“What’s up, boy? Got some wild animals ahead?” She suspected Bear had picked up a smell he didn’t like. She went to Buddy and made sure her rifle and pistol were at the ready, her adrenaline kicking in.
After his short barking fit, Bear headed off the main trail overland through a forested area. Okay, then, this was the diversion. Molly studied the place carefully. She would never have picked up on this location. Finally, she settled on a distinctive old growth Ponderosa pine. She studied the tree and an unusual twisted branch and made a mental note.
The pace slowed dramatically to less than three miles an hour. There were logs to step over, bushes to push through, and an unsteady surface. Molly adjusted the pace accordingly. She wasn’t worried about the dogs or Buddy. She just couldn’t afford a sprained ankle right now. Time to be very careful.
They walked for an hour, perhaps two or three miles, through the forested area, at times on animal trails, at times making their own. Occasionally, she saw mule footprints she assumed were Beryl’s. She had no doubt she was on Bart’s off the grid trail. After an hour, the trail opened up to a long, rocky ridge, an animal trail on top. At times, the slopes were steep, and Molly could easily envision catastrophe, but the dogs and Buddy were sure-footed, and she increased her focus.
Her team walked the ridge for over an hour before Bear took them back into a forest. They were definitely on animal trails now, carefully making their way along. Molly had pulled out a machete that she occasionally used to clear branches. Beryl’s footprints were off and on visible on softer ground.
After three hours, she estimated they were now nine or ten miles off the main trail, making slower progress, but still steady. They’d been walking for eight hours. It was 3:00 in the afternoon. The temperatures were warm, but they were in a deep forest with shade. Molly’s stress level had been on a steady risesince she’d concluded they were probably going to arrive at their destination sometime that day. The bile was slowly releasing in her stomach. No amount of water could remove the dryness in her mouth. Her heart was beating more than the pace justified. The last thing she needed right now was to get sick, but she felt awful.
Bear was pushing the pace and barking more. They were definitely getting close. The tension in her stomach increased, making her nauseous and light-headed. She drank more water to stay hydrated. Not knowing what she was walking into was severely upsetting, cruel images playing in her mind of what she might be finding. She took long, deep breaths trying to fight off the sickness.
Molly instantly recognized Dark Hollow. They came around a bend and she was looking up a long, narrow, heavily-forested valley with steep cliffs rising on both sides. It was exactly as Bart had described. Bear and Shadow disappeared into the forest on a well-beaten trail. A broad, lush meadow was at the valley’s opening, and she could see circles where Beryl had grazed. But Beryl was not in sight, nor was a cabin. And nor was Bart.
As Molly and Buddy quickened the pace, the dogs appeared barking, then disappeared again, racing up the trail until they were out of sight, then back again. The meadow turned into a dark, thick, old-growth forest, giant Ponderosa pines growing in rich soil topped by a soft carpet of aromatic pine needles.
The valley was perhaps a quarter mile wide at the opening and extending to steep, forested slopes on each side. Bart’s well-worn trail now showed tracks from two wagon wheels, most likely a cart for hauling wood. Stumps from smaller trees werevisible on both sides of the trail, but the giant, centuries old trees were magnificent. The dogs were running back and forth barking, urging Molly and Buddy to move faster. Molly was looking for a cabin, but the forest was thick, the trees huge, and the deeper she went, the darker and more narrow it got. Without a doubt, she was in Dark Hollow.
But was she too late? Bart was clearly incapacitated in some way, or he’d be out to greet her. But how? And where? Molly had refused to release on the possibility that Bart might be back to normal by the time she arrived, but that hope was now dashed. The dogs were loud, and there was no Bart coming out to welcome them, and she knew she was close, very close.
Was it good news that Bear was leading her to Bart’s cabin rather than a cliff or body of water? It increased the chances he was at the cabin. Was that good news? She’d know soon.
The sickness deepened, and Molly realized she needed to throw up. The exhaustion from walking nearly fifty miles in two days combined with the stress of what she might find had her nearly incapacitated. Finally, she stepped off the trail, leaned over, and threw up once, then again. She rinsed her mouth and took deep gulps of fresh air. Okay, she needed that. The bile in her stomach had overwhelmed her system.
She rinsed her mouth, took another drink of water, and resumed the walk, searching the trail and valley. She was certain that each bend in the trail would produce a view of the cabin, but each bend just showed another twist in the trail ahead. She was walking between the wagon wheel tracks when she heard the braying of a mule. Buddy brayed back. The mules had picked up on the other’s scent. Another turn in the trail and Molly saw Beryl tied to a tree, the surrounding vegetation scoured. Beryl had to be hungry. She walked to Beryl, gave her some love, and resumed her journey. She didn’t see the cabin until she was almost on it. It was cleverly tucked behind three giant trees,barely visible from fifty yards away. A tiny, authentic log cabin in a thick of magnificent trees up against a steep rocky hillside. Bart’s retreat.
