Chapter Six
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"Enough babbling…Grab him."—Shin-ra Soldier
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The black chocobo contrasted strongly against the white snow. It trotted over the snow nervously as its rider hurried it along. It let out a wark in protest to being pushed so hard, but did not go against the instruction it was given.
Samantha Bonefield said nothing but touched the bird’s head gently. It was a gloved had, but obviously slender and long.
Sam was covered in furs to protect against the frozen air. The only portion of her face that could be seen above her scarf were her dark brown eyes, fixed on a point ahead of her. A few wispy strands of hair flew out from under her hood, dark black. It was obvious, despite the many furs she wore, that she was incredibly thin. Her eyes had dark shadows under them.
She pulled the chocobo to a dead stop about a foot away from two forms that lay sprawled across the ground. She dismounted, scratching the chocobo above its eyes before she walked over to the first form.
She bent over to examine her find closely, realizing that it was a dead chocobo. It had many scratches across its body, all of them jagged and large. A wing was even missing, to her surprise.
She stood up, shaking her head. She went over the other form, surprised to find it was a man. She immediately checked his pulse, noting that it was there but incredibly weak. She sighed in relief that he was alive. She examined him completely, only noticing a few wounds that were on him. His short blond hair was a mess, part of it coated with blood.
There were footprints of a beast near the scene, blood trailing along with them. It was probably dead from whatever wounds the man had inflicted, but there was no way of telling. The footprints resembled those of a wolf, but she couldn’t be sure that they really belonged to a wolf.
She turned to her chocobo, pulling on its reigns to bring it near. It warked at the heightened smell of blood, but didn’t pull away from her as she carefully moved the man up onto its back. She mounted up in front of the man easily, as if he wasn’t even there.
The man groaned, moving a little. She noticed this and pulled his arms so they rested around her waist. As the chocobo began moving, she felt his grip tighten automatically to hold on. He stayed awake for only a minute, slipping into unconsciousness again for the long ride back.
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"Where did you find him, Sam?"
"Why’d you bring him here, better yet! You know how bad of an influence outsiders are!"
"Let her answer my question!"
The room was silent for a while as the three women exchanged glances. The man lay sleeping deeply on the bed, covered in a heap of blankets. Samantha sat by a laptop computer, frowning at her companions.
"Aren’t you going to answer?" one woman demanded. She stood at the doorway, the other woman stood to her right.
Sam turned to the computer to type a message. "You should leave."
"What?" the second woman demanded.
"You should leave," she typed again.
There was a groan from the bed as the man shifted a little. All three women turned to him. "Go, now," Sam typed.
The two others left, grumbling in protest. They closed the door after themselves as his eyes fluttered open. "Wh-where…"
Sam walked to his side, putting a cool hand on his forehead. She was tall and slender, her skin as pale as the snow outside. She wore a long red dress that hung about her neither tightly or loosely. She frowned slightly, her brow knitting.
"Who…" he mumbled.
She nodded, moving back to the computer. "Samantha Bonefield. Call me Sam," she typed quickly.
He read over it, looking at her closely. "You can’t…talk?"
"No, I can’t. Name?" Sam typed.
He nodded. "I’m Andrew Holzoff… Not Drew, Andy, Anna, or anything like that."
She smiled. "Okay, Anna… I see you’ve recovered."
He frowned, muttering something to himself. "Recovered from what? I don’t remember…"
"I found you in the middle of the snow plains. Your chocobo and you were found wounded. I think you were attacked," she typed.
"Oh… I remember now." He frowned then smiled weakly. "I guess I shouldn’t have gone out alone."
"There was no way for you to know that would have happened, Anna."
He blinked. "Are you going to keep calling me that?" he demanded, trying to look her straight in the eyes and keep his dignity.
"Actually… I probably will…" she smiled widely. "Anyway, do you have anyone you want notified that you are safe? You’ve been here for about five days, so someone might be worried about you."
Andrew shook his head, wincing at the movement. "No… I’m not expected by anyone…" He looked away from her. "I’m gone so they’re probably overjoyed… Especially Jess…"
"Why would they be happy for you to be gone? And who’s Jess?" she asked.
Andrew let out a short bark of laughter. "I’m a problem for the majority of the people at Icicle Inn. They find me too headstrong. And Jess is a lovely girl who thinks absolutely nothing of me."
Sam didn’t reply. Instead, she turned away slightly.
"Hey. I should be thanking you! I mean, carrying a big guy like me from those plains must’ve been a pain. And it’s not like beautiful women come to my aid on a regular basis," Andrew said hurriedly, feeling like he had said the wrong thing.
Sam turned back, a slight grin on her face. "Get some rest, Anna. You need it." She turned the computer off and left him alone. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep again.
