I looked away from Lucas and back at my savior for a bit while rubbing the jacket I still had wrapped around my arm. The pain had somewhat subsided, but it still stung. The bleeding almost completely stopped, but it was probably best to leave the jacket covering it for a bit longer.
"How could someone be so tough?" I muttered to myself without meaning to while comparing my arm injury to his.
I would have succumbed to the pain and given up in seconds.
I had to admit it to myself—I was somewhat obsessed with the guy. How was he so unafraid of death? How was he able to deal with the pain of a limb being cut off? I couldn't help but shudder as vivid images flashed through my mind of that day, Christmas ten years ago.
"Why am I cursed to remember perfectly?"
To push it out of my mind, I played the man saving me from the goblin over and over in my head. I endlessly watched my savior sacrifice his arm to save my life in great detail. Eventually, I ran the image through my mind until any thoughts of that day were temporarily erased. As always, even if gruesome, I would rather exalt something meaningless to me to play down the remembrance of what mattered the most.
Obsession—it was a problem of mine, but it was also my greatest asset. While, due to hyperthymesia, I couldn't forget what I wanted to forget, I could at least suppress bad memories by creating a memory of greater value, even if only temporarily. I just replayed something in my mind over and over, tricking myself into overvaluing it and overshadowing the truly bad memories. The form of my self-trickery just so happened to manifest in the form of creating a savior. Then, when otherwise my mind would have wandered and I would have thought of the past, I just focused all my thoughts on the savior.
I slapped myself to stop any more wandering thoughts, forcing myself to smile and approach my group. I needed to prioritize myself first to survive. Screw saviors for now—thoughts about saviors should be reserved for when my mind begins drifting too far.
My group.
My group.
Survival…
My group—they looked interesting, to say it mildly.
After witnessing all of that, the only one of them who seemed nervous was the girl who craned her neck from left to right and twiddled her thumbs. Other than that, they didn't seem too taken aback. No rapid shaking, no nonsensical questioning of what was going on. They just stood in a semi-circle quietly studying their surroundings while most likely also studying each other. Though none of them dared to utter a word aloud.
I joined their weird semi-circle and waited for someone, anyone, to speak. I glanced at the tall guy with wavy dark hair who was so engrossed in observing his own tattoo that he didn't even notice me. I probably wouldn't talk at all. The fact that he was wearing all black didn't help his case.
I looked toward a big, burly man who twiddled his mustache while staring off into the forest. He was wearing jean overalls and a flannel, which made him look like a stereotypical lumberjack.
Suddenly, a butterfly floated by, and, like a praying mantis, he locked onto it with utmost seriousness and tracked it until it was too far gone to be seen. Something about this man just screamed idiot. Even if he offered, I didn't necessarily want him leading us.
I looked at the remaining guy, who was quite handsome and constantly tried to fix his short brown hair and straighten his designer jacket. After observing him and where his attention was drawn, it was obvious he was more concerned about women than figuring out what the hell was going on. He wasn't taking this seriously at all, was he? Did he forget he'd just gotten kidnapped?
The final member of the group was the short girl who gave every indication of being nervous. Yet, she seemed to be the most capable, as she quietly glanced at each one of us and then the direction we'd be heading. Although I doubted she would have the audacity to take charge.
After assessing that none were fit to lead, I still waited in hopes that my initial assessment might be wrong. Eventually, a minute passed, and still not a single word had been spoken.
Welp, someone had to bite the bullet.
It looked like organization and cooperation were up to me. I guess I needed to have somewhat of a leadership role pre-established if the need to upend Lucas ever arose. Because, based on what I'd seen, Lucas probably held some ideas in his mind that I would vehemently disagree with.
My only gripe with him so far was his unnecessarily hasty decision-making and seemingly random method of assorting us. We definitely had time to strategize more, yet he decided to split us up and scout the land only an hour after being summoned. I wouldn't have been surprised if many died or just got plain lost. Well, at least he had enough sense not to completely abandon the injured man—that would've put everybody on edge and made him seem tyrannical. I doubted any of us would've listened to him then.
"Seeing as no one is talking, I'll take charge if there are no objections," I reluctantly spoke, still somewhat hoping someone would interject and take this job from me.
"..."
Seriously, this was embarrassing. No idea how that guy was able to confidently stand up in front of all forty-nine of us. Someone truly had to be off to be able to lead strangers.
But really? No objections? I would have to be the leader. I didn't know if I had the mental capacity to be a leader, especially not at this moment, but I also would rather not die, and none of those people seemed more capable than I.
