Riley's Journey (21 page)

It took little imagination to figure out that he had been waiting for Nathan to appear. The man was huge and powerfully built! This was not one of the younger, less seasoned warriors who were currently following his carefully laid tracks. This man had the look of someone who knew exactly what Nathan would do and when, and had easily found him. Nathan’s optimistic expectations sank sharply. Grimacing from the intense pain radiating from the wound, he crouched, knife in hand, preparing to do battle. Dizziness assailed him as blood streamed in an ever-increasing flow from the wound.

Smiling even wider, the attacker moved closer, his eyes glistening with ill-concealed mockery, secure in the knowledge of his superior strength and skill. Gritting his teeth, Nathan waited, knees flexed, weight on the balls of his feet. The attacker paused, flicking his blade from hand to hand, tempting Nathan to make the first move. Grinning back, Nathan jeered. “Too old for that trick. Come on over, you pig-shit! Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The warrior stopped, considering, grudging respect evident on his face. No doubt, he was unused to defiance. It proved an interesting concept—but only for a moment. Ducking his head, he charged like an enraged bull, intent on bowling Nathan over. Nathan easily sidestepped, slashing a red weal across the goon’s ribs, pearls of blood oozing up immediately from the gash. Whirling, the bigger man closed in again, knives flashing. Gone was the sneer he sported earlier, replaced by malevolent rage brought on by Nathan’s unexpected skill. Slashing and ripping, his sheer weight alone forced Nathan back. Desperately, Nathan countered the blows, hampered by the use of only one arm and weakened from blood loss. The attacker took the advantage, handling his blades easily, his expertise with the knives not limited by his respect for life. There would be no taking prisoners—this fight was to the death.

Nathan feinted to the right, hacking the other’s arm and knocking one blade to the ground. The odds were a little more even. The brute snarled, his teeth filed to sharp points, foul breath reeking with the stench of untreated sewage. His narrowed eyes gleamed with hatred, promising a long and painful death. Nathan deflected another blow, only to falter as the thug landed a well-placed strike to his left skull area. Bleeding from numerous small cuts and nicks, and blood clouding his vision, Nathan blindly fought on, knowing full well there was no other choice. He couldn’t bear to think of Riley being left alone—he couldn’t let that happen! Harder and harder the brute drove at him, until, finally, Nathan fell one last time. Crowing with glee, the brute wrapped one beefy arm around Nathan’s neck, forcing his head down.

* * *

Demon went crazy, barking and fighting to get away. He dragged Riley into the open and thrashed about wildly. Riley froze in disbelief. Nathan was down, held fast by a huge combatant, and by the look of things, wouldn’t last even a few minutes longer. Dropping Demon’s leash, she waved him on, screaming in fear. “
Go, Demon, sic! Get him, Dog! Kill!
”

True to his name, the huge dog lunged through the air, howling in fury, his giant maw gaping as he prepared to strike. Landing on the attacker’s back, he clamped down on the soft tissue of the man’s nape and hung on. The brute screamed, trying to dislodge the dog, but Demon only clamped down harder. The dog brutalized the screaming man, ripping and tearing, breaking limbs and moving so fast, Riley was barely able to track his movements. The victim somehow managed to escape a few feet, only to be brought down again. Once more, Demon went for the man’s throat, this time ripping the soft underside of his neck. The man screamed once in agony, gurgling as blood welled up, drowning in his own secretions. Demon continued to maul the body, ripping and slashing and tearing. Riley rushed to stop the dog, horrified by his utter savagery.

“
Demon!”
” She cried. “
Stop—Stop now!
”

“No,” Nathan voice halted her. “No, let him finish. Let them think he was killed by a wild animal. We need them to think that. Let him finish!”

Riley turned away, sickened by the gore and unwilling to watch any further. She could hear every sound the dog made as he continued to rip apart the body, shaking it like a broken doll, growling in rage and victorious from the kill. Rushing to Nathan’s side, she knelt down, carefully examining his many injuries. Though his face was covered by blood, he smiled, reaching up and smoothing a lock of hair from her tear-streaked countenance.

