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He gave her a nervous smile as she wiped her eyes, nodding.
“Olive branch accepted – and thank you,” she mumbled quietly. “Now I feel like a jerk.”
“You were,” he agreed quickly and chuckled as she burst out laughing. “What? I’m honest.”
“Thank you, my friend.”
“You are welcome… my friend,” he murmured. “We should probably tell the others it’s safe to come back in. With that glass bottle in your hands, they probably thought you were gonna bash it like a beer bottle in a saloon fight and slice me wide open.”
And he was rewarded by her uncomfortable laugh as she nodded before looking away shyly.
* * *
Friday arrived, and he rode with Houghton to the airport to pick up Collins. This all felt so familiar and yet so distant, but he’d only really been here a little while now.
The past few days had been blissful since he gave her that silly pill bottle with all the cutesy sayings. She opened a tablet each morning with her coffee and then quickly hid the paper back inside the capsule. She set them on the counter, lining them up neatly, and he was tempted to peek at the phrases but didn’t want to betray her trust. He knew they were mushy and sweet – and that was all that mattered.
They almost fell into a routine together – and it was nice. Each morning, they woke and had coffee together before she took off to start her chores to help out. Each evening, they walked hand-in-hand for a little while, marveling at the changes and signs of spring coming eventually. Last night, she had found a few daffodils peeking up through the snow and had been so excited that he knew he was going to definitely pick some for her when they finally emerged.
“Here he is,” Houghton said carefully, and there was something in his tone that caused Jake to look at him in alarm. “Your buddy is stubborn to the point that it’s nightmare fuel.”
“What do you mean?”
“C’mon…”
Houghton exited the van without another word or explanation as the small plane taxied forward, and he recognized the pilot. It was his own ride here, a man who went by the call sign, Cajun.
He raised a hand – and waited as he cut the engines, looking for Collins, only to see his friend sit up in the back of the plane – looking nearly gray.
“What the…” Jake uttered in disbelief, staring at the once animated man who was now a shadow, a husk of the man he’d known for almost a year.
“Man, don’t look at me like that,” Collins snapped, his eyes flashing as he glared at him. “I know I look like crap… but you don’t have to stare at the freakshow while you’re at it.”
“How’s the foot?” Houghton asked pointedly.
“It hurts, okay?”
“The break is still healing?” Jake asked, stunned at the difference in his friend. “How’s your other leg?”
“Fine. I got the cast cut off yesterday before this flight, and they wanted to keep cutting, if you get my drift. I had to get out of there because no one is lopping off…”
“Max,” Jake said hoarsely, realizing that it wasn’t just the sickly gray tinge to his skin, but his friend was pouring sweat, and his eyes were fevered. He was really sick…deathlysick. “Max, how bad is it?”
“Can we just go?” Collins bit out and looked away, swallowing.
“Hey,” Cajun said immediately. “I hate to interrupt this reunion, but I have something for my fiancee’s sister, Lena. Could you take her something for me? I need to head home.”
“Sure,” Jake said distractedly, unable to take his eyes off of how bad his buddy was doing and followed Cajun toward the plane. As the pilot opened the side door, he turned around.
“That man is putrid,” Cajun said in a harsh whisper. “He smells of decay and needs an ambulance – or a casket. He was struggling to get in the plane and screamed when I touched his leg to get it inside.”
“What?”
“He’s bad, and I’m afraid he’s lying to himself because he’s scared. They are gonna take that leg – if it doesn’t kill him first.”
Jake nodded numbly, looking back at them standing there, waiting.
“You said you had something for Lena?”
