?" Something horrible had happened to her, he knew from experience.
Kayla managed to take a deep breath, her voice soft. "I was trafficked..... I was a sex slave." She said.
She turned away from him, unable to look at him. Collin stood up and moved away from her. His knees buckled from his heartache and sadness. He sat on the bench and looked down at his hands. His head hung low.
No wonder she was so terrified.