Novel Jumper

Chapter Six

 After another half hour or so of walking, Lilia started to become short of breath. Connor moved much faster than she was accustomed to. She was struggling to keep up with him and was too embarrassed to ask him to slow down. I can do this. I can keep going, she tried to convince herself.

Almost imperceptibly, Lilia noticed Connor slowing his speed. Breathing came easier and she could focus on thoughts other than moving her feet forward at the correct speed.

"How'd you know to do that?" she demanded wonderingly.

"What?" Connor asked innocently.

"Slow down for me."

"I heard your breathing getting progressively more labored. I'm sorry, I should have been thinking. I suppose you're not used to the same sort of exercise that I am."

Lilia thought about her life on Earth. She enjoyed playing soccer with her siblings - Kasey played on a team - and was careful with what she ate so that she wouldn't be unhealthy - but vigorous exercise, especially the swordfighting and marches that Connor participated in routinely, was definitely not her style.

"No, not really."

They continued onward in silence.

"Connor?"

"Yes?"

"Where are we going to stay tonight?"

"In an inn, if we happen upon one along the way."

"What if we came across one right now?"

"You mean, would we stop or take our chances and keep going?"

"Yes."

"We would probably stop. You've been through a lot today."

Lilia was touched by his kindness, but felt compelled to point out, "So have you."

"True. But I've been through a lot in my life. I can take more."

How much more can you take? Lilia asked silently. How much more can be thrown at you before you shatter?

"You're only seventeen and you've already survived so much," she commented out loud, trying to make the words respectful.

"What have you been through?" Connor asked curiously. "What do teenagers of your world have to deal with?"

Lilia pondered before answering. "Like I said, I'm extremely lucky in my life situation compared to many. Nothing of note has really happened to me. Well - no, it's nothing, compared to what happened to you."

"What?" Connor asked curiously.

Lilia sighed. "When I was six, I was attacked by a dog. A pit bull, a puppy. It tore up my left forearm pretty badly and clawed my stomach. I lost a lot of blood and would have died if my older brother hadn't glanced out of his bedroom window, saw me, and called for my mother. It took a lot of therapy to keep me from going catatonic whenever we passed a dog on the street."

"I assume you have scars?"

Lilia rolled up her left sleeve to reveal the bumpy mess of white scars dripping off of her shoulder. Then she raised the hem of her shirt slightly to show the same scar pattern, albeit somewhat neater from the arrangement of the claws of the dog, on her stomach.

Connor whistled in disbelievement at the scars. "Wow."

"Yeah." It was not a memory that Lilia ever liked revisiting. "But like I said, it's nothing compared to what's happened to you."