Saviors of Ysona Ch. 01

Dear readers! This is my first submission of what I have envisioned as a multi-chaptered epic fantasy! No smut at first here, but plenty to come! Also, this is the story of a journey, and not all of it is happy and sexy! Any feedback is appreciated, good and bad. I'm also in the market for a RELIABLE editor! Cheers - Favored

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I lay in the grass bleeding out. Past experiences led me to know with certainty that I was dying. I'd seen this same wound a few times before, and all three patients walked out of the hospital only a few days later. Getting to the ER quickly was key, as well as the application of a tourniquet and staunching the flow of blood. There were no Emergency Rooms in this place, I knew that for certain. There was no gauze, no IV bags of Lactated Ringers Solution, no attending Physician, no stitches, only me bleeding arterial blood till my brain ran out of oxygen and I slipped into a coma followed shortly by death. My head swam and my senses reeled. I remember pondering that this must be what people felt like when they were dying. A sense of calm overwhelmed me, and the pain from my wounds lessened. I felt the dew on the grass seeping into my shirt, the cool evening air making it glisten here and there as the sun set. I remember the pungent smell of blood mixing in with the earthy, musty aromas of the glade around me. I heard the weeping of the woman who crouched over me, her sweet smelling hair caressing my face and neck. I felt that I loved her.

We had met mere weeks ago, this exotic beauty and myself. And yet, I felt a strange mix of emotions towards this woman, most of which had to do with complete trust, love, and utter devotion. Feelings I knew were returned in kind. I almost laughed as I felt my consciousness fading. I guess that must be how two people felt when they knew they were the only two humans on the planet.

Perhaps I should back it up a little. My name is Josh, and for the longest time, I hated my life.

Groggily I sat up, clearing my eyes of sleep and freeing my tongue of the quicksand that was my mouth. Trying desperately to find moisture I smacked my mouth a few times, the vapors of booze and cigarettes making their way up through my abused lungs and throat. What a night that had been. I usually don't black out when I drink, but these past few weeks, or months, I've been getting somewhat carried away. When you have this much to forget, knowing your limit kinda goes out with the other garbage. It had been four years since she had left me, and after the first year, two therapists and ten grand out of pocket, I found that numbing everything with booze and women was much cheaper and ultimately more fun. At least the nightmares were fewer. I just wished that I didn't wake up feeling the same way every morning after; dreading life.

I sat on the edge of my bed blearily trying to remember the events after I had left O'Flannigans, the pub I frequented with some of my drinking chums. I thought that there had been a girl under my arm. Scratching my head and looking around with one eye squinting, I noticed the smaller form laying on the other side of my bed, wrapped up in my sheets, and snoring very softly. A shapely leg had managed to find its way out of the cotton sheets and I saw a mess of blonde hair strewn across the other pillow. So there had been a girl. 'Cool.' I shrugged to myself. Now how do I get rid of her without the usual bull shit? First there is breakfast, then starts the questions and 'Can I call you?' and 'This was fun, let's do it again'...and blah blah blah - get the fuck out.

It's not that I hate women. On the contrary, I LOVE women. I glanced at the sleeping minx next to me in bed and the litter of condom wrappers on the floor. Obviously I like women. I just can't trust them for shit. She'd ruined that for me. Not for the first time, I ground my teeth in anger and betrayal. I balled up my fist and ground it into my temple. Why couldn't I just forget!? Why do these memories have to plague me like this? She had been a blonde as well. The smell of her hair was more intoxicating than any drink I'd ever had. The feel of her neck as she leaned her head aside for me to kiss when I swept her up in my arms. The way she cradled her stomach when she was in her second trimester and was fully showing. The serenity in her eyes as she held our baby girl. And then she'd left me. Alone.

A single tear slid down my face. Four years wasn't enough time to forget. There was no amount of time long enough for me to forget. Or forgive.

The woman next to me stirred and I quickly wiped the tear from my face and stood up.

"Morning, handsome," came the inevitable sultry greeting from this most recent bar fly. "How's about a cup of coffee?" I heard the sheets being thrown back and I felt small smooth hands sliding around my waist caressing my abdomen with promises of more. I grabbed her hands and moved them aside as I stepped from the bed and into the bathroom.