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Andrew woke up alone in the small room, wondering where he was. He knew that he was at Sam’s house, but that was as far as his knowledge went. She had neglected to tell him what town, if any, they were at. He rolled over, pulling the blankets tighter around himself, shivering.
His eyes went to the laptop computer, wondering if she left a message for him. He smiled when he saw her words. "Didn’t I tell you to rest, Anna? No matter… I’ll be back before lunch. See you then."
Andrew yawned and pulled himself to a sitting position. He winced, grabbing the back of his head. It was bandaged, but a small amount of blood seeped through onto his hand. He pulled the hand away, staring at the blood.
"Oh, man. I really did myself in this time," he grumbled.
He looked over at the door when he heard sounds of heavy footsteps and deep voices. He could tell they were men, and angry men at that. He quickly lay back down, closing his eyes and forcing his breathing to a slower rhythm. Despite the beating of his heart, he was able to look as if he slept peacefully.
"…kill him. It’s more trouble than it’s worth to keep someone like him!" one voice growled irritably.
"We can’t just kill him!" the second replied, appalled.
"He’s probably an outlaw, thief, or murderer! Why else would he have tried to go out in a blizzard? Obviously a desperate man!"
It wasn’t a blizzard when I started out, Andrew thought to himself. Heck, I was fine until that beast came along! It seemed that right after that it started snowing.
"We don’t know that! What if he’s just down on his luck and finding a different place to live? Or what if he is just a traveler?"
"A guy like him? Look at him. He as ‘scum’ written all over him! And you know what happens when outsiders come. They bring nothing but bad luck!"
The second man remained silent, walking to the foot of the bed. "He’s just a kid."
"Tch. That’s what you think. Sure, he looks like a kid, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a little thief, too!"
Andrew was getting bored of the conversation, even though he was the center of attention. He decided it was time to make an appearance. He stirred a little and groaned, opening his eyes. He looked at the two men, eyes widening. "Wha—?" he began.
"You woke him up!" the first man growled. He had a completely dark complexion, even his skin was heavily tanned. He held the hilt of a knife in his hand tightly.
The second man had a slightly lighter look to him with his brown hair and eyes. His wide eyes looked from the first man and onto Andrew. "Ummm…"
Andrew pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing against the pain in his head. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"We should be asking you that, scum," the first man growled. He took a step forward, eyes glancing about the room. He saw the computer screen and read the message. "We still have a few hours to take care of…Anna."
Andrew groaned, wishing he had never come up with that silly introduction line. "It’s Andrew, and I’d like to know what you want from me."
"It’s simple, really. We want you to get out, or we’ll put you out…using certain techniques, of course," the first man replied, fiddling with his knife.
Andrew arched an eyebrow. "So, you’re gonna attack an unarmed man who’s wounded? I bet the girls just really dig you," he replied dryly.
The second man grabbed the first man’s shoulder. "He’s right, Dan. It wouldn’t be right to—"
"Shut up, James! I really don’t care what you think. I just want to take care of this guy and get out of here," Dan growled, shoving James away.
James took a few steps back, his own hand falling on his knife. "Let’s finish it, then…" he said weakly.
"What’s it gonna be, Anna. Are you leaving quietly or are we going to have to use…necessary force?"
Andrew searched the general area for anything useful and grabbed a plastic mug of still-hot tea. "Stay back," he growled.
Dan laughed. "Hey, James. The kid’s gonna kill is with liquid.
Andrew couldn’t help but smile cockily. "Yeah, bub. You’d better believe it." He jumped out of bed despite the pain and tossed the hot water into Dan’s eyes.
Dan screamed in shock and pain. "You little—"
"Watch out!" James shouted.
Andrew punched the blinded man in the gut, shoving him into James. The two fell into a heap of arms and legs.
"Get off me, idiot!" Dan hissed, shoving at James.
"Do you give up?" Andrew mocked.
Dan and James pulled themselves to their feet. They both looked angry, eyes blazing.
"You may have won this battle, Anna, but we’ll win the war. You’re wounded so you’ll have to sleep more often. I advise you to sleep with one eye open," Dan growled.
"Shoo, boys. The macho speech is finished, I think your egos will be hurt one way or the other," Andrew replied, his arms crossed over his chest.
The two hurried out. When Andrew was positive they were gone, he sank back down onto the bed. "Oh, man… What’ve I gotten into?" He lay down, closing his eyes. "Perfect, Anna."
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Sam returned home to find Andrew sprawled across the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He glanced over, smiling weakly. "Hope you don’t mind that I spilled my tea…"
She looked down at the discolored stain then looked back up at him, wondering how she had gotten herself into this mess and seriously considering getting herself out of it.