Time to start the icebreakers… Shit…
"We should introduce ourselves." I put a hand on my chest and was suddenly reminded I wasn't wearing a shirt.
This was embarrassing! Why was it so warm in December?!
"I'm Axel Hart," I continued, doing my best to hide my sudden realization. "I'm twenty-two years old, and before this, I worked as an IT assistant for a software development company. I didn't have much experience outdoors, but I knew some of the basics from when I went camping as a kid with my dad."
IT assistance for a tech company might have seemed like a useless job, but you'd be surprised how many people knew how to code but were absolutely clueless when a problem on their PC emerged. One time, I got called when someone accidentally unplugged their monitor and thought their entire desktop had broken because the screen "wouldn't turn on." People who knew how to code seemed to only know how to code sometimes. I guessed that was what happened when you dedicated your life to developing one skill. I also helped with many other reasonable cases, but it was the dumb and trivial things that stood out.
After my introduction, I nodded my head to show I was done speaking, then calmly looked over the others and waited for someone to follow after me. Thankfully, the sole girl in our group shyly raised her hand.
"Um, I'm Claire Thompson…"
Yes! It seemed like talking first was a good idea to get the others to speak.
Surprisingly, though, the first one to speak was the shy girl whose face was half hidden by her bushy brown hair. She wore a zebra-striped long-sleeved shirt and egg-white corduroy pants.
I guess she must have had confidence that betrayed her appearance.
But… was that it?
"Um, I um, am nineteen and um... am... um... ummm... a college student." Oh no. "And umm… also on the… umm… American Olympic archery team… umm. T-that's it." She stuttered over almost every word.
Oh god. She was way too scared. I swore she didn't look this spooked before she started speaking. Wait… was this not fear of our situation, but social anxiety? What the hell? How did she speak before the other three guys in our group? However, if we found or made a bow, I guessed we knew who to give it to. She seemed to have pretty developed shoulder muscles, so I doubt she'd be lying.
To spare her from the spotlight any longer, I gestured at the big buff guy to go next. Thankfully, he understood.
"I'm Connor Manney and didn't do much before this," he said as he twirled his obnoxious mustache. "My parents forced me to do Boy Scouts up until I became an Eagle Scout."
Wait, wait, wait... then why were you not in the hunting group? Was that not where kids were trained how to live outdoors and hands-on?
He continued, unconcerned at the weird look I gave him.
"I don't have much experience fighting," he said. "But, I'm good at hunting, and I am knowledgeable about what is edible and what isn't."
Are you dumb? Why the hell were you with us? Someone, please, anyone, call him out! No? None of us? I mean, I wasn't gonna do it. Seriously, one of you three, call this guy out. Some poor girl with little experience was forced to lead the hunting/gathering group, and you got to do scouting duty with us. What the hell!
"I'm Ryon!..." Yup, I guess we were letting Connor get away with it. "Twenty-one, single, and before this, I worked as a volunteer firefighter." He said it with such confidence that I almost forgot he refused to speak until after the meek girl. Even more, he hadn't had enough confidence to question the dude about why he didn't lead the hunting group.
Heuh… Please let this all just be a bad nightmare.
First I was kidnapped, then my arm was sliced by some unknown means, then I had to sacrifice my shirt to try and stop the bleeding, almost died, my savior sacrificed a limb to save me, and now I was being made to lead a ragtag group in the middle of nowhere while one of them seemed too scared to take a step without her hand being held and the other three looked unconcerned that they had all just been kidnapped into this bizarre situation!
I just wanted a damned shirt!
I stared at the last group member who'd been completely ignoring us, too engrossed in admiring his tattoo. But, for some reason, he felt familiar. Like he was a good friend, but also scary. Maybe he was my friend in the past, and I had forgotten. I mean, I didn't forget faces. The only way I would was if it had to do with this memory fragment stuff. I guess I'd remember when I got my memories back. But seriously... why in the hell had he been staring at his tattoo since we first grouped up? Pay attention!
Next, next! Please don't make me speak up. You knew you were next; you were the last one! Oh god, was he an edgelord? Did he want to be all mysterious?!
"And you?" I tried to sound cool and calm.
"...Zayn Gatlin."
And…
Come on, there had to be more. Please.
No! Don't just go back to observing your tattoo! Talk!
I took it back—no way had I been able to make friends with this guy in my past life. That task seemed nigh impossible!