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“He needs help, Grant.” I speak softly, although I’m pretty sure we’re too far away from the camp for regular voices to be heard. “We can ask him more questions later.”
Grant looks like he’s about to snap back an answer, but then he evidently changes his mind. He looks at Noah. Then looks at me. Then gives a curt nod. “Okay. Let’s get somewhere safe.”
I’m surprised but relieved at this decision, and I move to help Grant support Noah as we make our way back to the Jeep. It’s not an easy or a pleasant journey, but luck is on our side because we don’t see anyone else and our vehicle is still untouched where we left it.
Grant dumps Noah unceremoniously in the back before he and I climb into our seats. “Where will we go?” I ask him.
“I know a shelter nearby. It won’t be comfortable, but it will be safe.”
That sounds good to me. I don’t need luxury right now. I need a space where it doesn’t feel like we’re about to be attacked from all sides. And we need to treat Noah’s injuries as best we can.
Grant is silent as he drives us back down the gravel road and then about a mile to a dirt path that’s barely wide enough for the Jeep to fit through. He forces it through anyway. It goes uphill for a while and then around a steep, rocky edge. The vehicle jerks to a stop there. I have no idea why. I see nothing that might constitute a shelter.
I don’t question Grant, however. He obviously knows more about what he’s doing than I do. I scramble out and move to help support Noah as we pull him out of the back.
He’s still conscious. Sickly white and drenched in sweat and blood.
Grant leads us to what looks like a solid wall of rock, but then I realize there’s an opening there. A shallow cave, nearly out of sight from the dirt path.
“How did you find this place?” I ask as we lower Noah to the packed dirt ground.
It’s an irrelevant question. An idle one. But Grant answers me anyway. “Luck. I was looking for somewhere nearby to stow some emergency provisions and managed to find this.”
I gasp as I see there are a couple of cases against the back wall. There will be stuff in there that we can use. Grant stashed them there probably months ago in preparation for exactly such an emergency.
He really is good at this kind of thing.
“Wow,” I murmur.
He shrugs off what’s obviously a compliment and focuses on tending Noah. He opens up one of the cases and pulls out some first aid supplies. He cleans him up, finds and binds the bullet wound in his back, and gives him some pain medication.
I help as much as I can, even though the blood and Noah’s pain make my stomach churn dangerously.
When we’re done, Grant thrusts a bottle of water at me. “Drink some of this.”
“I don’t—”
“Drink it.”
I make a face at him, but I do take a few sips. Small ones since I’m still kind of queasy.
After a minute, I feel better. I let out a slow exhale. This was evidently what Grant was waiting for. He pulls me a few feet away from Noah, toward the exit of the cave, and he says, “You stay here with him. I’m going to scout the camp and figure out what we’re up against.”
My spine stiffens with a jerk. “You can’t go! They’ll see you. Noah can just tell you—” I break off the words as I glance back. Noah looks better than he did, but he isn’t even conscious anymore.
“He can’t tell me anything right now, and I’ve got to learn as much as I can.”
“Then I’ll come—”
“Someone needs to stay with Noah.”
“But what if he needs help? I don’t know enough about first aid to—”
“Olivia,” he says thickly, reaching out to cup one of my cool, damp cheeks. “He’s going to die. There’s nothing you can do for him anyway.”
“What? No! We—”
“We made him as comfortable as we could, but he’s got a bullet in his back. I’m not a surgeon. I can’t get it out. And he’s lost too much blood anyway. We’d have to get him back to the clinic in the bunker to save him, and even then we might not be able to. He’s not going to make it, princess, but I don’t want him to die alone.”
