I held her hand for three and a half days. It was a pale hand, even whiter than her face, and it was as cold as ice. She could have sat there forever and I would never have noticed.
Long enough for bones to heal, for minor infections to recede, for the world to turn. Capped it off with stretching, and bending her wrist so the joints could be made to flex again. Realistically, even if I had taken her in on the first day, there would've been nothing more I could do. Her back would have healed itself, given her enough time and enough water, but there was probably brain damage, and her hands in particular were completely useless.
But I didn't take her in. I was of the firm belief that people didn't need to be kept alive. I enjoyed their company enough, and I wasn't given to suffering myself that I didn't think I would notice that something was off. As long as they were comfortable enough, I had no real reason to doubt that she could live her days in my care, whether she wanted to or not.
I had to take her in – she was running, or I was running. They were both running from who, I couldn't be sure.
I sat down, and she crouched next to me. "I'm sorry you had to find me."
"No, it's okay." I hadn't meant to lie to her.
"What about your other hand?" She tilted her head, examining it.
"What about it?"
"Can you use it?"
"Yes."
"Good." She leaned in, perhaps to put her ear near my mouth, perhaps to kiss my cheek. I tilted my head and she embraced me, clutching at me as I lifted her to her feet. "Can you find them?"
Reluctantly, I nodded. Her hands brushed my cheeks, my neck, and I lay them on my arms. She could feel them, and I imagined that if she could just get her grip on them she could pull me into her arms. Maybe even get her hands on my face – I could feel the breath as it escaped from her, labored.
She had been hurt, then. I was certain of it. I had missed the little details, the things that made a body a body. I didn't miss, but I was fairly sure she didn't either.
"I can't leave you here." I kept my arms in place as she stepped towards me. I felt cold even though I should've been hot, standing out in the open like this.
"If you don't, they'll find you and kill you," she said, and perhaps she said it in frustration – her words were punctuated with a grunt. I didn't have much time to think, then.
"Right," I said, "I see your point."
She chuckled softly, the sound choked and weak. It only made me like her more. I didn't say anything else. I turned and ran, jumping over the wall and sprinting down the road. There was a building ahead of me, the bell tower at the center of a pale white stone school. When I got close enough I was able to see that its windows were broken, and trees had grown up through the tiled ground beneath it. The stairs up to the bell tower were cracked, and vines had grown up over the front door.
A small square of concrete was enclosed by a wall, and inside two women were wrestling. My eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, and as I watched the older one was on top of her, sitting on top of her legs and swinging punches down. A third woman, a girl really, held up her arms to block. Her wrists were limp, useless. She was not going to survive.
The older woman's hair was disheveled, and her clothes were dirty, stained with mud. I took a closer look. Mud from a pond, or maybe from a river. I took a deep breath and began to shout.
"Hey!" I heard a grunt, and then the older woman collapsed. "I need your help!"
They looked up at me. The woman on top turned to me, and I made sure to catch a glimpse of her face. There was blood on her mouth and nose, but she was ravenous, lean with it. The other woman, the girl, so young, was digging deep into the pockets of her jacket. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could read their lips.
"…give me something, then…"
"The thing I want–"
"–look at this! She wants this whole other world! She wants everything. And it's hers. So give her this, and I'll tell you where she is!"
The one on the ground ignored the one on her back and grabbed at my belt, dragging me close to her face. I shook her off.
"Let me go, then. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I don't have any food." She had pulled my shirt out, and was clutching at my belt.
"I just–"
"I could bring you something."
"If I catch you, I'll–"
"–I'm sorry, okay, but it doesn't do anyone any good if I starve."
I caught sight of those yellowed teeth, and I pulled away. "I'll be back."
The old woman grinned and lunged at me, leaving her companion to struggle to free herself. I dodged an overhand swing, and she fumbled the one that followed it up, overswinging and gaining nothing. I grabbed her arm and pulled, myself spinning as I did to avoid the other girl.
I was halfway to the wall when I felt someone stumble into me, a stumbling, dragging sound that went with the heavy angel stride I found myself suddenly running in. It made no sense, the suddenness of her movements, the way her hand shot up out of nowhere to claw at my face. I couldn't correct, couldn't call her off as she was too close, too strong. The stone stairs were uneven; the strength she used gave me one advantage, and I reached for it.
I brought her hand down hard on the stone and heard her howl in pain. I heard the one on top of her scream, and the other yelp something unintelligible. I could see my breath mist out around me, and I slipped off the stairs.
The woman's hand left my face, and she ran off the wall and landed heavily on the ground. I took her familiar smell and used it to aim for the spot on her back. I didn't want to hit so hard that it was painful, just painful enough to cause her to move.
The pain of the fall, and maybe my kick, wouldn't have been enough. I closed my eyes so that I didn't have to see what happened.