"I'm gonna take a shower. Coffee and all that shit is in the Kitchen. Help yourself." In three steps I was in the bathroom and had the door shut before she could respond. 'Do us both a favor and leave before I'm out.' I thought, looking to the ceiling for answers.

Showered and dressed I made my way into the kitchen. Apparently this one was not psychic either because she sat in my button-up shirt from the previous evening, sipping a cup of coffee and eyeing me as if I was just the pastry to go with it. She appraised me in my work uniform and her eyes went up.

"Are you a Doctor? Oh my gawd! How hot are you right now in your scrubs!?" I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a mug from the cabinet.

"I'm a nurse actually." I murmured, and reached for the tea bags. As I made my tea and rummaged for breakfast, she chatted away about inane things. It was then, as this chick droned on and on about the free healthcare advice and female exams she wanted me to give her, I noticed something new about my wrist. Apparently it had been an epic evening, because I had went and got a tattoo! Around my wrist was a very intricate design, not unlike tribal tattoos, but this was much more intricate and tasteful I decided. There were parts that actually looked like letters or runes. Shrugging, I finished making my toast then turned and cut her off mid-sentence.

"This was fun, let's do it again sometime. I'll call you." I guess my delivery was slightly too monotone and robotic for her liking. Or maybe it was the way I stressed that I would call her, not the other way around. Three years, maybe it's time for some new material for 'lettin' em down easy.' I mused as she called me some names, swept up her stuff, dressed, and stormed out. I stared after her for several moments. She had been nice, actually. I'm sure if I cared to remember, the sex had probably been pretty good too. If only I had the capacity to care.

I sat down at the table and noticed the mail. She had been nice. She'd even gotten my mail for me. She deserved better. Numbly I combed through the pile. Sighing, I opened a few and nodded painfully, a headache slowly building at the base of my skull. Past due, past due, disconnection notice, collections, collections, Final notice. I was a popular man amongst the creditors. I was surprised I still had my car. Such that it was, the pile of crap barely ran anymore. What can I say, being an alcoholic can be expensive...

I locked up my apartment as I left for work. More out of habit than actually caring if someone decided to steal my shitty stuff. I walked down the hallway to the rear exit where I hoped my car was parked. Sometimes I made it all the way home, sometimes I parked it in the grass across the street. Taxis were for pussies. I was almost to the door when someone called my name. I turned to see the super walking my way with a dour expression.

"Oh, hey Joe! How's life man?" I liked Joe. He could hold his drink and he had been a good friend after...after all that shit went down four years back. Joe didn't look so friendly at the moment.

"You're late on rent, Josh. This is the fifth time in six months dude. I'm getting really tired of stickin' my neck out for you bro!"

I sidled up to the exit door and put my hands up pleadingly. "Look Joe, I get paid this Friday, the rental office is my first stop. C'mon man, you know me, I just got a lot goin on y'know?"

Joe shook his head and looked disappointed, almost sad. "Yea, Josh. You've had a whole lot of nothing goin' on. I saw another one leaving angry again this morning. When you gonna stop this man? Don't you think it's time to move on?"

I narrowed my eyes, all sense of comradery gone. "Yea Joe. Move on. Good idea. Why didn't I think of that?" I pushed my way out of the building, muttering "asshole" probably just loud enough for Joe to hear. Like I care, fuck him. He didn't even come out with me anymore. Some friend.

I spotted my Honda in the parking lot and I nodded to myself, slightly impressed. Nice work Josh! I looked around the car. No damage, doors all closed, windows up. I high fived myself mentally. You even got it between the lines! I got in and got my phone out to plug it into my car charger. It was then that I noticed 'Cindy' had left her number pulled up on my phone. She had even taken her picture blowing me a kiss. As I deleted it, I then noticed I was going to be late for work. I sighed and shrugged. Maybe my car wouldn't start and I could call off, go back inside, and sleep more.

I put the keys in the ignition and my P.O.S. started right up. 'Well fuck you too,' I thought. I pulled out of the lot and considered speeding to work in an effort to make it there on time. Then I realized I didn't give a shit. Plus I had drugs on me. Oh yea, I forgot to mention. I'm addicted to pain pills. Convenient me being a nurse and all, I have plenty of access to all sorts of small round pain killing goodies. Downers are my thing. They do almost as good of a job as alcohol and they allow me to still function during the day so I can work a job and keep myself in the finer things in life to which I am accustomed. Booze. Smokes. More pills.

