Living Forest (10 page)

“Mr. Wolf, I brought you some food. I need to change your bandages, and I have medicine here from the doctor.”

Gasping her breath she says surprisingly,

“Mr. Wolf!”

Looking down, the woman notices that I kick my clothes off while I sleep. I slowly wake and linger a moment before I realize her shocked expression. Quickly I grab my quilt and cover. I’m not embarrassed by my nudity. I just want to help ease her tension, which I can tell by her heavy panting.

She coughs then swallows her saliva. She can’t keep her eyes on my eyes. They keep wandering down to my crotch. I kindly grab the food and medicine. I only speak like I do because I still feel like I’m dreaming. Sarcastically I respond,

“Thank you miss, is there anything else you need me to do?”

A low short chuckle sounds from her. She places her right index finger upon her lips licking the tip with her tongue. Inhaling that famous breath before she speaks,

“I think I need to go.”

She looks at me as if those words which flow from her are nothing more than a lie. This mysterious petite hotel nurse turns to leave. I grab her hand and lustfully say,

“But miss, you haven’t changed my bandages yet. I think you should stay.”

She lets out the deep breath she has been holding since I grabbed her. The sound that flows from her sends a throbbing sensation through me.

“Mmmmm…Ohhhhh… Yes!” She starts breathing heavily while ripping her clothes off.

I’m not sure what I’ve done, but she’s loosing it on me. The blanket flies off of me through the air. Like a panther, this woman pounces on top of me as if I’m wounded prey. Placing her legs around my head, she starts sucking on the head of my penis.

Pleasure flows through me stopping my thoughts only to say,

“Oh yeah… God yes… Don’t stop… Yes… Yes… That’s it… Oh yeah…”

She stops to softly say,

“Please go slow!”

In the back of my mind I’m waiting for someone to kick down the door. I realize something though, I’m having sex with a woman that I have no name for. A curious tone mixing with pleasure plasters my voice.

“Please don’t stop this, but what’s your name. I feel odd going this far with you and not kno kno knowing, wow… umm… oh yeah, I want to know your name.”

Looking back at me, she smiles and gingerly laughs,

“It’s Amanda silly.”

She begins to stroke my shaft with both hands while sucking on the tip. Amanda bites off the head of my penis. Pain quickly shutters through my body, and blood squirts everywhere. She turns, looking at me with solid black eyes. Spitting it out in my face she says,

“Beep…beep…beep…beep…”

Screeches of fear bellow from me.

“Aaaaahhhhhhhhhh, help, help, help”

Oh crap it’s another nightmare. That’s weird, my nightmare had a nightmare. I quickly pinch myself to make sure this time is real. Speaking loudly,

“Ouch… this is real.”

I awake in my room inside the South Beach Hotel. I walk up to the wall mirror and stare at the damage done to my body. I look like I’ve been in a cage fight until death, but I feel worse than I look.

Ring, ring, ring… Ring, ring, ring… the phone beside the table chimes.

Picking up the phone, a digitally recorded female voice responds,

“Mr. Wolf, this is customer service. We’re delivering your nine o’clock wake up call. Your breakfast is in route to be delivered. Thank you, and have a great morning.”

I get dressed and await room service to knock on my door, but they never do. Walking out of my room there’s no one around. I walk towards the lobby and hear a commotion of people that remind me of the feeling I felt while on the cruise line. Flashes of cameras paint the wall ahead. Turning the corner from the hallway, there’s no one there. I think to myself intently,

“Did I miss everything? They must be outside.”

Leaving the lobby through the sliding glass doors, it looks like any other day. Sun shining, salty ocean breeze flowing through the air, and sea gulls gulling in the distance for food from nearby tourists make this a normal day. A limousine rolls beside me, the passenger rear door opens, a deep male voice with an Australian accent says,

“Hop on in here mate. I know your sheila… Amanda.”

