Page 79 of Duty Preserved

Fuck.

I grabbed a brush and dustpan to sweep up the pieces, cursing myself the whole time for my clumsiness. Moved on to the next item: the limping impala Zayn had flagged two days ago. That meant a field trip, darting, sedation, and hands on the animal while it was under. I had to use today for other tasks, though. I wrote it into tomorrow’s column. The rangers could monitor another day.

I pulled the next chart.

“You left early.”

Donovan stood in the doorway with two mugs. He crossed to the counter and set one beside my clipboard.

“Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d get ahead of it.”

He leaned against the counter and drank from his own. His hair was still damp and he hadn’t shaved.

“How’s the eland?”

“Good. Weight-bearing, sutures holding. Another few days and we can talk about release.” I picked up the coffee. “Thank you.”

“What else is on the board?”

I walked him through it. The parasite slides on the warthogs. Logging yesterday’s water samples. The supply rotation I’d been putting off. He listened without interrupting, and I talked because the talking kept me in the list where things had edges.

“And the impala Zayn flagged?”

“I think it can be put off to tomorrow.”

He looked at me over the rim of his mug. He didn’t push it.

The light came through the facility windows in long, pale shafts. Donovan leaned against the counter with his coffee, and I sat on the stool with mine. For at least a few moments with him there, the world didn’t seem so out of control.

Zayn came whipping through the door suddenly, his radio in one hand, sweat already on his forehead.

“We have a problem. One of the bull elephants. He has got a deep tusk wound. The overnight patrol found him about an hour ago.”

“How bad?”

“Standing, but barely. He separated from the bachelor group overnight. The wound looks infected.”

A bull elephant with a tusk gash gone septic. Another bull’s tusk, from a fight. Males in musth drove at each other and the damage went deep, and most of the time the hide and the immune system handled it. When a wound turned septic anyway, the gash had reached tissue that couldn’t fight the infection alone.

A high-value animal with a life-threatening, treatable condition. Squarely inside my mandate. And there was no one to hand it to.

“How far?”

“Forty minutes. Open ground.”

“Tell Baraka to grab two rangers and meet us at the trucks. I’ll pack the kit.”

Zayn was already keying his radio.

Donovan set his mug on the counter. “I’m with you.”

I grabbed my field bag and started loading. Dart gun, darts, drug kit. Xylazine for induction, reversal for recovery. Surgical pack: debriding forceps, irrigation syringe, antiseptic, gauze. Long-acting antibiotic. I ran the sequence aloud as I packed. “Antiseptic first, debride the necrotic tissue, flush, pack, antibiotic.”

Donovan held the bag open while I loaded the last of it.

We took two vehicles. Zayn drove the lead truck with me beside him, Donovan in back. Baraka and two rangers followed. Nobody spoke on the drive.

I saw the bull before Zayn pointed him out.