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“Wait here for a moment.”
I don’t like leaving her unprotected, but when I light a torch, the small creatures scurrying alongside the walls prove I made the best choice. I’ve never seen someone so terrified of something so small. Soon the fire chases them off into the distant reaches of the cave, and I help Dana crawl inside.
It’s spacious inside, which is both good and bad. Good, because I can leave a fire burning as we sleep, which will keep away bugs and other predators. Bad, because there’s a chance something else might be sharing the cave with us. But the openings look too small to fit anything truly threatening, and the sky is going from orange to dark purple.
Even if this were a shit shelter, we’re out of time.
“Thanks,” Dana huffs. She rolls onto an animal hide I stretched out to use as bedding.
Even in the firelight, she looks dangerously pale. I offer her water, which she drinks, and a stick of smoked boar meat, which she sets down after one bite.
“You haven’t eaten since this morning.”
“Can’t,” she mutters.
Her eyes droop, and my heart races in alarm. I grab some of the dwindling medical supplies from my pack, and she doesn’t protest as I help her lift her shirt, exposing her stomach.
Breath rushes from my lungs. Fuck. Her wound is angry and red. I’m no healer, but I’m pretty sure whenever something is oozing, that’s considered a bad sign.
I clean it the best I can for her with trembling fingers. We’re running out of clean bandages. I hate this feeling in my chest right now, like some sort of animal is threatening to scrabble free, scratching at my chest and throat. I know it well.
Helplessness.
Even my leg aches beyond belief. If more wolves come, brave enough to breach the cave and the fire, can I even fight them off? What good am I to her? I can’t even protect her from an infected scratch.
“Try a little more.” I bring the smoked meat back to her lips, but she refuses.
“Later.”
I coax more water into her lips, but soon she’s fast asleep. I lie down next to her and stoke the fire. Sleep is the best thing for her now, and gods know it’s not like I’ve been much of a talker during our travels, but something aches inside me as I watch her sleep. Something about the dark shadows beneath her eyes, or the slight rattle in her chest when she breathes.
I’d do damned near anything just to have her chatter on about plants or something, but she just sleeps. Eventually, fitfully, I do, too.
“Stop!”
Dana!
My eyes open and my hand curls around the scabbard of my weapon. I’m instantly awake, prepared for battle.
“Please,” Dana murmurs. She isn’t awake—there’s a battle, but it’s taking place solely inside her mind. “Stop. I can’t…”
Her voice breaks off into a whimper, and I roll towards her.
“It's just a dream.” I brush hair from her face. She’s covered in sweat, shivering so hard her teeth are chattering. Her skin is boiling hot to the touch.
A fever.
The infection in her wound has spread.
Shit. Internally, I’m panicking. On the outside, I keep my voice calm as I stoke the fire, adding sticks. I don’t want any bugs near her now, not when she’s so scared of them, not when she might—
No.I don’t want to even think about it, but it’s impossible not to. Dana looks even more fragile now, sick and frail. I pull her against my chest and settle another fur on top of us in an attempt to ease her shivering, and then think better of the fur. She’s already hot.
I think better of laying next to her, too, but she burrows against me, clinging to my shoulders. I can’t move her without pressing against her wound. So I lie still.
What else can I do? I want to run straight to the nearest doctor, but there isn’t one. Not close enough to risk a night journey.
“It’s okay.” That’s about all I can manage for her. Lying. “You’re okay.”