I dug around in my console and found a bottle. Switching my eyes back to the road I held the orange and white bottle to my ear, shaking it slightly. The sound alerted me that I was getting low. That explains the blacking out last night, I chuckled to myself. When in Rome. I spun open the lid with one hand, a much practiced maneuver, and upended the pill bottle to my mouth, grabbing two larger ones and letting the few others slide back for later. I needed to refill my stash apparently. Well at least my car started, it would get me where I needed to go.

Janet was a bitch. She had been in nursing school with me. She was smart, driven, funny, and about 150 pounds overweight. About a year ago, she had come out with me after work for a few drinks and when she came onto me later that night, I turned her down. Ever since, she had hated me with a burning passion. It probably didn't help that I laughed in her face and told her she may have a chance after she barfed up both the Olson twins. Or maybe it was because I then puked in her lap. Maybe both. Either way, she was the charge nurse on my floor, and she enjoyed making my life hell. I made it to work only twenty minutes late. I, for one, was actually impressed. The pills I had taken, whatever they were, had taken effect on the elevator up to my floor, and as I walked the hall preparing for rounds, I felt that warm wave of numbness wash over me. 'Let's go save some lives,' I thought joylessly. Then there was Janet.

"Nice of you to join us, Joshua." She knew I hated that. "Five day rotation, this is the fifth day in a row that you are late! What happened this time? Car not start? Joshua?" I giggled to myself. Car started fine. Car always started. Stupid Car. I sighed heavily and opened my mouth to respond, searching for a new excuse to get this monkey - I sized up Janet's mass - Three-hundred-pound monkey, off my back. Janet stopped me with an upraised palm. "Save it for HR, I notified them fifteen minutes ago. You'll be lucky to have your job tomorrow, Joshua!"

I banged two of the chicks in HR last year. If I got one of them I'd be golden. My muddled brain came up with some vague reply and I set about my morning routine. Med pass, Med pass, med pass, smoke break, pills and coffee. Time for some treatments. Then came the golden hour. Lunch time meds! Trays full of bland NAS hospital food came up from dietary on their big carts and half the floor went to lunch. I always volunteered to pass Lunch meds, because with half the nurses gone and the dietary staff bustling about, it was a perfect time for me to swipe my pain killing friends.

After six rooms, I already had a decent pile in my scrubs pocket. I was careful. One or two pills from each room, no more than one a patient, and it was a good system. I don't know why I got greedy that day. I still think that it's the Car's fault. Wherever the blame may lay, it just so happened that Janet walked in on me counting out my haul into my prescription bottle in the sterile supply across from the nurse's station. Apparently I swiped more than one or two from someone's room, and the patient's family was there, one being an actual nurse. She noticed the discrepancy and reported the med error. Janet found me separating the Vicodin from the Xanax, and I must sadly report that there was a rather large Percocet in my teeth preparing to meet its maker as I turned, quite innocently, to meet her astonished gaze.

Driving home I mused on how likely I was to lose my nursing license on top of the job I had just been fired from. Shit, what a day. I looked at the clock. It was only two in the afternoon. I bet my dealer wasn't even awake yet. My head throbbed. SHIT! How was I going to fix this? I needed to level out before trying to tackle this new set of problems. In my haze I realized that I should have an emergency stash that I always hid under my seat in a little tear in the carpet. I pulled out onto the main drag towards home and then began to rummage under my seat for my tiny medicinal savior. Buggering carpet wouldn't quite come undone from the last time I folded it back in over the tiny pill baggy. This will take two hands. I got a good look at the road, wedged my knee under the wheel, and dove in. I freed the carpet, dislodged the baggy and managed to open it and dump my tiny white prize into my hand! Success! I was in the process of examining my catch when I heard the noise. I turned back to the road to see that I had steered into oncoming traffic and a large suburban was barreling down on top of me.