My eyes widen, my jaw muscles loosen, and if feels like spiders are crawling inside of my stomach when this man spoke her name. Shocked, but curious I question him.

“Who are you, and how do you know Amanda?”

The man is hidden inside the limo, causing difficulty trying to identify him. Ginger chuckles bellow from the mystery man,

“My baby girl said you were like this. Let’s just say Jim isn’t Amanda’s real father. I left that big bitch ages ago. Now, are you going to make me wait here all day?”

His voice sounds solid knowing he spoke the truth, but I’m bit leery of jumping in the car with strangers. I’m really just the opposite, the one to quickly run away. Looking in the direction of the man, I speak with no intentions on entering that limo.

“Why do you want me to enter your car, so you can kill me? I’ll take my chances in the comfort of my own hotel. The police will be on their way.”

The man spoke with disappointment as I turn to leave. A long sigh strikes his voice before he says,

“Amanda did say you’re like this as well.”

As I fully turn around, two men grab me and throw me into the limo. I wiggle and squirm. I kick, scream, and punch at the assailant forcing me on the limo seat. The Australian man speaks with a tone of regret now.

“You could’ve just listened to me Hollister and avoided ourselves this big scene. Now you have to take a long nap. When you wake from this, you better have an attitude change with me.”

Screaming at the top of my lungs, praying someone would come to my rescue, only one word can make it from my lips. Long winded, screechy, and squalling I bellow,

“Hhheeelllp.”

The Australian man, now becoming angrier yells,

“Rosco, you better get your ass over here with that tranq and put this kid down.”

A sharp pain stabs through my clothes and into my hip. I can taste lemons and smell cotton candy. My vision is now distorting and going blurry. My eyes become heavy. The Australian man now calmly speaks,

“Hollister, you could’ve done this the easy way. Good night.”

I inhale my last conscious breath of cotton candy then blackness takes over my body.

Chapter Nine

Today’s the day I die. I don’t really know that, this is just one of those eerie feelings when you get it, you can’t ignore it. I’m not sure where I am and even more so, I’m afraid to even open my eyes right now in fear of what I may see. I don’t feel bound to anything, though I can’t move as if I am. The pungent aroma of coffee brewing opens my senses as well as my eyes. I find myself lying on my bed in my grandfather’s house.

The door to my room is cracked, and the blind to the lonely bay window is twisted to allow a morning view of the cold clouds. On my end table sits a steaming cup of coffee and a note that reads,

Hollister,

We’re here to help you. Amanda told us about Trish’s escape from the mental ward. She will be here to kill you and we can protect you. We know about your family’s secret, the secret you’re just now finding out about. We even know more than you. Who do you think put the old chest onto the moving van? When you’re ready to talk and not run this time, please join Amanda and myself downstairs.

I don’t know what to think about this. I did wake up, even to that in my bed with a cup of coffee. Maybe I did misjudge them some, but why kidnap me?

“Hmm…”

I was kidnapped from one home to another home that I own. Is that even kidnapping or just transporting? No, kidnapping. I still feel groggy from the tranquilizer they shot me with. I’m not going downstairs this time without a weapon of some sort. Right now I’m not even sure if I shouldn’t jump out of my window and run like hell.

They know about the treasure though, and it’s somewhere on my land. Wait, do they want to help me find it or kill me and take it for their own gains? If they know more than me then they could’ve just stolen it while I was living at Mississippi. There has to be more to this treasure than what I know of. I need to know their motives and find out if they’re really friend or foe. I put my clothes back on then search a nearby dresser while drinking the coffee.

Excitement quickly strikes my voice,

“Yes, it’s still here.”

I found my pocket knife that I had as a little boy. It may be small, but with enough quick sticks, Rosco will not jab me with another tranquilizer again. Creeping up to the crack in the door, I glance through and see no one near. Quietly I sneak the door open, trying to not make even the slightest of sounds. Like in a game of stealth I place my back up against the wall. Quietly sliding from shadow to shadow, I find myself at the stairs to the front door.

