Screaming, Jill kept clutching her right calf, blood running freely between her fingers. The water had diluted it a little, so it might look worse than it was, but the blood was plentiful. Her boot and shorts were stained with it, and it dripped through her fingers.
“Cut yourself loose,” Roz said, thrusting her Leatherman into Fiona’s hands.
Her hands were shaking so badly she could hardly make them function. She dropped the tool once, twice, but eventually she managed to pry out the scissors and cut herself out of the hammock rope.
Roz was trying to make Jill loosen the grip on her leg so she could see underneath her fingers, but Jill was hysterical, still screaming. Fiona knelt next to Jill’s head, set it in her lap, and started soothing her, making shushing sounds as she stroked her hair. She felt Jill relax slightly.
“Let go, Jill,” she said. “Let Roz help you.”
Jill’s eyes rolled up and back toward her, tears leaking from the corners. Her mouth was pinched in pain, and she was ghostly white. She sobbed and nodded, releasing her grip on her leg. Fiona caught a quick glimpse of a bloody hole before Roz slapped a piece of the hammock over it. Roz met her eyes, her mouth set in a grim line.
“It went right into the muscle here,” she said.
Jill sobbed again, wrenching upward, and Fiona pushed down on her shoulders to keep her in place. Roz had a death grip on Jill’s calf, and she managed to wrestle her legs back down to the ground. She used her body weight as leverage to keep them pinned to the ground by kneeling on her feet.
Roz took another peek under the bandage. “There’s no exit wound,”
“Can you get it out?” Fiona asked.
Roz grimaced again. “Yes, but I don’t know if I should. I can’t sterilize anything. We don’t even have hand sanitizer anymore.”
“Do it,” Jill moaned. “It hurts! Oh God, it hurts so bad!”
Fiona and Roz made eye contact again, and Fiona nodded. She would need to keep Jill as still as possible. She scooted forward a little, situating herself over Jill and pushing down on her shoulders. Gravity would help her here, but she braced herself for a fight.
Roz opened the pliers on her Leatherman and leaned down, the position awkward because of her need to keep Jill’s legs in place. Roz removed the clump of bloody hammock again and then opened the edges of Jill’s wound with the fingers on one hand. Jill bucked underneath them, but they managed to hold her as Roz probed the wound with the pliers. Jill screamed as Roz pulled the bullet from her leg, tossing it aside. Jill went limp beneath her, unconscious, and Fiona dropped onto her butt, panting.
Roz had clamped the bloody rag over Jill’s wound again. “Make me some more small pieces of hammock,” she said, handing her the tool. “I need two or three thick squares and several strips to wrap around her legs—three, four-feet long.”
She was soon sticky with blood, which had doused the tool, and her fingers occasionally stuck together. She worked quickly, handing Roz various sections of the cloth as she made them—first the squares, then the strips. By the time they were done, Jill’s calf was cocooned in cloth, the strips holding the squares firmly in place. The two of them were covered in blood, and Jill was incredibly pale and still.
Fiona leaned closer to her, listening, and felt Jill’s breath. She took her pulse, alarmed at how weak it felt.
Roz moved away, over to the edge of the trees, staring back over the water. She looked, pulled her head back, looked again from another tree, pulled her head back again, repeating this pattern. After several seconds of this, she rejoined her.
“I don’t see anything.”
“But they know we’re here,” Fiona said.
Roz nodded, her brows creased. “Exactly. I don’t understand why they didn’t follow us.”
Fiona was struck with an idea that felt like a certainty. “Maybe they don’t need to,” she suggested.
“What do you mean?”
Fiona gestured around them. “Maybe they already have some people over here. Maybe they’re on their way right now.”
“Christ,” Roz said, the remaining color draining from her cheeks. “I bet you anything you’re right.”
“So what should we do?”
Jill stirred to life. Fiona leapt forward, grabbing her shoulders again, and Roz took her feet in her hands. Jill tried to sit up, and Fiona pushed her down. Jill’s eyes popped open, and she took a deep breath.