Statistically speaking, a two-door Honda civic has very little chance of winning a game of chicken against the three-quarter-ton-axle Chevy suburban. As I stared numbly at the grill of the oncoming vehicle, I silently cursed at myself for lowering the front of my car. What was the point? Lower profile in my P.O.S. rice burner? Doesn't really matter now though. The suburban rolled up and over my hood and its massive silver bumper came through my windshield at my face. A white light screamed in at me, then I realized it was me screaming, mixed with the sound of the horn and engine of the giant car that was basically on top of me. I felt myself die. All sensations of sound and light dimmed. Time seemed to pass at a snail's pace. Even slower. A rhythmic pounding, like that of a heartbeat was thrumming slower and slower. If my eyes were open, I couldn't see anything. All around me was black. I was floating in space and time. The massive *bump bump* finally came to an end. Then I fell.

Two things occurred to me almost at the same time. I was outside. This much was clear. I could hear crickets and small frogs singing their nightly songs. It was a peaceful sound, not the droning of a swamp with large bull frogs and swarms of biting insects, but the higher pitched chirping you hear in light wooded areas with tons of tree frogs and katydids. I hadn't heard that noise since I was a kid, visiting family on their farm in the country. The peacefulness did not extend to my head, which felt like it had just met the business end of a full sized SUV. Which brought on the second, stark realization. I was down from my buzz. Completely. Fuck.

I opened my eyes. More fuck. I was obviously dead.

I found myself, incredulously, lying on my back in a small clearing in a birch forest. It was dawn, or dusk, I wasn't quite sure. The warmth in the air led me to believe it was the latter, just after sundown, right before the chill of a spring evening. My laughter filled the small clearing. I stood up still chortling. Lifting my head I shouted to the sky "I am in the wrong place! This is obviously Heaven and you've got me confused with someone else! HAHA FUCKERS!" I was filled with giddy glee for some reason as I flipped the bird to the sky. Happy accident? I knew for sure that there was some bible thumper getting ass raped by demons right now, where I should have been. So this was the afterlife? Not bad, I mused. A bit devoid of company. As I brushed myself off while looking around, I noted that my scrubs felt awfully stiff. Looking down I realized why. My work attire had been completely replaced with some sort of leather outfit.

Not the shiny black leather you see rockers wearing on MTV, or the Davy Crockett deerskins with fringe and feathers. This was unlike anything I'd ever seen before, let alone worn. It was comfortable, dark green, almost black in some places, and it was more comfortable than most of my outfits at home. When I moved about experimentally, it gently sighed with my movements, belying the strength I felt that it had. This reminded me of...armor? Shaking my head I looked up from this most recent of puzzles to see that I was not alone in the clearing.

She stood at the edge of the clearing, no more than ten yards away, brandishing a stick in my general direction and yelling gibberish. She was disheveled looking. Her dark brown and red hair was disheveled, and her eyes were frantic. She kept motioning at me with her stick in what I decided was definitely an aggressive fashion. I studied her a bit more as her repeated noises continued to blend into the general background haze of my completely bewildered consciousness. She was tan. A bit on the short side, maybe two or three inches over five feet tall. She looked like she was either very muscular in her legs and arms, or that she was inclined to being curvaceous. Her chest, heaving with exertion or excitement, was quite generous I must say, and I felt myself lost in this beauty's ample cleavage that shone with a sheen of sweat. Her face was something to behold. She possessed striking features. A strong jaw line, defined cheekbones, and dark brown eyes that captured me in an instant. She was dressed very similar to myself, only her dark green leathers managed to look far more feminine, baring her midriff, and decidedly more of her muscled calves and thighs.

"You're fuckin hot!" I thought. At least I had meant to think it. Only when I realized that she had immediately stopped and was staring at me with such a look of incredulity yet comprehension that I realized I had blurted it aloud. I snorted quietly to myself. Very smooth, Casanova.

She slowly took a few steps out from the clearings edge, never taking her eyes off me, and the stick, which I now realized was more of a staff, never wavering from were she had it centered on my left eye. She gathered herself up and tried again, this time slower, but no less vehement. "Quién eres y dónde diablos estamos?" The jumble of words left her lips and fell onto my ears. Spanish, my muddled head informed me. I had known Spanish, once upon a time, but now her words fell on my ears as unintelligible. Though I didn't understand her words, I knew she wanted to know the same thing that was on my mind. She gulped a few times and tried again.