Bayou Remedy

Part 34

Kisin shivered into the dew-drenched morning, the forest eerily silent around them as pre-dawn light filtered through the dense canopy above. He wrapped him arms around himself, trying in vain to retain what little body heat he had left. All he wanted was to just return to him tent and the warm sleeping bag inside, but Emily had been insistent that he join her on her morning exploration. He sighed, she was so very stubborn at this age, nagging him as only a little sister could until he gave in to her demands. Suddenly, she froze mid-step and loudly whispered him name. He looked up, following her pointing finger as it directed his gaze to a small clearing to their left.

There, not twenty yards away stood a small pure white deer. Poised for flight, the deer's ears swiveled to catch the slightest sound as it stared unflinchingly in their direction. A twig snapped under Emily's weight as she took a step closer to the deer. Instantly, it fled, Emily in hot pursuit. "Emily! Don't chase it! It-"

Kisin blinked and suddenly he was back in Washington. Jim leaned over his hospital bed, a restraining hand keeping Kisin in the bed when otherwise he would have risen. "Easy now, Kisin. You've lost a lot of blood, its gonna take a bit to get back on your feet."

"What-" The lapping sensation against his legs was wrong. Looking down, he saw that he once more stood knee deep in the waters of the Louisiana swamp. Cool autumn-chilled wavelets slapped up against his bloodstained cargo pants as birds cawed discordantly in the distance. Reflexively, he jerked at his restraints, but the ties held fast to the gator poles upon which he was bound. He was trapped.

Reluctantly, Kisin raised his gaze to meet Beau's crazed one. As he did, he noticed the remnants of hundreds of ceramic coffee cups littering the floorboards at Beau's feet. He met Beau's eyes as the man held another cup up for Kisin's inspection. The man was grinning, but his tone was aggrieved cajoled Kisin. "Come on, Professor. All you have to do is tell me how to call it and all of this can stop. Don't make me do this. I don't want to break anymore cups."

Kisin remained mute as Beau raised the cup far above his head before smashing it against the baseboards to join the corpses of its fellows.

Kisin jerked awake to the sound of shattering pottery and foreign words spoken in a low vehement hiss. Instantly, pain spasmed across his chest and he groaned. The vibration of his own voice intensifying the fire of his misery. The foreign words cut off abruptly, an ominous silence filling the room.

Kisin turned his head to the side as a wave of nausea took him. He retched, pain slicing along his ribcage with every involuntary motion. Struggling to free himself from his encumberments, he reached the edge of the bed just as another wave of nausea hit him. He dry-heaved over the side, the sticks of the frame digging cruelly into his flesh as tears of agony blurred his vision. Dark spots obscured his vision as he fought to take a breath against the utter torment of his body. Everything hurt. He was cold, shaky. A faint sheen of sweat dampening his brow and he leaned his head against the sticks of the bed frame. Feverish. Sick. Painful.

A faint scuffing drew Kisin's attention away from his own misery. Shakily, he lifted his head towards the sound and froze, hardly draining to breathe.