“I told you to stay in the shelter,” he scolded her weakly.

“Oh, shut up,” she wailed angrily. “If I had, you’d be dead by now.”

“No, really!” he chuckled softly. “I was just letting him think he had the best of me, then I was going to make my move.” He soothed her with a gentle caress.

“And what move was that? Showing him how well you could make flowers grow after we planted you?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

The terrible noises from Demon finally ceased. Refusing to look behind her, Riley concentrated on Nathan, wiping blood from his eyes and helping him to drink, her hands shaking with uncontrolled emotion.

“We have to get back to the shelter,” Nathan warned. “I don’t know how many others might be close by.” Riley nodded, reaching down to help him up.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.” Fear clutched her in the pit of her stomach. “We need to get the arrow out and pad the wound.”

“That’ll have to wait ‘til later. We don’t have that kind of time right now.”

“Can you walk?”

Grimacing, Nathan fought to stand, weaving uncertainly. “I have to, but I’m pretty certain I’ll need your help.”

“Maybe we can fix a travois and Demon can drag you,” she voiced hopefully.

“He might if we had time, but they’ll be here soon and it just isn’t possible right now.” He reached across her shoulders, bracing himself. “Demon!” he instructed the dog. “Home!” The dog moved ahead, glancing over his flank, making sure they followed.

Blood and gore still covered Demon’s jaws and red slashes marked his white chest, stark reminders of the events of a few moments ago. Although her mind dictated otherwise, Riley couldn’t help but feel relief. “Good dog,” Riley praised him, “you were a good boy.” A small wag of his tail was Demon’s only acknowledgment; his focus was totally on the task at hand—leading them home.

Night was swiftly falling and it was imperative they return to the safety of the shelter. The wind moaned eerily through the tree tops, forlorn and haunting, a harbinger of things to come. Animal roars and distant howls rent the silence, the night hunters were drawn by the smell of blood on the wind. Riley’s skin prickled, envisioning them watching and waiting, biding their time for the right moment to attack. Branches rustled a short distance away as though some creature kept pace with their movements. Demon growled a warning, his head roving back and forth as he checked for scent. Riley shivered uncontrollably, her imagination fraught with terror. Fearfully, her eyes strained the dark, praying that nothing would materialize—afraid she would overlook the obvious if it didn’t. Her little group was so alone in this terrifying world.

Burdened by Nathan’s weight, travel was slow and she was finding it harder with every step to keep him upright. Stumbling and tripping awkwardly, he almost brought them both tumbling down more than once. He needed medical attention and soon, and she just didn’t have the training necessary to take care of him. Her medical training only included CPR and unless he went into cardiac arrest, she was limited in what she knew how to do. The arrow would have to come out and she cringed at the thought, but he would bleed to death if she didn’t try.

Nathan stumbled and fell, dropping heavily to the ground. “I don’t think I can go any further,” he struggled for breath.

“Get up!” Riley urged, pulling at him. “Get up now! We’re almost there. It’s just a little farther. Come on, damn you, we’re almost there!”

Demon whined, nudging Nathan and nipping at his feet. Nathan waved him away but the dog refused to budge. Groaning, Nathan rested for a few minutes, but ultimately allowed Riley to help him up. “If I can’t make it, you and Demon need to go on without me.”

“Forget that! We aren’t leaving you—are we, Demon?” She wrapped Nathan’s arm over her shoulder and practically dragged him along, cursing heartily in anger and frustration, allowing adrenalin to build. She’d carry him if she had to. She wasn’t one of those petite, feminine little things and, for once in her life, she was thankful.

As if reading her mind, Nathan commented, his voice exhausted and thin, “I love big strong women who make me feel helpless—and talk dirty!”

