The Bleeding Crowd (18 page)

Dahlia hurt. She had walked to work most days
when the weather was nice, but their eight to ten hour days of
walking up and down hills in the cold at a pace she could just
manage left her body sore and tired. It made each morning harder
and harder to force herself up and walk. Her calves felt like balls
had been placed under the skin. The muscles refused to relax even
when she sat. Even without carrying her medical bag or the
emergency pack that Des and the older men switched off between
themselves every hour or so, her shoulders ached. She didn’t know
how the others managed carrying supplies other than the fact that
they knew they had no other choice. The water they carried tasted
stale and the bars that served as their daily rations were dry and
powdery, but they needed both, if only to fill their stomachs
enough to keep going.

When they stopped for the night, Dahlia
flopped down on a patch of grass, not able to care about the
dampness the cold air had left. She left her legs folded under her,
her limbs not willing to exert enough force to move her weight off
them. Abel sat almost as exhausted. The rest of the group gathered
around Des, waiting for her to pull out the map they had and
attempt to place where they were.

They talked in hushed, hurried voices and
decided something, then moved away from their huddle. Des pulled
some of the bars from the pack and one of the canteens. She passed
the canteen to Heather and began breaking the bars in half.

“All right. I think we’re within five
miles...” Des looked at Dahlia. “Eight kilometers, off from where
we want to be. As long as we keep moving fast enough, we should be
there in an hour and a half.”

“You mean today?” Dahlia stared at her,
aghast. Des nodded.

“Oh, well, if one of you wants to carry me,
I’m sure we could be.” Dahlia rubbed her legs.

Ben looked as though he were going to say
something snide, thought the better of it, and moved to the
opposite side of the small gulley they had settled into between two
hills.

Dahlia glanced at him and then leaned to
stretch her back, setting her jaw to avoid a wince.

A half of one of the bars Des was handing out
was in front of her when she lifted her head again. She followed
the arm up to the man’s face before offering a small smile. “Not
hungry.”

“You have to be.” Jude sat next to her.
“You’re burning enough calories walking every day. You need to
eat.”

“Calories.”

“Oh.” Jude frowned, his face scrunching as he
tried to remember something. “Units of energy
transfer...kilo...”

“Kilojoules?”

“There we go.” Jude smiled. “Point is, if you
don’t eat, you’re going to pass out. Then one of us really will
have to carry you.”

Dahlia sighed, but took the bar, studying it
for a second. “At least tell me you agree that these things are
disgusting.”

“Not any worse than what we have at the
camps.” Jude shook his head, taking a bite of his half.

“I’m shocked you didn’t revolt earlier.” She
broke off a piece with some struggle, popping it in her mouth with
a grimace. “It takes like sawdust.”

“You’ve eaten sawdust?” Jude smiled.

Dahlia swallowed, making a rather
unattractive face, while trying to get the powdery substance off
her tongue. “Well, it’s what I imagine sawdust tastes like.”

“Damn, that would have been an interesting
story I’m sure if you had.” Jude looked across the camp.

Dahlia followed his line of sight, watching
Ben quickly look away. She sighed. “He is such a child.”

“He can be,” Jude said. “Good leader
though”

“Really?” She looked at Jude. “It seems like
you’re the one doing most of the leading here. You and Des.”

“Wait until we actually have to fight.” Jude
shook his head. “He’s a brilliant fighter.”

“That’s something to brag about,” she said
with sarcasm.

“It is when you have to fight for your life,”
Jude said. “Believe me, you’re going to be glad he’s on our side.
Des too for that matter.”

“Rest of you can’t fight?”

“We can, just not nearly as well as Ben. His
body just takes to it, you know? Like his muscles are into it. The
rest of us have to think about it.”

“That why he has all those scars?”

“Well, we all have our scares if you didn’t
notice.”

“Can’t say I was ever looking for them.”

Jude twisted, pulling his shirt up slightly.
“Turf war. Five years ago.”

Dahlia pulled the shirt up more, touching the
scar on his side wrapping slightly to his back about halfway
between his shoulder blade and waist. “You were lucky. It hit your
rib. A couple centimeters in either direction and you would have
had a punctured lung.”

