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THIRTY
We spend the next half hour tending to Madison while trying to forget that Garrett’s mutilated corpse lies just below the deck. The first thing we discover is that my emergency-medicine book is a piece of shit when it comes to severe blood loss. What does it tell us to do? Get her to a hospital as soon as possible. I almost throw it across the room at that.
The answer, though, is that there is no first-aid solution for this. Madison and I share a blood type and Kit is O negative, a universal donor, so a transfusion is the obvious answer. Obvious if I were writing this scene in one of my novels, but in real life that is a last resort, because we have only the vaguest idea how to do it and myComplete Book of Wilderness First Aidisn’t going to give DIY instructions forthatto amateur hikers. We will do a transfusion if we have to—Kit goes to rummage up supplies—but we aren’t at that point yet.
The book does tell us how to treat a neck wound, which is pretty much what we’d already done, with a few refinements. We peel off the bandages down to the last layer of gauze, confirm that the wound has closed, and then re-bandage it following the instructions.
I go into the kitchen next to make chicken broth and decarbonate a bottle of soda. Yes, I’m treating a serious neck wound like a case ofthe damned sniffles, but my brain insists that when Madison wakes, she’s going to need sustenance. Salty broth and sugary flat soda. The fluids will be essential for helping with the blood loss. Give her that plus rest and warmth, and pray help comes soon.
Madison is resting more comfortably now. Am I worrying because she didn’t stir when Garrett was screaming? Yes, but she’d been farther from the windows, and so I’ll tell myself it hadn’t been loud enough.
“Kit?” Jayla says when he comes back from gathering transfusion supplies. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
I set down a cup of broth and a glass of soda. “If it’s something you don’t want me to hear, just say so.”
“It’s something—”
“Unless it’s about Madison,” I continue. “Then I’m not going anywhere. Whatever you have to say, whatever your concerns are, say them.”
When Jayla hesitates, I lower myself beside Madison and smooth her hair. “It’s about Madison then. Let me guess, you’re concerned because of what Sadie became. You’re worried whatever she has might be contagious. Sadie bit Madison. You’re worried that could turn her into a zombie.”
At my matter-of-fact tone, Jayla relaxes and sinks onto a chair. “Yes.”
“Neither of those other victims was in any condition to bite Sadie,” Kit says. “Whatever happened to her, that’s not it.”
I glance over, my look asking him not to get defensive. We can’t do that, even when it’s about Madison.
“Sadie bit her on the neck,” Jayla says, almost apologetically.
“Raising the possibility of vampirism?” I resist the urge to shake my head. We must treat every suggestion seriously.
I brush back Madison’s hair. “I didn’t see any marks like that on Sadie or John Sinclair. I couldn’t tell with Rachel Rossi. But it seemed to me that Sadie was just attacking in any way she could. She also bit Garrett’s shoulder.”
“And shoved you into a tree branch,” Kit says.
“If we are concerned about Madison, we can restrain her,” I say, my voice even. “I won’t argue against that. If anyone suggests, though, that we put her outside—”
“No,” Jayla says firmly. “Absolutely not. If she shows any sign of not being herself, then we should restrain her, and we should have things ready for that. But no matter what—even if she’s like Sadie—we aren’t putting her out. We will do whatever we can to keep her safe and calm until help arrives.”
Is that possible? Jayla hasn’t experienced how strong Sadie can be. If that happened to Madison…
If it happened to Madison, I would take her outside. I would protect Jayla and Kit, but I would stay with Madison, whatever that means for myself.
“Laney?” Kit says.
I look over, and it takes a moment to focus on him. Then I brace, as if I somehow voiced my plans aloud, but he only says, “We need to talk about what’s happened. All of it. I know it’s not like listing symptoms to figure out a disease. We’re talking about something…” He spreads his hands. “Mystical? Paranormal? Supernatural? We need to make sure we’re all on the same page, knowing what we’ve experienced and what we might expect.”
I nod.
“So we all saw the fake Sadie, right?” Jayla says. “She came from the forest or the lake or whatever, and she looked fine. Some kind of illusion to lure Garrett away.”
“Sadie saw the same last night,” Kit says. “She claimed to have spotted me beneath her window, motioning for her to come with me, boat back to town. That’s why she gathered up her things. Only I was in bed, sleeping… which I obviously can’t prove.”
“I saw your expression when Sadie said that,” I say. “It wasn’t you. I also saw you this afternoon. That’s how I ended up on the bluff by the gazebo. I saw you heading that way, and I took off after you.”
“Illusions,” Jayla murmurs.
I nod. “There’s lots of folklore about seeing someone you’d follow, which leads to your death. Here, in all three cases, the illusions didn’t speak.”
