Time Salvager (Time Salvager #1)(63)
The person, human by the looks of it, wearing black clothes splotched by brown sludge, with a face and hair to match, gasped at the wrist beam. He whimpered. Elise then realized that he was a young scrawny boy, though she couldn’t be sure about his age. If he was living out in the wilds here, he could just be severely malnourished. He was staring wide-eyed at her hand. Elise looked down at her arm and realized that he recognized the weapon. The split second that she had taken her eyes off of him, he took off.
“Wait,” she called, taking off after him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to point that at you.”
She chased him, not completely sure why she was doing this. Her better senses were telling her to treat the kid like a feral animal and get out of his hunting ground as fast as possible. He knew the terrain and could be dangerous. For all she knew, he could be a cannibal. The possibilities and terrors of this place were endless.
Still, Elise chased the boy. Up a small hill, through several slanted hallways, down a hole in a wall, and down the side of the building. He was quick, darting back and forth around the various objects that protruded from the ground. If he hadn’t been so busy zigzagging back and forth, she would have lost him long ago. That was when she realized that he was trying to make himself a hard target so she couldn’t shoot him.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Come on, kid, stop!”
Surprisingly, she got the child’s attention. He slowed and looked back at her. He wasn’t, however, watching where he was going. He tripped over a windowsill and fell into a building. She heard a high-pitched squeak followed by a thunk and a cry of pain.
Elise ran up to the square hole and peered over the edge. Unfortunately for the boy, he had fallen into a large room that must have been at least a two-story drop. He was lying on the floor, holding his knee, and whimpering like a wounded animal. Her heart reached out to him; he couldn’t have been more than ten or twelve, judging by his scrawny little frame. And this was all her fault.
Determined to help, Elise took the long route down to the child, through a lower-level window, past a flooded hallway, and up through a back stairwell, before she found a way to his room. It took nearly twenty minutes, but he was still holding his knee when she, sweaty and exhausted, with no idea how to get out of here, found him. The boy crawled to the corner, quivering with eyes wide.
“It’s all right, buddy,” she said, keeping her right arm behind her back and trying to soothe him like she would her dog. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
It took her five minutes to close that distance between them. Finally, she got within arm’s distance and reached out to check on his knee, though she could tell by the swelling that it was definitely broken. Just as her hands touched his leg, the boy slashed out with a knife in his hand.
“Ow, you little brat!” she squawked, pulling back.
He succeeded in nicking her forearm, giving her a lovely gash. It was good thing she had quick reflexes, or it could have been a lot worse. Then she remembered that he had busted his knee because of her. Again, she approached cautiously, making what she hoped were reassuring gestures, though this time, she watched for his arm. When he tried to slash her again, she caught his wrist.
“Stop it!” she scolded.
He tried to strike her with his other arm. The two struggled for a few seconds.
“I mean it!”
He tried to kick her with his broken leg and howled when it connected with her shins. They both cried out in pain. Elise had babysat hundreds of times, and the best way to handle a child acting up was to let him wear himself out. However, this child had a knife in his hand and she didn’t have the time, so she gave him one measured look and then slapped him across the face.
She shook her finger at him. “I said stop it! Now stay still.”
The child was so stunned he dropped his knife. Elise kicked it aside and began to check his leg. It was definitely broken, but didn’t seem like a compound break. He should recover from this if he kept his weight off.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, motioning for him to stay. Not like he could move much anyway.
In a few minutes, she returned with a few pieces of wood and cloth she had found in an old apartment and fixed a small splint around his leg. Then she gave him the leg of a table to use as a walking stick.
“That’s the best I can do for now,” she said, helping him up. “Where are your parents?”
He shook his head.
“All righty, then, guess we’re stuck with each other for a bit.”
Finding a way out of the building proved to be their next challenge. They boy could hardly walk, let alone climb, jump, or drop down from a ledge. They began to wander the rooms, making their way toward ground level. Several times, she had to push him up onto a ledge. She half-expected him to try to run off every time they got a few meters apart, but was pleased to find that he waited for her every time. Either he had come to trust her, or he realized that she was his best way of getting out of this sideways maze. By the time they escaped the building, the sun was beginning to set. They must have spent the entire day in the damn building.
“At least we’re out now,” she said with forced cheerfulness.
Her stomach spasmed and she hunched over. She hadn’t eaten in almost two days. At least helping the kid had gotten her mind off food, but now her hunger was nearly debilitating. The child must have heard her stomach growl. He pointed at her, and then rubbed his own belly.