But there was no Bart to greet her. Bear and Shadow had disappeared behind the cabin, and she could hear them barking inside. Bear had his own entrance. Bart was not opening the door, but he had to be inside. Molly thought she might get sick again. Was she strong enough to accept what might be inside?
She tied Buddy to a tree and ran to the cabin. Her heart pounding against her rib cage, she gently pulled the latch and pushed the door open. She took a deep breath, preparing for the worst. Straight ahead was a cot, and lying on the cot, not moving, was Bart. He was lying on his back, still, a blanket pulled over his body, only his head showing. Bear and Shadow were barking by the bed.
Molly rushed to the cot and almost cried when she felt his wrist. It was warm. He had a light pulse. She moved her hand to beneath his nose and felt a wisp of breath. He was alive and breathing, but still. She put her hand on his forehead and felt the fever. He was hot. His body was fighting whatever was attacking him. She opened his eyelids with her fingers. His eyes were glazed and nonresponsive. He was in some kind of deep sleep or coma. But most importantly, he was alive.
Molly felt the adrenaline kicking in. She ran to Buddy, unfastened the medical kit, and carried it to the cot. She pulled up a wood chair and a small table, laying the medical bag on the table. She’d thought a lot about this contingency: Bart unresponsive.
Step by step, she ran through his vitals. His temperature was 102.5, a serious fever. That was good and bad. A high fever could not be sustained, and she needed to get it down, but the fever meant his body was fighting some kind of infection. His lips,mouth, and fingers were dry. He was dehydrated. She needed to get an IV going with an antibiotic to help fight the infection.
His blood pressure was too low, as was his heart rate, indicative of some kind of coma or deeply induced sleep. She took the blanket off and undressed him, carefully doing a full body inspection, looking for a wound, swelling, rash, bite, cut, or other interruption to the skin. She looked carefully and found nothing except for what appeared to be an insect bite on his neck, most likely a mosquito, but in the nature of a rash. Otherwise, his skin was intact. He’d soiled himself in the bed, so she stripped his clothes and gave him a sponge bath using water from the kitchen sink and a dish towel. She dressed him with clean underwear from a shelf by the bed.
The sink water was cold, and she dampened cloths Reed had packed, laying one on his forehead, another on his neck, and two more on the inside of his wrists. She left him uncovered, hoping the cool air and wet towels would help bring the fever down.
Okay, she reviewed what she knew. He was alive, non-responsive, with a fever, low blood pressure, low heart rate, dehydrated, no swelling or breaks in the skin, and no visible sources of infection or injury. She needed to get an IV going with an antibiotic.
She nervously retrieved the kit Reed had packed. She turned on her cell phone and laid it on the table. When it was on, she opened the medical manual and toggled to IV instructions. The manual listed the five step process. She needed to establish a place to hang the bag. Finding a hammer and nails in a tool bag in the kitchen, she pounded a nail into a log above the cot and hung the saline bag.
She tightened a rubber hose around his elbow to cause the vein in his hand to swell. She scrubbed it with an antiseptic included in the kit and slowly inserted the needle, poking him several times before she got it properly in the vein. She thenconnected the saline bag to the needle using a long tube. Taking a deep breath, she studied the tube nervously, finally noting that solution was moving into Bart’s body.
Okay, then. She had an IV in. She studied the manual and the various antibiotics she had, selecting the most general purpose one. Using a syringe, she injected a measured dose into the bag. The antibiotic would be going directly into his veins. She had no idea if she had the right one or if he was allergic to anything. She had no choices and, with the fever, it was critical to fight whatever was causing the fever.
An hour had passed, so she took his vitals again, hoping for improvement, but finding no change. She started a chart, writing down both sets of vitals by date and time. She was familiar with the process, having worked in medical clinics. She just hadn’t worked on people.
With the IV working and the medical record underway, she sat back to take stock. She didn’t know much, but what she did know was important.
Bart was alive.
Chapter 25
She’d done everything she could for Bart, and the animals needed attention. She put out food and water for Bear and Shadow. Bear had been lying obediently near Bart. He took a break to eat and drink, after which he returned to his master. Molly fed and watered both mules and unloaded Buddy, setting supplies on the small front porch. She moved both mules to fresh grass.
