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The first thing she sees is her hands. They’re bound in front of her face with a heavy, dirty rope. The first thing she feels on the other hand is the hay poking her face, itchy and irritating. As Coraline tries to roll even a little her head spills. The pinpoints of light coming through the dilapidated roof burn her eyes and make her head pound.
“You woke up… I didn’t think you would…” The lanky teen above her looks down with bulging dark eyes. “You were like that sleepin’ chick from the Disney flick.” His accent was thick, so thick she almost couldn’t make heads or tails of it in her disoriented state. “You’re real pretty.” She got that last part.
“Who?... who the hell–”
“No, no, no… my ma don’t like swearing… shhh…” His hand moves towards her and she tenses.
“Why?... where?” God it hurts to think.
“You and that Brit with the fancy dressing was sniffin’ around. Couldn’t have that.” The Brit?... John… Dad. “Ma’s taken care of him but said I can keep ya for a while, like my light bugs. She makes her eyes focus. There were jars full of dragonflies, half alive, half dead… half flying around the corpses of their fellow bugs, desperate. Bile rises in her throat. She rolls in time to vomit all over the man’s shoes. He jumps back, laughing. “You’re so gross. Ma was right about that… girl’s don’t keep as good.” For a moment she lets her eyes close but she hears the vibration of him walking away for a moment before returning. Peaking her eyes open she sees the dull glint of a rusted hatchet. “Wish you’d kept…”
There’s a loud bang, making her eyes clench again. The old floor creaked with the thud of the young man falling dead. Coraline felt someone shift her, making her whine.
“Shhhh… I got you.” Chas said quietly, using his swiss army knife to cut her rope, getting that clean off before pulling her into his lap. “Damn it…” She winced, now becoming aware of the pain in her head as it’s touched. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” Coraline focused on the texture in her hair, sticky and wet… she couldn’t see the red. “Come on, baby…” Chas picks her up, her tiny frame nothing to him.
“Where’s Dad?...” She asks quietly, it’s the first time he’s heard her soft voice since finding her, it was hoarse now.
“He’s coming, just wrapping things up.” Chas sat her in the back of his cap, getting a better look at her head and putting pressure on it. “Let me see your eyes, baby.” Her pupils were different sizes entirely, he frowned with worry.
“Hurts…”
“I know…” Chas watched the farmhouse anxiously.
Finally he sees smoak and flames coming from the back off the house and sees his friend rush out the front, coughing and gasping for a moment.
“John!” Chas demands, his worried dad/uncle voice coming out. He needed John in the car now . The man does respond forthwith, breaking into a sprint to the cab.
“Oh, luv…” He mumbles, getting a look at her head and the blood matted in her hair. She picks then to lose her stomach again, just nearly missing both men’s shoes. “Oh shite…”
“Hospidal.” It wasn’t a question but John was in agreement either way, hopping in the back, cleaning up his child’s face with the cuff of his sleeve.
“Hang in there, luv…” She whines, pressing into John’s chest like years ago when she’d come down with the flu. “You’re okay…” She was definitely not, with rope burns on her wrists and a gash in her head.
“It hurts…” John layed her half in his lap, cradling her.
“I know, luv, breath deep for me… just breathe.” Being in the sticks the nearest hospital was a good hour away and her damn head was still bleeding. He pressed on the bandage Chas had wrapped around her head on, putting more pressure on it. “Come on… let me hear you’re voice now.”
“M’tired, Daddy…” He swallowed hard, she hadn’t called him that since age seven.
“You can sleep later… don’t wanna leave Uncle Chas and I bored on this little ride, now do ya?” John forced a smile harder than he had in a long time, doesn’t think he’s ever cared enough to. “Just wait on that nap, yeah?” She nods lazily.
Chas hits the gas.