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Her ears rang loudly as the rushing noise came back toward her. Cursing, Lando picked up her pace, not wanting to lose sight of the horizon. She was so focused on making sure her feet planted in the right spot, she didn’t notice Violet until arms surrounded her and dragged her down to the ground. Violet lay next to her, their bodies pressed tightly together in a small divot in the field. Violet’s chest rose and fell sharply. Lando closed her eyes and drew in as deep a breath as possible to calm herself.
She was safe. She was right where she was supposed to be. She’d found her way back to the car. It didn’t take much longer for what sounded like a roaring train only inches away to dissipate and move off into the distance. Violet was the first to move, pushing her palm deep into the ground as she sat up and looked around. It was already lighter than it had been when she’d left the Hummer. When Lando looked up into Violet’s gaze, disappointment riddled every feature.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
Lando’s lips parted, but shock entered her chest, and she couldn’t find any words to respond.
“Do you realize how close you were to it?”
She hadn’t. Not until then. Not when she’d been walking out into that field. Lando had just been doing what she was told, trying to prove to Violet that she was useful and was there for a reason, that she could be part of the team.
“Do you even value your life?”
That one stung. Lando clenched her jaw tightly, sitting up and staring at Violet with no idea how to defend herself. She should have been far more careful. She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Violet’s eyes went wide. She stood up, towering over Lando. “Sorry for almost killing yourself? If you want to be useful, be useful, but don’t get yourself killed, because that is far more work for us in the long term.”
Anger surged in Lando’s chest. She would not sit there and be chastised. Climbing to stand, she glared at Violet.
“The least you could have done was get the damn things where they needed to go.” Violet pointed to the box still sitting in the middle of the field. “If you’re going to die for it, make your life worth something.”
Lando’s lips parted. Any retort she’d been thinking vanished. She’d never seen Violet be this cruel before. Whatever had happened between the end of the quarter and now, this was not the woman who had taught her for nearly a year. This was someone Lando didn’t even like, someone angry, cold.
“And of course you’re hurt.” Violet lifted Lando’s hand, dropping it.
Confused, Lando looked down to blood pouring down her fingers onto the ground below.
“That’s going to be a trip to the doctor.” Cursing again, Violet turned toward the fence line no more than five feet away. “Expensive as crap.”
Swallowing, Lando remained silent and followed Violet toward the fence. Violet stepped through the barbed wires like she had all the experience in the world, and Lando struggled to get over the top one, poking herself several times with the metal. Gritting her teeth, she finally stood on the other side.
Violet tossed a towel at her and wrenched open the car door to find Diane. “It missed. I’m going to go get the box.”
Lando missed Diane’s response, but Violet glared as she stalked by Lando. “Waste of time and effort. Go home if you’re not going to be helpful.”
Lando’s heart sank. Violet angrily climbed over the fence again, rain still pelting down on her. Staring off at Violet as she walked, anger in every step, Lando shivered. Diane got out of the car, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around Lando’s arm.
“She’ll cool off in a minute.”
“Right,” Lando mumbled.
“I’ll find the nearest doctor who can look at this.”
“It’s fine.”
“It looks like stitches.”
Lando grimaced. First storm and she may already be out for a chunk of the season. She kept her mouth shut but found pity in Diane’s gaze as she checked the injury and looked out at Violet as she grabbed the box.
“Next time, don’t lose the funnel.”
* * *
Forty-six stitches and so much local anesthetic that Lando could barely feel her hand. Exhaustion hit her as the doctor finished cleaning her wound. Her eyes drooped from the weight of everything. She’d barely spoken to anyone except for the necessities.Not allergic to latex. Not taking any medications. Don’t give me pain killers. No insurance.
Violet had glared about that one.
With the final directions given—not to get it wet, and that the stitches could come out in twelve to fourteen days—Lando grabbed her bloody towel and stalked out of the small clinical office. Violet stood, leaning against the wall of the small waiting room. Diane sat primly in one of the chairs, her neck bent to look at her phone.
