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Seeing how she struggled and strained, Sam took the cuff of Justin’s jeans between his teeth and carried one of Justin’s legs. “Thanks!” Carly said with a grunt. Sam gave a small wag of his tail in acknowledgement, though his eyes were troubled.
Carly laid Justin on his side as gently as she could and brought a tool kit and a first aid kit over to her makeshift hospital area. She set up the medical supplies she thought she’d need. In the tool kit, she found a pair of heavy-duty wire cutters and splashed rubbing alcohol over the blades. She took a deep breath and cut off the head of the arrow. Then, before she could change her mind, she yanked out the shaft.
Justin cried out in pain and thrashed for a moment before slipping, mercifully, back into unconsciousness. Blood gushed from both sides of the wound and Carly pressed thick wads of sterile gauze padding over them. Push hard. Push hard to stop the bleeding.
It was a difficult task. Justin’s body was wide enough to prevent Carly from being able to lock her elbows. She had to use the strength in her arms to push, and after hauling him into and out of the wagon, that strength was almost spent. But she pushed. She pushed hard, drawing energy from a determination she didn’t know she had. She wasn’t going to give up. She wasn’t going to lose him. She didn’t know how much time she spent pushing, changing out soaked gauze for fresh, but it was dark when the bleeding finally slowed to a trickle and she became aware enough of her surroundings to notice.
Carly poured peroxide over both sides of the wound, slathered it with antibacterial cream, and taped a fresh gauze pad over both sides. She left him lying on his side so she could monitor the entry and the exit of the wound to make sure he didn’t start bleeding again.
She wondered if it was a dangerous sign that he was still unconscious. She wished she knew if she should try to wake him up, or if sleep was what his body needed to heal.
Carly tried to think of what the arrow might have hit, but anatomy had never been her strong suit; pictures of the human innards had always disturbed her, even if they were just drawings. It wasn’t the heart; she knew that, at least. A lung, perhaps? He seemed to be breathing all right, and there was no blood coming out of his mouth or nose.
Carly hugged her knees to her chest. What was she supposed to do now? The gauze pad had a spot of blood on it, but it didn’t seem to be getting larger. She stared at that spot for so long she lost track of time until Sam nudged her. She came back to reality with a startled blink. The fire had burned down to orange embers, and the pot of water she’d put on had boiled dry. She wrapped her hand in a cloth and lifted the pot aside before tossing on a few pieces of wood.
Shadowfax stood behind them at the corner of the house, watching the driveway like a sentinel. She made soft rumbling noises and shuffled her feet occasionally, but stood there, alert and watching, and her head swiveled toward every noise.
Carly sat down beside Justin again. She picked up one of his limp hands and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Justin? Justin, if you can hear me, please wake up soon. I—I’m scared. I’m scared, and I don’t know what else to do for you.”
Sam crawled up beside Carly and laid his head on her thigh. He gave a soft whine and looked in Justin’s direction, then back at Carly questioningly.
“I don’t know. I guess we just have to wait.”
Sam got to his feet and went over to bump Justin’s head with his nose. When that wasn’t successful, he settled down beside him and placed his head on Justin’s stomach.
All night she waited. Justin never moved. Only the rise and fall of his chest reassured her he was still alive. Dawn came, and the birds began to sing in the trees—an incongruously cheerful sound. Carly put more wood on the fire.
Justin twitched. She held her breath. He twitched again.
“Justin?”
He went still.
She closed her eyes.
Throughout the day, the scene repeated frequently. Justin would twitch or mutter, and Carly would think he was waking, but then he’d sink back into silence. He moaned once, and her excitement rose, but he never opened his eyes, never responded to her. Carly saw beads of sweat on his temples and laid a hand on his forehead. Oh, no...
He was burning up.
She pressed her hands over her mouth, her mind momentarily blanked with panic. He had a fever. The Infection! He has the Infection! Had his wound compromised his immune system?
Don’t be an idiot, she chided herself. He doesn’t have the Infection. It’s his injury.
Were his wounds infected? Carly pulled away the gauze pads and peered at the holes. They were red. But aren’t all wounds red? She poured peroxide over them again and reapplied the antibacterial cream before covering them with clean pads.
What if the infection was down inside, where the peroxide didn’t reach?
Oh, God, what do I do?
Carly forced herself to think. They had antibiotics in the wagon. She knew that. She went over and pulled the tarp aside and began to shuffle through the boxes. She didn’t recognize many of the names, but one stood out to her. Amoxicillin. She’d had a friend who took it for her frequent ear infections. Carly opened the box and took out one of the bottles inside. She turned the bottle in her hand and almost wept with relief when she saw it had instructions for the usual dosage on the side. One tablet every twelve hours.
But what if Justin was allergic? Some people had deadly reactions to antibiotics, but Carly couldn’t remember which ones, or what symptoms indicated an allergy. Still, she had to try. He was burning up. She could only hope he would have thought to tell her if he was allergic to anything.
Carly opened the bottle and pulled out the cotton wadding inside. She shook one of the red and yellow capsules into her hand before she realized she had a new problem. How was she going to an unconscious man to take a pill?
She opened Justin’s mouth and dropped it inside then pushed his jaw closed. After a moment, she opened it back up and saw the pill stuck to his tongue in the same place she’d put it. There was a bottle of water sitting on the end of the wagon. She opened it and poured some into his mouth, hoping he’d swallow automatically. Justin started coughing and Carly turned his head so the water would run out of his mouth.
Carly lifted his head onto her thigh and stuffed the soggy pill as far back into his throat as she could, then tilted his head back to dribble in a little water, a tiny bit at a time. She saw Justin swallow once, and considered it a victory. The pill was inside him.
