by Shea Balik
Ruth came forward, her head moving from side to side as she muttered, “I swear that boy has the sense of a bug.”
Brandr growled at her. “He did this for all of you,” he said when all eyes widened as every single person backed away from him. “No one is to insult him for that choice,” Brandr warned. “Is that clear?”
Like they were all being controlled by the same puppet master, each head moved up and down. Brandr didn’t give a shit if they were scared of him, so long as they treated Logan with the respect he deserved for saving their lives – twice.
“I need somewhere he can lie down but be close by as I examine everyone,” Brander told her.
Ruth pointed to a cot that was free along the edge of the narrow room. “That’s his,” she told him. “And how does healing you help us?”
One of Brandr’s faults was the inability to hide some of his reactions. After twelve hundred years he should have been able to do a better job controlling them, but it always shocked him just how stupid people could be.
At that moment, he was fairly sure he wore a ‘seriously?’ look on his face. When he went to speak and found his mouth already open, he was sure there was an added element of ‘you all are idiots,’ expressed there. “I am a doctor,” he said slowly, not giving a shit that his tone told them all he thought they were morons.
He might be willing to help people as a doctor, but Brandr had never really cared to have a good bedside manner his instructors tried to insist was important. To him, bedside manner should only be reserved for those that deserved it. At this moment, none of them did.
With great care, he placed Logan on the narrow cot. Then he covered him with the thin blanket that had been there. “Anyone wakes him up with screaming, crying, or by bumping into him, will have to deal with me.” He stared first at the children, then at the adults, who had acted even worse than the kids, as far as he was concerned.
“Now, where is Tyree?” he followed Ruth several beds down to a little boy who was extremely pale and sweating profusely.
Fuck. He may have hated the fact that Logan had risked his own health to heal Brandr, but it was a good thing he had. Tyree was on death’s door. He wasn’t sure there was a way to save him.
After a through exam, he found it was much worse than he’d imagined. Ruth was sitting on the edge of the boy’s bed, gently wiping his forehead with a cool cloth. It killed him to have to ask the next question but he had to know if he was going to make a decision that would alter this child’s life forever.
“What kind of injuries did Logan heal so far?” Brandr kept his voice low, so hopefully no one else would overhear him.
Ruth glanced at Tyree’s leg, clearly understanding what Brandr was asking. An infection had turned gangrenous. It was slowly creeping up Tyree’s leg, eating away more of the healthy tissue.
Without Logan, Brandr wouldn’t hesitate to cut the leg off before it spread throughout Tyree’s body. But, and this was a big but, if Logan recovered and was able to use his magic on Tyree, it might be prudent to wait and hope.
“Wallace had an infection setting into a wound on his arm,” Ruth said, keeping her voice just as soft as Brandr had. “It was completely gone, but Logan passed out when he finished.”
“Are you able to get fresh water?” he asked her.
Ruth nodded to the back of the long bunker. “There are at least another twenty or so five gallon jugs of water. We’ve had to use a lot to try and keep everyone’s wounds clean.”
Brandr nodded. “I’m going to bring one up here. Then I’ll need your help to clean as much of this infection out as possible.” It would be a horrible job, but he was determined to give Tyree as much time as possible for Logan to wake up and heal him.
He wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. He hated it, in fact. Logan shouldn’t have to risk himself to do this, but Brandr was certain if he didn’t, Logan would never forgive him.
Ruth placed a hand on his arm as he stood up. She looked up at him. “You’re doing the right thing. Tyree has been through too much and Logan would never want him to lose his leg.”
That was the thing. Brandr wasn’t so sure letting Logan make those decisions was good for any of them, but especially Logan. If Tyree had been an adult, Brandr wouldn’t have allowed his emotion for Logan or the cute kid to cloud his judgment.
But life being the bitch it was, Brandr just wasn’t prepared to cut the leg off a little boy, who didn’t look like he’d even reached his tenth birthday. Not responding to Ruth, Brandr headed to the back, which was a storage area for food, water, and medical supplies, which appeared to be fairly picked over.
Brandr’s med kit was large compared to most since he was a doctor, but there was no way it was going to go far enough to treat everyone. He was going to need more supplies.
Even more important, he was going to need his friends to come get them and bring them home. There he’d be able to put Tyree on an IV drip of antibiotics instead of relying on shots. He also had an endless supply of everything he could possibly need to help these people.
Brandr had always believed in being prepared. Fortunately, their leader, Eirik, felt the same and never once questioned the equipment or supplies Brandr kept on hand.
As he picked up a jug of water, movement caught his eye behind the lined up bottles. Curious, he made his way to the far corner to find a little boy, sucking his thumb as he pulled a blanket tight around him. He was already tiny, but the boy had managed to make himself smaller by curling his legs up to his chest and tucking his head against his knees.
“Hello there,” Brandr said gently so as not to scare the child. “My name’s Brandr,” he said.
Nothing.
“Are you hiding from someone?” he asked, hoping there wasn’t anyone picking on this little kid.
His long blonde hair swished against his shoulders as he shook his head.
“Do you want to tell me why you’re back here?” Brandr asked him.
Big green eyes stared at him in bewilderment. Tears began to form, washing the color into a muted watery shade. “I don’t want Tyree to die,” he whispered just when Brandr thought he wasn’t going to say anything.
Shit.
“Tell you what,” Brandr said. “I’m going to do everything I can to help your brother,” or at least, he assumed Tyree was his brother, “but I’m going to need your help.”
The little boy’s head popped up off his knees. He didn’t say a word but there was interest in his eyes.
“Do you know who Logan is?” he asked.
The boy nodded.
“Do me a favor and don’t let anyone wake him up, okay?” When the kid tilted his head as if unsure of the strange request, Brandr dropped his voice low as if he were imparting a secret. “Logan might be able to save your brother, but he’s too tired right now. If he sleeps enough, and gets enough food, when he wakes up, Tyree might just have a chance.”
