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I skidded down a steep part of the trail, my heart pumping and sweat slithering down the middle of my back. My phone read 11:22 AM, but no bars. At that rate, I’d make it back to camp entirely before I managed to get service. Then a bar appeared in the top right-hand corner.
I dug in my feet, not wanting to mess with whatever invisible mojo cell phone service required, and I dialed Carla. She answered on the third ring. “If you quit on this thing, you’re fired,” she said.
“June had an asthma attack,” I panted, getting straight to it. “She needs EMS.”
“Where are you?”
“About one point four miles up the arrowhead trail,” I said. “Severe restriction of airways, cyanosis, and tachypnea, but I managed to get her calm and stable for now. She doesn’t have an inhaler at camp.”
“I’m sending EMS to you now,” she said. She hung up, and I turned back around, jogging up the trail with my heart beating painfully against my ribs.
It seemed like the run back to her tree took forever, but I knew that logically it was less than a mile. Finally, I recognized the landmarks. I turned left first, finding the log June had been sitting on, snatched up her bag, and then dropped it in the middle of the road for the EMS to find. Then I veered right and sprinted back to the cottonwood. Breathless and covered in a sheen of sweat, I smacked the tree trunk. “June!”
A choking sound came from overhead. Panic lanced through me like lightning in my veins. “June!””
Suddenly, she leaned her head over, smiling mischievously. She held up her phone with a paused stopwatch. 15:24.
I gusted out a breath, relieved that she hadn’t succumbed to another attack… and then absolutely furious with her. I glared. “Don’t move. I’ll come get you.”
It took some finessing, and I had to admit that I was overly paranoid about taxing her strength, but I managed to get her seated on a low-lying branch before I jumped down and held out my arms.
June put her hands on my shoulders, and I lowered her carefully to the ground. Her small frame slid down mine, and she looped her forearms behind my neck, supporting her weight as I guided her feet to the ground. Her chest pulsed against mine with her short, staccato breaths. Despite her condition, she leaned into me, smiling like she wanted to crack a joke.
I settled her feet on the ground and pressed my thumb against her lips. “No jokes,” I glowered, my voice barely audible. “Not funny, Matthews.” She bit her lower lip, lashes flitting up to give me a puckish eye squint. I pinched her bare midriff. “When you’re better, you’re going to pay for that. I almost had a heart attack.”
Sucking in short breaths, her lips still alarmingly blue, June swayed on her feet. “For,” a sharp breath in, “ho-ney.”
Her tachypnea was getting worse again. I scrambled around in my brain for a way to keep her calm. “I thought the puke was payback for that,” I teased. I guided her down to the ground and braced my back against the trunk of the tree so she could lean against my side. I hated how her lungs struggled for air, bronchitic with every inhalation.
“Tha-tha-h,” she tensed, her hand digging into the dirt as she battled to keep her composure while her body resisted all her efforts.
“Stop,” I chided, pulling her head down to rest on my chest. I wrapped one arm around her soft body. “I get it. I’m the worst.” She nodded. “You’re about to really hate me. EMS is on its way.”
She sat up again, green eyes darting side to side. “N—” wheeze, “nuh-oh.”
“What else did you expect, June? You thought they’d send an ATV and give you an antacid tablet back at the mess hall?”
“Fuhhck.”
“I’ll give you a pass on that one,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Stop talking.”
“Ha-hah-hate,” she ground out, her auburn brows pinched together.
“I never understand people who hate hospitals,” I mused, forcefully guiding her back to my side. When she had settled against me again, I pressed my fingers to her wrist.One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…“I like them,” I continued, glancing at my watch while I counted silently in my head. “I know bad things happen there, but a lot of miraculous things happen, too.”
She made a derisive sound.
Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight… “Babies are born in hospitals,” I pointed out. “Cancer patients ring bells when their treatments have ended. Loved ones wake up from comas.”
“Hm,” she mused, as if considering my words.
Ninety-one, ninety-two, ninety-three, ninety-four.My watch hit the thirty second mark.188. Way too high.I gathered her closer to me, scanning the quiet forest for any signs of EMS.
“’Mos?” she breathed.
“Hm?” I asked. My brain danced around all the worst-case scenarios and what I’d need to do to keep this girl alive until EMS arrived.
“You,” she fought against her swollen airways. “Kissed. Me.” I went rigid. She made a little “kuh,” sound like a weak laugh followed by a painful coughing fit that sounded wet and raw.