“Oh, for God’s sake! You
are
helpless, you dork, or am I misinterpreting the situation?” Gritting her teeth, she leaned in hard, dragging him along, carrying even more of his weight. Sweat pooled on her brow and dripped relentlessly into her eyes, determination strengthening her resolve. They would make it back, no matter what. The dog hurried ahead of them, alternately guarding and leading, watchful and alert.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they made it to the edge of the clearing in front of the shelter. Moonbeams lit the small glen, softly kissing the scenery, peaceful and inviting. Nothing moved, at least nothing Riley could identify and Demon exhibited no signs of uneasiness or concern. Nathan was almost unconscious, mumbling incoherently, his skin hot and feverish. Riley helped him sit down while she opened the shelter, gathering the little group in and then closing the entrance.

It was pitch black in the inner cave area and Riley groped along the wall, trying to find the inner door. Sliding it back, she physically hauled Nathan the rest of the way in. When the inner door was secure, she lit a candle and soft light spread through the darkness. Adding fuel to the few coals still smoldering in the fireplace, she had a small fire going quickly. Water would be boiling soon and she would have to doctor Nathan’s wound. Her stomach clenching in anxiety, Riley prepared a pallet on the floor and rolled Nathan on. Cutting his shirt off, she almost fainted at her first good look at the arrow wound.

Caked blood and grime clung to the area around the wound, which was puckered and oozing. The arrow was solidly entrenched just below his shoulder bone. Trying to remember basic anatomy, she was only guessing whether any major arteries were involved. Stripping off the rest of his clothes, she busied herself sponging the wound area, trying to center herself. Nathan groaned and tried to sit up, thrashing around and knocking over a chair in his delirium. With no other choice, she tied him up, worrying that if she didn’t, he would injure himself further.

Collecting an array of healing herbs from the stock Nathan kept on hand, she ground them up and added just enough water to make a thick paste. The water was boiling and the knives were in the process of being sterilized. The large sewing needle and long strands of animal hair were disinfected as well. She laid out a collection of clean rags and everything was in readiness, everything except herself. Saying a silent prayer for guidance, Riley braced herself for the work at hand. Shaking Nathan gently, she tried to force him to consciousness.

“Nathan,” she pleaded. “Nathan, you have to help me! I don’t know what to do.”

His glazed eyes opened with no sense of comprehension to comfort her.

“Nathan!” she tried again somewhat louder. “Nathan, please, you have to tell me what to do!” His fevered eyes slowly focused on her, recognition surfacing in the murky depths.

“Nathan, come on, Nathan! Try to focus, I need your help!”

Taking a shallow breath, he whispered through cracked and dry lips. “Pull the damn thing out.”

“
Pull it out! Is that all? Just pull it out?
What if I rupture an artery or something?” Tears washed her face and dripped down onto Nathan’s chest. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You have to,” he croaked feverishly. “I can’t do it.”

Losing the tenuous restraint she held on her emotions, Riley wept uncontrollably, sickened and terrified by what she would be forced to do.

“Calm down, sweetie,” weakly, Nathan tried to calm her. “In my pack...get the metal spoons.”

Hiccupping, she responded angrily. “And what am I supposed to do with them? Have lunch?”

“No,” shaking his head. “Widen the wound...make easier...pull the arrow straight out. Antibiotic in there, too.”

Rushing to his pack, she searched frantically, finally finding something that looked somewhat like metal spoons, more like salad spoons hooked in the middle. Flexing them open, her imagination did the rest. At least she had something to work with. There was also a packet of white powder which she assumed and hoped was the antibiotics. Briefly, she wondered how many other little modern conveniences he had tucked away. Later on, she would just have to find out. Whatever! She didn’t have time to think about it now. The spoons were hastily dipped into the boiling water and there was nothing left to do but begin.

Kneeling beside Nathan, she gingerly inserted the spoon heads along the arrow shaft, freezing when Nathan jerked in pain, sweat pooling on his brow.

“Keep going,” he growled. “Just get it over with.”

Forcing the spoons down as deep as she dared, she gently pried them open, stopping as Nathan gasped and cried out. She waited until he settled down, hoping he would have a few more instructions.

“Pull the arrow straight out,” he groaned. “Try to keep the barbs from twisting further in.”