Kneeling with my back against the wall, I cautiously peer around the corner. Amanda is sitting on the front couch beside a man she does resemble. He must truly be her father. I listen closely to see if I can overhear any of their conversation. A male voice speaks intensively,

“I hated to bring him here like we did, but you’re right sweetie. He’s a runner unlike all of his ancestors.”

Amanda responds to her father in an amused manner,

“You should’ve seen him try and climb the tree tower. I hoped what happened between us on the ship would’ve made him more of a man, but I wasn’t expecting William to die in front of us either.”

Amanda’s father responds with light chuckles,

“Yeah, this kid has his world all fucked up. It’s a good thing he doesn’t know he’s going to be…Oh hey there Hollister, we’re just talking about how good your day is going to be.”

I heard that part of their conversation, and to my perspective it didn’t sound like a good thing. My eyes are now locked onto Amanda’s father. I’m breathing slightly heavier than normal before I rashly respond,

“From where I was standing it didn’t sound as if my day is going to be that great.”

Amanda’s voice quickly interrupts thoughts any may have, throwing a petulant tantrum saying,

“I told you, Hollister will run. Grab Him!”

Pounding beats from my heart nearly collapse my chest, while the sound of large men trampling through the hallway sends chills racing through my spine. Grasping onto my small knife, I race for the front door ready to stab anyone that gets in my way. Almost reaching the door, Rosco sprints out of an open door from the office on the right and tackles me. Falling to the ground, with Rosco’s arms around my waist, I stab him in the side as many times as I can. As I hit the ground I hear screaming words from Amanda,

“Don’t kill him. I need him alive.”

I look up towards Amanda and see a big fist connect to the side of my face. I couldn’t see anything there after, but I feel my head being hit and slammed against the ground repeatedly. Screams from Amanda resonate through the room. A longing word entangles with her high pitch screams.

“NOOOOOOOO”

I defecate and urinate on myself. The warmth flows away from my body. My skin quickly becomes cold like ice, while the muscles and bones in my body stiffen like a board. There are no more breaths flowing in and out of my chest. No more pulsating rhythms surge through my veins. I’m clinically deceased.

Life after death is no shiny bright lights. There’s no complete emptiness either. It’s like a waiting room in a doctor’s office. It feels like I’m the only appointment for the day or the last appointment just waiting for them to get me a room ready. My name is never called. I have no number. I just wait and wait hoping someone would rescue me.

A person I’ve never met before sits down beside me. He’s exactly the same height and body tone as me. His skin is much darker than mine, but much of it is painted in ash and blood. He speaks to me in a beautiful language that I don’t know, but I understand everything he’s saying. It’s like he’s peacefully singing, but these are the words that translate to me.

“You’re our last living predecessor. Through your murder we will exact revenge. If you allow me to enter your body, I’ll open this trap, heal you, and allow us to live once again. Will you do this son?”

I know he’s not my father, but yet he feels like a father. I try to say,

“Yes.”

That word doesn’t come out of me. A bright light blinds me and then I softly hear,

“Before I bring you back to life, I’ll take control of your body and spirit until I have cleansed our land. While I’m in control of you, I want you to see why I have to do this. You should see why we must clear the land of those who carry no blood of our many fathers. Every transgression oppressed against us is now yours to see and feel.”

The bright lights go out, and blackness encumbers my mind once again. Oddly, I don’t feel dead, just asleep. I wake up in a bed. It’s not my own, but a bed made of wood sticks and buffalo hide. The house I awake in isn’t even a house, but looks to be nothing more than a round hut. It’s freezing cold outside, so cold that when I exhale my breath creates miniature snowflakes. I feel alive again, because I can feel. It’s distinctly different than being dead let me reassure you that. The difference is I feel like me on the inside, but I don’t look the same on the outside.