“Well, we made it through.” Jude pulled his
shirt free and turned to face her again. “For most of us, half of
it is skill and the other half is just pure dumb luck.”

“Not for master fighter over there?” Dahlia
motioned with her chin.

“Well, he wasn’t always trained, but a good
part of his luck comes from skill now.”

“I’m not sure that sentence makes logical
sense.”

Jude smiled.

Dahlia took another bite, forcing it down
before looking back at Jude. “I don’t know how to fight.”

“I think we all figured that.” Jude
nodded.

“Means I’m dead weight in a fight unless one
of you gets hurt.”

“Can’t imagine having a doctor with you is
ever a bad thing.”

“Heather could do most of what I do.”

“You think she could have gotten our chips
out?”

Dahlia nodded, not feeling the need to make
his point for him except to say Heather was capable of it. She
looked at the slight bump under his shirt where the gauze was.
“Your arm’s functioning fine?”

“No complaints.” He lifted his arm
slightly.

“Take off your shirt.” Dahlia nodded. “I’m
going to take a look.”

“What?” He frowned.

“I’ve been a bad doctor.” She motioned for
him to remove his shirt. “I should have checked to make sure it’s
heeling properly long before this, but with everything
else...off.”

“Now generally I’d expect dinner first.” He
pulled his shirt off.

She knotted her eyebrows, waiting for an
explanation.

“Sorry, just a joke.” Jude looked at her.

“I figured,” she said. “I just don’t get
it.”

Jude brushed it away without explaining.

Dahlia pulled the gauze back gently, sucking
in her cheeks as she studied the site.

“Jude hurt?” Heather moved over to them.

“Just checking how he’s healing,” Dahlia
said. “Do we have enough water to let me wash it?”

“I think we passed a stream a little way
back,” Heather said.

“Really?”

Heather nodded.

“Get some water and boil it if you can.
Filter it if nothing else.”

Heather nodded again.

Dahlia turned back to Jude, looking at the
scab over the surgery site. Her eyes moved to his shoulder. “You
have one too.”

“What?” Jude frowned, craning to look at his
shoulder.

“Ben has the same scar on his shoulder. The
one that looks like a snake.”

Jude nodded. “We all do, if you haven’t
noticed.”

“Why?”

“It shows you’re a part of the group,” Jude
said. “We have snakes. There are others, you know, like one eye,
horns...”

“You scar yourselves on purpose?”

“It’s an initiation thing.”

“It’s barbaric.”

He looked at her earlobes. “You punched holes
in your ears. Any different?”

“I didn’t have to pierce my ears to prove I
was part of a group.”

“It’s all body modification.”

“Did you at least have something sterile to
cut with?”

“Why would we? Everything about us is
barbaric right?”

“I said the practice was barbaric, not that
you were.”

He sent her a look.

She ignored him, waiting for Heather to bring
back the water and boil it enough to sterilize it. She washed off
any of the extra dried blood, looking at the cut. “You’re a quick
healer. Seems to be a trait among you men.”

“The slow healers don’t survive,” Jude said.
“Natural selection I suppose you could call it.”

Dahlia didn’t answer and finished washing his
shoulder. She glanced at him before getting her medical bag. “I’m
going to put a small bandage over it just to be safe, but it looks
like it’ll be just fine.”

The other men lined up without being asked.
Other than a mild infection on Zechs’ part, there didn’t seem to be
any problems.

Dahlia allowed a small smile. “I’m good.”

“It would seem so.” Jude nodded. “But
what...?”

“What, what?” Dahlia frowned.

Jude just looked at Ben.

“If he wants help, he can come here.” Dahlia
put the supplies away. “He has legs.”

Jude shook his head. “You’re perfect for each
other.”

“What?”

“You’re both needlessly stubborn,” Jude said.
“One of you is going to have to blink first, you know.”

“Blink?”

He shook his head. “If one of you doesn’t try
to open communications first, both of you are going to be not
talking forever.”

“Why should I have to talk to him? He’s the
one who has issues with me being here.”

“You know that’s not what he’s upset
about.”