“Shhhh!” Fiona said. “Shhhh! You’re okay. Try to stay quiet.”
Jill’s eyes filled with tears, and she sobbed again. Fiona leant down and gave her an awkward hug. Jill squeezed her back.
“I’m going to die out here, aren’t I?” Jill asked.
Fiona sat up, staring down at her. “Don’t even think that. You’re not dying here, goddamn it. No one is.”
Jill nodded, her face still crumpled and her lip quivering. “Yes, I am. Don’t you understand, Fiona? You have to leave me here.”
“Nope. That’s not happening. Roz—tell her. Tell her that’s not happening.”
Roz didn’t respond right away, and Fiona spun her way. Roz was rubbing her mouth, unconsciously smearing it with blood, clearly anxious. Fiona’s heart dropped.
“We’re not leaving her here, are we?” Fiona asked.
Roz and Jill were staring at each other now, and Fiona saw Roz give a slight, almost imperceptible nod. Fiona looked down at Jill again.
“You can’t be serious!”
Jill, however, seemed calmer again, her expression almost serene. The tears had dried up and her fear was gone. She looked determined, sure. She wiped her face with her palms, streaking semi-dried blood across her cheeks. Then she gripped Fiona’s hand, squeezing it, and pulled Fiona closer, their faces inches apart.
“You’re hurting me—”
“Now you listen to me, Fiona,” Jill said, her tone dark and angry. “Someone has to get out of here. Someone needs to make it back and find some help, make someone track these people down and end this. If you try to take me with you, all of us will die. Do you hear me? All of us. The only chance anyone has is if you and Roz get the hell out of here.”
“I can’t, I won’t—”
“Stop arguing with me, goddamn it! You saved my life once, and you’ll save it again if you go now without fighting me.”
Jill let go of her hand, and Fiona collapsed backward, sitting down so hard her teeth snapped. A long silence fell as the two of them stared at each other. Jill’s eyes were steely now, determined, and Fiona knew, all at once, that Jill would fight her all the way if she tried to force her to go with them. She’d seen that same resolve in her eyes a thousand times. Jill was not going to give up quietly.
Fiona burst into tears, feeling Roz encircle her with one of her strong arms soon afterward. She turned into her, sobbing into her neck, and Roz squeezed, rubbing a hand up and down her back. Finally, almost spent, Fiona let go, and Roz’s gaze was full of compassion, concern. She almost started crying again, but the reality of their situation was starting to sink in. One way one or another, they needed to leave before they were attacked again.
“Okay,” she finally said. “Okay. You’re right. I get it. But I don’t like it, Jill. I don’t like it one bit.”
The others visibly relaxed.
Jill smiled and squeezed her hand. “Can you guys prop me up a little, closer to a tree? I’d like to sit up, have something to lean on.”
The two of them dragged her over to a tree, careful of her hurt leg, and helped her sit upright, her back against the thick trunk. Roz left them there and started gathering their supplies. She clearly understood that they needed a moment.
Fiona and Jill linked hands again, and Jill was still smiling at her. With her bruises and her wan, blood-streaked face and leg, she looked like something out of a horror movie. That determination was still there in her eyes, dark and cool now, calm with acceptance.
“Do you remember that time when we were kids, and that jackass Ryan Heart was giving me lip in
P.E.?” Jill asked.
It took Fiona a second to focus on Jill’s question. She cleared her throat, suddenly choking on tears. “Ryan was always giving someone lip.”
“He had a nerve, that guy,” Jill said, frowning. “Ugly as hell and he still bullied everyone.”
“Defense mechanism,” Fiona muttered.
“That day, he said something nasty to me, and you went over there and slapped his stupid face.”
Fiona couldn’t help but grin. She’d gotten a two-week in-house suspension for that slap. Her parents had been furious. Still, it was one of those memories the two of them returned to time and again over the years. Jill always called it—
“Your finest hour,” she said.
Fiona smiled. “What about it?”
