Eliona's War 1: Hesitant Healer

Chapter 7

The cardboard box wouldn't fit through the door.

Seth tried kicking it, but it only got stuck halfway through the door frame. So he leaned against it, giving it a good shove with all his body weight behind it. It moved an inch and then decided that was it. It wasn't going to move even if a hurricane rolled on by.

He stood back, and glared at the stupid box. The door tried to swing shut, but could only go so far with the obstruction in its way. It was a good thing no one was trying to get in or out of the apartment building, because he'd just managed to singlehandedly block the main entrance/exit of the entire place.

All he needed now was for the fire alarm to go off. Everyone would be trapped in the building and they'd all die. No, wait— there were fire escapes. Most people would probably survive, as long as they could figure out how to use those.

He sighed, rubbing at tired eyes. I should have used a smaller box.

That would have been the smart thing to do. Instead, he'd picked the biggest box he had and used it to hold all the other flattened boxes he'd used for moving. Now here he was, wondering why the apartment building couldn't have bothered installing a set of double doors so people didn't get things stuck.

Annoyed, he gave the box another kick. Not only was it entirely ineffective, it threw him off balance and he staggered, nearly falling flat on his face. The box sat there like an undefeated champion defending its hill.

That was when he heard the deep chuckle, followed by a low, raspy voice. "Having fun, kiddo?"

Instantly, he flushed red. Someone had been watching his sad efforts, a realization that filled him with horror. He unwillingly turned to see who his observer was.

If someone had taken a withered grandma and blended her with a street thug and a very tall female bodybuilder, they'd create someone that looked like the strange person now standing before him.

She towered at 6 feet, with broad shoulders and a solid frame that would have easily held a lot of muscle back in her prime. Now she was more bone than anything else, her skin shriveled and leathery with what had to be near 80 years of life. Her face bore more wrinkles than a prune, and her coarse gray hair clung around her head like steel wool.

He stared, completely stunned. Who on earth was this person?

Eyes blacker than night twinkled at him. The old woman—he wasn't about to call her a lady—bared her teeth in a grin.

"Want some help?"

Still staring, he wordlessly gave a nod. She strode forward, and he hastily moved out of the way.

Without a single shred of hesitation, she raised a foot and kicked the box, much like Seth had done. However, this time, the box never stood a chance against the might of an 80 year old woman. It blasted out of the door like a rocket, strewing cardboard in its wake like the rubble behind a tornado.

Seth's jaw dropped. The door swung shut, creaking weakly as it closed both him and the old woman inside the entrance.

She put a hand on her hip, and appeared rather satisfied with herself. "There we go. Just needed some healthy encouragement."

Encouragement? Healthy? It was more like a terrifying display of how she could singlehandedly smash a person's face in.

"Thanks," he muttered. While keeping one eye on her, he hurriedly shoved the door open and fled after the remains of his boxes.

He picked up the ones that had fallen free, shoved them back in the troublemaker of a box, and then began to drag it towards the recycling bin that sat alongside the apartment. It was heavy enough that he had to put in significant effort just to get it to move.