She scoffed. “I love how everyone here has an
opinion on how Ben and I relate to each other.”

“Well, we’re sitting in a forest. There’s not
much else to do.”

Dahlia shook her head, using some of the
water to splash her face, considering trying to clean her hair some
before wondering if having a wet head was wise. “So, what makes you
think it’s my job to go over there?”

“You’re a woman, aren’t you?” He smiled.
“Diplomacy is in your genes.”

“All you equal rights men need to stop
playing on stereotypes when they’re handy for you if you want to be
taken seriously.”

“It’s your duty as a doctor to take care of
your patients, isn’t it?” He switched approaches seamlessly.

Dahlia pressed her lips together tightly, but
forced herself upright, picking up a couple things from her bag.
“Watch my bag, won’t you?”

“Where do you think it would go?”

“Right.” She stretched her back a little.
“Force of habit.”

Ben looked away as she moved over to him, not
bothering to acknowledge her as she sat next to him.

“Shirt off,” she instructed without
pretense.

He did as instructed in silence.

She sighed at his response. “You’re going to
have to talk to me eventually, you realize?”

He didn’t respond.

She shook her head and peeled the bandage off
slowly. “Fine then. Be a child.”

His jaw tightened. “You and Jude seem to be
getting along.”

She glanced at his profile before looking
back at his shoulder. “He’s a nice man. I can see why you’ve kept
him as a friend.”

“Can you?”

She frowned at the tone of his voice. “What’s
that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged with one shoulder.

“You know, you have no reason to be like
this.”

“Like what?”

“So petulant.”

He snorted.

“Fine,” she snapped. “You seem to be healing
fine. Keep doing what you have been.”

Jude watched her come back and flop down next
to him. “Didn’t go well?”

She twitched in irritation. “I’m a little
upset I didn’t accidentally kill him.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Dahlia shrugged unwilling to say more about
Ben. “Where did Heather and Des go?”

Jude looked around. “No clue.”

She rolled her shoulders. “Should we look for
them?”

“I’m sure they can take care of themselves,”
Jude said. “They’re big girls.”

“Correction,” she said, “should we leave this
pseudo-camp before I hurt your friend over there?”

“I thought you were sore.”

“Not as sore as I could be.” She forced
herself up again, ignoring her leg’s protests. “Coming?”

“Why do you need me?”

“You think I have a sense of direction after
this long out here?”

“True.” Jude scrambled to his feet.

“Which way do we go to reach that creek?”

Jude pointed. “I think that way.”

Dahlia nodded, starting up the hill and then
down the other side with care. “You know, as pretty as I find
nature, if I never see another forest again after this...”

The wet leaves on the hill started to slide
under her weight. Jude grabbed her arm to study her. “You’re lucky
we’re all out here with you. You wouldn’t have lasted even this
long on your own.”

“Come on now.” Dahlia stopped to catch her
balance, before moving the rest of the way to where the ground
leveled out. “I’d like to think I could at least make it a
week.”

“I’d imagine that would be on the generous
end of an estimate.”

“Your faith in me is heartwarming.” She
rolled her eyes.

“Do you really need me to have faith in you
to be happy?”

“It would be nice.”

“I’ll do my best to be your personal
cheerleader then.”

There was a shout.

They froze.

“What was that?” Dahlia whispered.

Jude shook his head, holding his hand out.
“Stay here.”

“I’m not standing around here by myself,” she
said. “It’s getting dark.”

Another, quieter sound followed.

Dahlia frowned. “Was that a moan?”

“I think we found Des and Heather,” Jude
said.

“Are they—?”

“I think it’s safe to assume,” Jude cut her
off.

Dahlia blinked and paused. “I admit I still
don’t fully understand lesbian sex. I imagine they’re missing some
rather crucial parts.”

“They seem to work around that,” Jude
said.

“I figured. I still don’t fully grasp
how.”

“So what? You want to spy on your sister
while she’s having sex?”

“No.” Dahlia shook her head. “I’m not
voyeuristic. It’s just idle curiosity. I mean, them finding a way
makes sense—sex can be fun, no need for them to miss out—but
still...”