Someone must be coming to help me. The locals, they live so close. They must have noticed the blood stains out there. Why is no one coming yet? If this happened in Bogotá I would already be discharged from hospital.  But this is Peru. Stay focused, don’t pass out, someone is coming. Peru but where exactly, what’s this tiny village called? Caja…Cajamerba… Cajamarca? Focus. What I can remember…what I can… is that it was a hot sunny day today. It’s still too hot. I remember… watching the sweat steaming off Diego’s back as he dragged me to this cave. Why was he dragging me? I need to sleep. No! Stay awake, they’re coming.

Jake tried to curl up to ease the pain in his stomach but his muscles declined the brain’s order. That burning pain wouldn’t back down; he assumed that a red hot iron had been sewn into his stomach. He could see a blacksmith smirking at him from the darker end of the cave. Jake was educated enough to know what these hallucinations meant. He was wishing not to be a smart teacher right now but one of the villagers. That case he could play along with his mind’s tricks and have a conversation with the smirking blacksmith. Deciding to ignore his unwanted cave guest his hand reached for his stomach for a reality check. Wrong decision. Panic starts creeping into his mind now as the half dried blood covers his fingers. It must have been a few hours since Diego left him here. The blood is cooling down but still streaming down his sides.

Why is no one coming yet? This is not Bogotá, this is Caja…Cajadra… Diego! I knew you would come back. I need to…

Jake couldn’t force his eyes to stay open anymore. He felt his wounded body lifting of the ground as his hero grabbed him but when the cool air filled his lungs he managed to sneak a quick look at the blacksmith they left in the cave.

Look who’s laughing now?

Eyes back to shut position. Though Jake’s mind hasn’t given up on its tricks just yet. As he was being carried to safety he could feel the heat spreading from his stomach to his head. The smell of his own blood mixed with sweat kept dragging him back to reality alarming his system that something was wrong. It was hard for him to decide if that stomach pain was from his wound or if it was a reaction to this worried state of mind. If he could only open his eyes to see his surroundings his mind would have made its peace and Jake could be focusing only on the wound.

He would see orange lights coming from the little village houses that had to have either red or grey roofs. It seemed like this was an unwritten rule in the community. None of them had gates but animals were sleeping at the back of the buildings. The graphite coloured sky proudly showcased all the stars that normally hide behind city clouds. As the half Moon lit up the valley the outline of the nearby hills created a perfect illusion of guarding gates. It would have reminded him of those pictures he used to cut out from magazines to daydream about visiting Peru. Instead he was unconscious by now and being carried into one of the little houses. It had a grey roof.