Posted in Posted by Jane Austen

ok. Here you go Lewis!

 The gun was in his hand, but he didn’t remember shooting it. Then why did the person in front of him lay dead on the floor? He surveyed the body in front of him and searched for bullet holes and blood. Why was he holding a gun anyway? Why was he not panicking that there was a dead person in front of him?  Did he cause this persons death?

 Jake Mesh closed his eyes for not even two seconds before he whipped around to face the shadows. Was someone else in here? Where was here anyway? Why was here so icy cold? This coldness was the kind that seeped in through the skin and went farther than the bones. Maybe the coldness was affecting his thinking. Was that why he couldn’t remember who this person was, or what he was doing here, or if he was in danger? His brain felt so foggy, like icicles were forming in his head.

 Jake looked down at the steel weapon in his hand. Instinct kicked in. He dropped down to a crouch and darted to the nearest, darkest corner, away from the lone light blub next to the only door in the room. Something felt on fire. Searing, hot pain. He looked down at his camouflage-cargo pants and saw red oozing down the side. He was shot. How could he not remember that? He untucked his black shirt from his pants and pulled it over his head. Stopping the bleeding was first on his mind. He wasn’t sure which was the fastest way to die, freezing to death or bleeding to death. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to find out.

 Oh God, help me!

 Where did that come from? Maybe he was a religious man. If so, he shouldn’t be afraid to die. Though it didn’t feel right to be afraid, it felt like he had been trained not to.

 That didn’t stop him from jumping when a voice spoke directly in his ear.

 “356 we have lost your location, please report,” a masculine voice demanded.

 He darted his head from left to right. No one was there. Great, now he was hearing things. He wrapped his shirt around his leg tight enough for it to go numb and make him wish he hadn’t, that was when he knew it was tight enough. The room spun darker than it already was. Maybe he was getting delirious, maybe it was the dead body talking. But the dead didn’t talk, did it?

 Looking over to the body, he looked at the man’s gray face for the first time. He felt like he should know this man who looked to be about his own age. A single shiver ran down Jake’s bare spine. This man was his friend. What was his name?

 “356 we have lost your location, please report,” the same masculine voice repeated in his ear. “Jake? If you can hear me, please answer.”

 Jake brought his hand to his face and felt hard plastic in his ear. Drawing it out, he stared at it for second. A slight remembrance of sticking it in his ear at some point earlier that day came back to him, recalling it to be some sort of communication device. Jake lightly cleared his throat, testing to see if his voice still worked, he answered, keeping his voice low.

 “Hello?”

 “Jake, where in the world are you! We lost your location and thought you were down.”

 The voice sounded familiar. Where had he heard that voice?

 “I don’t know where I am. Who are you?”

 “Jake that’s not funny,” the voice warned.

 “I’m so cold,” He was loosing more blood by the second.

 “Cold? Jake its 102 degrees out-...Jake get out of there now.” the voice hardened. “If you want to live, get out.”

 “I don’t know how.” 

~ Jane Austen ~