As the fire took, all four of them suddenly became aware of the fact that J.B. and Ryan hadn’t yet appeared.
“Hot pipe, where are they?” Dean asked, a note of concern and worry creeping into his voice. “Mebbe we should try to search for them.”
Jak shook his head, his eyes like the embers in the center of the now burning fire. “They not call for help, and not quick as usual. Wait for ‘while. Light of fire guide them if they lose bearing.”
The albino youth was right. After a few tense minutes when no one dared to break the silence, first the Armorer and then the one-eyed man came into view. J.B. was limping heavily, and Ryan moved slowly, the pain of each step, each breath, showing on the lines etched on his face. The two men stopped and looked at each other as they entered the small clearing, wry grins appearing despite the pain.
“And I thought I had something to tell you,” J.B. said softly.
They made their way to the fire and settled uncomfortably.
“I’m going to see if there’s any painkillers in Mildred’s pockets,” Krysty said, rising to move over to the sodden jacket and rifling through the pockets to see what was left. To her surprise, many of the medical supplies were still within the capacious pockets, having stayed there despite the turbulence and immersion of the short voyage. As they were all vacuum packed or shrink wrapped to keep them sterile, it was only the outer coverings of the medical supplies that were wet. Some pills and dressings that had already been opened were ruined, but these were in the minority as Mildred had filled her pockets as much as possible before leaving the redoubt. Although the supplies she had carried in her satchel were forever lost, the supplies she’d stashed in her jacket pockets would do for the time being.
So Krysty was able to give J.B. and Ryan painkillers. She checked the Armorer’s calf, but there was no outward sign of injury. And as Ryan gritted his teeth and swore at the pain, she took a roll of sealed bandage, broke it open and began to bind his ribs. Like the one-eyed man himself, she and the rest of the group were only too well aware that he would be slowed up for some time, leaving him vulnerable. But at least his ribs would be secured as much as possible and they could begin to mend.
All the while Jak kept his attention divided between the group around the fire and the darkness beyond the clearing, trying to discern any movement and to identify the danger he knew was there.
“What is it?” Ryan asked simply.
Jak shook his head distractedly. “Dunno. Something, but good at keeping cover.”
Ryan sucked on his hollow tooth. “Okay, we’re not in any shape to go to it, so we have to let it come to us. I figure if nothing else, if it gets too close, at least Jak’ll be able to hear it coming, if not all of us. Stay triple-red. Meantime, we need to see what we can do about Mildred.”
The painkillers had begun to kick in and both Ryan and J.B. were able to move a little more freely without the harsh reminder of pain to bring their injuries to mind. The companions gathered around Mildred.
Krysty pulled back the doctor’s eyelid. The eyeball was still rolled back into her head, the pupil lost to view. She had no fever, and there was no cut anywhere on her head, just an egg like lump near the top of her skull, where she had hit the ocean with force. She was breathing regularly and easily now.
“Why won’t she come around?” J.B. asked of no one in particular.
“It is nothing more than a manifestation of concussion,” Doc said quietly. “There is nothing we can do, no matter how frustrating it may be, other than sit and wait.”
“Yeah, but how much time do we have?” Ryan countered.
Doc fixed him with a stare. “How much time does she need?”
“I don’t know,” Krysty said, “but I figure now is the time to risk something she once told me about—she’s been out too long.”