Jill met her eyes, the steely anger there again. “You stood up for me, Fiona. He was easily twice your size, and you did it anyway. The look on his face…” She grinned. “Priceless. He had no idea what to do. No one in school had taken him on before, and you weren’t exactly the school hero.”
Fiona was crying openly now. She knew what Jill was trying to do, but she couldn’t help but feel like this was good-bye.
“You always stand up for me,” Jill said. “I know it’s not easy being my friend, but you’ve stuck by me, thick and thin. I know some of your friends don’t like me—”
“That’s not—”
“I know it’s true. Anyway, don’t let them win. That’s all. I trust you. I trust you more than anyone I know. There isn’t another person I would trust to come back for me. You’re going to do this for me, Fiona. Not Roz—you. You’re going to save us all.”
“But what if I can’t do it, Jill? What if I can’t save you?”
Jill shrugged. “I know you’ll try your hardest. That’s all I need.”
“I hate the idea of you being here by yourself.”
“If you and Roz get back quickly, it won’t be so long.”
She understood this to be wishful thinking, but the possibility still gave Fiona a flicker of hope. It was true. If they could raise the alarm soon, they might make it back to her before dark. Assuming the people from the woods left her alone.
She made herself close her eyes, picturing the rescue. Her whole life, she’d done this—pictured success. She’d tried to let go of the habit as she grew older, feeling silly, like she was making wishes instead of doing something. But now, with her eyes closed and the sun’s dappled light filtering through her eyelids, she could picture the scene clearly. There would be dogs, horses, men and women with gear and guns. They’d make it here as the light was starting to fade from the day, but they’d get here before Jill was left here alone in the dark. She opened her eyes.
“I’ll do it. I’ll save you.”
“That’s my girl,” Jill whispered.
Roz crouched next to them, holding up various supplies. “I’m leaving some of the food with you, Jill—some matches, the space blanket, Fiona’s warmer shirt, and the fleece hat and jacket. I wish we had another water container, but the river is just a few feet away. I don’t think those people are over there anymore, so you should be safe going for a drink anytime you need to. I found a walking pole, and I’ll lean it here so you can keep the weight off your leg some.”
Fiona didn’t like the idea of leaving her here with no water, but they had very little choice. If she and Roz had any chance of making it back, they would need to carry the pack. No use running through the woods just to collapse from dehydration. They let her take several long sips from their bladder, and then they were on their feet again, staring down at her.
“Get going,” Jill said, making a shooing gesture. “You’ve already lost a serious chunk of the day.”
That was true enough. Any edge had been lost in the last hour. Now, once again, they’d be racing the clock to make it to civilization before dark. Even without much navigational experience, it would be harder and harder to keep track of their location as they lost daylight. The sun would be their only guide.
She couldn’t help but kneel once more and give Jill a parting hug.
“Stay alive,” she whispered.
Jill barked a single laugh. “You, too.” She looked up at Roz. “And keep our girl safe.”
“I will. Good-bye, Jill. With any luck, it’ll just be a few more hours.”
“Okay. I’ll be waiting. Nothing else to do.”
Fiona recognized Jill’s gallows humor for what it was, but she couldn’t pretend to laugh. Jill was so small, so diminished, it was almost too much. She was on the verge of begging her to come with them when Jill made another shooing gesture.
“Get out of here, guys. I’ll be okay.”
Roz grabbed Fiona’s hand, and Fiona let herself be led away, back into the woods toward home. She didn’t want to turn back, knew she shouldn’t let herself, in fact, but the urge was too strong. She threw one last glance behind her shoulder, but Jill was already hidden by the thick branches and leafy bushes and undergrowth, almost as if the woods had swallowed her whole.
Chapter Twenty-one
They seemed to meander through the woods. When they’d had the river to act as a landmark it had been easy to feel confident, sure in their direction. Here nothing told Fiona they were going the right way. Instead, it seemed they were constantly shifting direction, going one way for a while, only to go another a few minutes later. If she had to draw their progress, it would have been a kind of zigzag. Sometimes the reason was obvious. They had to walk around a large pile of boulders, or a thick cluster of trees, or a natural, murky pond. Other times, however, it seemed like they shifted direction for no reason. She didn’t ask Roz why they did this, trusting her instincts and sense of direction more than her own. They were moving, going somewhere, and that was enough for now.
