Ryan, on the other hand, couldn’t have hurried if he tried. Like the Armorer, he wanted to return to camp quickly, but the notion of rapid movement was, at the moment, quite alien. Every breath, every step, sent pains around his ribs and chest, shooting back and forth like snakes in long grass, never letting him know exactly where they would appear next. Bending to gather wood was an almost impossible task, and although he gathered some pieces, he soon gave up on that. It would be all he could do to get back to the others. Breathing as shallowly as possible to cut down on the pain of muscle movement around his ribs, he began to hobble back, taking small, quick steps to make as rapid a progress as possible with as little effort and pain.
Unlike Jak, both Ryan and J.B.—although keeping triple-red—were unaware of any presence around them, their own pain and difficulty misting their usually razor sharp faculties.
It made the group relatively defenseless, especially as Mildred was still unconscious when Jak—the first back—reached the clearing.
“Me,” he said simply as he emerged from cover to join Krysty and Dean, dropping his load of firewood on the woodland floor. “Where others?”
“Not back yet,” Krysty replied.
Jak grimaced. “You notice?” he asked.
“Notice what?” Krysty countered.
“Ryan and J.B. both carrying injury—one leg, one ribs. Try to cover, carry on—but must hurt like fuck.”
Krysty trusted Jak’s judgment implicitly. It was typical of both men to try to work through their pain; but given the conditions under which the companions were trying to survive, it was better that Jak had made them aware of this. They would have to pull together more then ever.
Doc began to moan.
“He’s coming around,” Dean said, leaning over Doc as his eyes flickered open. They were unseeing, as though the old man was viewing a different world.
“Heavens to Betsy, is there no one who will rid me of this troublesome priest?” he asked in feeble tones. Then, surprising them, he shot bolt upright and spoke in loud, declamatory tones. “Are we not men? Do we seek to hide in the shadows and not to come into the open and declare ourselves? What is this that makes us skulk in the shadows? When they came, then came again, I said nothing. When they came for me, there was nobody left to save me. Oh, who will save the poor widow’s son? I do not wish to be split from breast to breast and have my entrails spilled across my shoulder, and yet…and yet…” As he repeated the phrase, his voice suddenly quietened and he sank back, eyes still open. “Oh my sweet Lord,” he continued softly, “what has happened to me?”
“It’d take too long to explain, Doc,” Krysty said softly, mopping his brow. “Just know that you’re pretty safe right now, and we’re about to build a fire and get warm. Do you remember being in the raft?”
“I think so,” he said gently, nodding with wide-eyed wonder like a child frightened of the dark and sensing a friendly hand in the blackness.
“Well, that was a rough ride, but we’re out of it now. Just got to dry off and get warm.”
Doc struggled up onto one elbow. “But the good Dr. Wyeth? What has happened to her? I know something must have, for she is always there when I am troubled in the soul and awaken from a nightmare.” He looked around, catching sight of the prone Mildred. “Is she…?”
“She’s alive, Doc, but unconscious,” Krysty answered, holding on to the hand with which he clung to her, tightly and as though his life were dependent upon it. “It’s important that we get this fire built.”
“What? Oh, yes, of course,” he said, suddenly snapping into reality and letting go her hand. “What must I do?”
“You stay there, Doc, while we do this,” Dean answered. “You’re still not a hundred percent and that was a hell of a trip. Just rest a moment.”
Doc nodded sagely. “You are a wise man, like your father, young master Cawdor.” He fell silent as he watched them.
The fire was soon built and Jak began to use a stick rubbed onto dry leaves in a channel cut into a larger branch by his knife. In the dark, the first sparks of fire and the smoldering of the leaves glowed dimly in the dark, brightening as Jak blew gently to fan the flame before transferring it to the pile they had constructed ready for burning.