They walked holding hands on and off most of the late morning and early afternoon. Roz let go only when they had to, for a narrow passage between trees or a steep downward incline. They were still losing elevation at a rapid clip, but she knew the last couple of miles would be relatively flat. She kept waiting for the ground to even out, to act as a sign for the last leg. Instead, they continued to hit hills, small and long, going farther and farther down the mountain. Her knees were throbbing now, her right one occasionally trying to lock in place, and she forced herself not to limp. On a particularly steep incline, she bit her lip to stop from calling out, a single tear escaping the corner of her eye. She wiped at it, furious with herself. Her friends were injured, in actual danger, and here she was, worried about her joints. She had to keep going.
Roz paused at the bottom of the hill, watching the rest of her progress down. After keeping up all morning, Fiona was starting to fall behind again, farther and farther with each hill. She made it to the bottom and bent her knee a couple of times to stretch it, rubbing it with a dirty hand.
“Knees giving you problems?” Roz asked.
She tilted a hand back and forth a couple of times and tried to smile. “Yes and no. I’m fine on the flat parts. It’s just these damn hills. But I’ll be okay.”
Roz stared at her evenly and, Fiona could see, suspiciously.
“All right,” Roz said, “but let me show you a stretch.”
She demonstrated by crossing one foot over the other. She stretched her body to the other side, re-crossed her feet the other way, and bent to the other side. Fiona mimicked her, feeling the strain run through her knees on either side. It hurt, but it stretched the correct part of her knee. She didn’t think it would do much good right now, but she was still grateful for the momentary pause. She did each side a couple more times and smiled.
“Thanks. That’s a little better. Let’s keep going.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. The only thing that would help right now is sitting for the rest of my life and staring at the TV.”
Roz grinned. “Not going on any more backpacking trips this summer?”
Fiona laughed. “No. Not any time soon.”
They linked hands again. Fiona couldn’t help but look at their entwined, dirty fingers. Both had blood under their fingernails, dirt encrusted directly in their skin. She’d been a fastidious neat freak since she was a kid and couldn’t think of a single time she’d been half as filthy. Her hair and face were just as bad, and she could see, despite the dark material, that her shirt was likewise grimy, but she didn’t really care. Maybe holding hands with a gorgeous woman who also didn’t seem to care helped, or maybe, for once in her life, her perspective was in the right place. It didn’t matter how grody she was when she found help, only that she did.
“Do you think Jill will be okay?”
Fiona regretted asking this question the moment it was out of her mouth. They hadn’t said anything about her since they left her, almost as if they’d agreed not to, as if talking about her would make Fiona go back.
Roz threw her a quick smile. “Are you kidding me? If anyone’s stubborn enough to live through this, it’s Jill. And anyway, she’s a survivor. She’s tough and mean as hell.”
Fiona grinned, flushing with relief. It was true, all of it. Roz had known her only a few days, but she’d described Jill as if they’d known each other a lifetime. Tears rose in her eyes again, and she blinked a few times, trying to hide them.
Roz paused again and pulled her into a quick hug. When she let go, she put her hands on Fiona’s shoulders.
“We did the right thing. I know it was shitty. I don’t like it either. I fucking hate it, in fact, and she’s not even my friend.”
“She will be, eventually. Once all this is over. You’ll get to know her like I do. You two are really going to hit it off.”
Roz raised a single eyebrow, and Fiona laughed.
“Okay, well, maybe.”
Roz smiled and dropped her hands. “I’ll give you a maybe. But Fiona, Jill’s going to be okay. As long as we get help, we’re all going to be okay. I won’t promise you, since that would be silly with all this going on, but I can promise you this. If we make it back, Jill, Carol, and Sarah will all be okay.”
From the Woods Page 21