The kid got up and raced toward Logan’s bed. Standing next to it, he guarded it as if daring anyone to stop him.
Smiling at the cute image, Brandr went back to Tyree with the large jug of water as well as what appeared to be clean towels and a basin to capture as much of the rancid infection as possible. Otherwise, it would only go all over the cement floor, possibly infecting someone else.
“Is there anyone well enough to find a phone?” he asked Ruth.
She shook her head. “The most healthy are kids and let’s face it, if we sent them out there, they might get lost, or God forbid, they encounter the Fae.”
“I need to get ahold of my friends,” Brandr told her as they worked on cleaning Tyree’s leg. “They can get us to our house where I have a medical suite that is equipped to deal with everyone.” He nodded at Tyree. “He could be on an antibiotic drip and stand a chance of fighting this infection back.”
There was silence for several minutes. “I can try,” Ruth told him. “My back was bruised, but I don’t think anything was broken.”
“Y
ou wouldn’t go far, nor could you possibly travel fast,” Brandr told her plainly. There was no point in doing anything else. Sending her wouldn’t help them unless there was a house nearby, which none of them knew if there was. “Your gait is too slow right now. Your back may only be bruised but it still hurts enough that it’s causing you too much trouble.
“How many are hurt? I mean, seriously hurt?” he asked her.
“Twelve.” That wasn’t what he was hoping Ruth would say.
“Fine,” he said. “Once I’ve tended those twelve, I will head out and find a phone.”
“What if the Fae come back?” a man asked. He had been lying in the bunk in front of Tyree’s with his leg completely immobilized in a splint and could easily hear their conversation.
Ruth placed a hand on the man’s other ankle. “This is Naim. He’s one of the twelve you need to see.”
But Naim was shaking his head vigorously. “No. Don’t hold up on account of me. Nothing is going to change if I’m not examined.”
“We think his hip was broken,” Ruth said. “Crushed, when one of those things slammed him into a metal pole.”
In a way they were both right. It had been weeks. Naim’s bones were mending, most likely not correctly. That would need to be fixed, but at the same time, one or even two days, at this point wasn’t going to make a difference.
“Naim’s right. He can wait.” But that didn’t change Naim’s initial question. “As for the Fae? Hopefully, in this bunker they won’t be able to get to you if they try again.”
The thought of Logan facing off against them with no way to defend himself didn’t sit well with him. “But I will find a phone as fast as I can in order to get back here before that can happen,” he promised them.
He just hoped it was one he could keep.
CHAPTER 6
There was a moment when Logan first woke up where everything had been as it was the day before the winter solstice. His parents, sister, aunt, uncle, and three cousins were still alive, getting ready to not only celebrate their druid heritage, but preparing for Christmas, too.
It didn’t last long, but Logan cherished those first few seconds where all was right in his world. If only it didn’t have to come crashing down as the crying of too many orphaned children and the moans of the injured started to filter into his brain.
No matter how hard Logan tried to hold onto that fleeting peace, it always dissipated, leaving only wisps of happier times that he couldn’t retain under the onslaught of fear. The Fae were relentless in their desire to destroy the druids. If only they weren’t so damn successful, Logan might be able to hold onto the hope that his parents had instilled in him.
‘There’s always tomorrow.’ That had been his father’s favorite line. His mom’s was a bit more fanciful as she told him and his sister, Lila, that ‘dreams could come true if one learned to persevere.’
He wasn’t so sure either of them had been right. Since too often he saw that tomorrow didn’t always come. For him? Yes, at least so far. But that illusion that it would always be there for him to try again was gone. Just as his mother’s encouraging words had been disproven that sometimes no matter how hard one tried, there wasn’t always a chance for anyone’s dreams to become reality.
“He said he’d be back as soon as he could.” Ruth’s voice filtered through the myriad of cries, whines, and whimpers from those that were suffering around him.
It was a constant sound since he’d joined up with the druids who were just trying to survive the Fae. Even more so since the last time they’d faced the beasts that had crossed through the Veil.
Yet, something was… different. Logan couldn’t put his finger on it, but he was sure of it.
“What if he lied?” Perth asked. “It’s not as if there are many people who would willingly come back to help us.”
Perth was generally what Logan’s mother would call a negative Nancy, or was it Ned since he was a man? Anyway, the point being that if there was a downside to anything, Perth would not only find it but point it out to them.
“He said he’d come back and I believed him,” Ruth insisted. “He did help keep Tyree alive, didn’t he? That has to be worth a little trust.”
The mention of Tyree had everything rushing back to Logan. Opening his eyes as he sat up, he instantly regretted that rash decision as wave upon wave of nausea and dizziness washed over him.
“Logan.” Ruth was suddenly at his side, pressing a cool washcloth to his face and the back of his neck.
Slowly, Logan regained his equilibrium as he let the sounds of the bunker filter into his brain. Nothing sounded too amiss. There was crying as well as some whimpering, but there was also the sounds of laughter as some of the children played.
When he thought he could lift his head from where he held it in his hands without throwing up, Logan did, to find they were still in the bomb shelter and based on the fact that there was no natural light, either it was pitch dark outside, or they had the top hatch closed.
“Where’s Brandr?” he asked, terrified the conversation he’d overheard when he’d first awoken meant the man had left them.
Ruth placed a gentle hand on his arm as if to reassure him, but before she could say a word, Perth blurted out, “He left us here.”
“Perth,” Ruth said with a huge dose of warning in her voice. “After he did what he could to help those most in need, Brandr went to go get help. He claims his friends will come and get us to take us somewhere where they can better protect us.”
Logan stared at Ruth for several long minutes, trying to size up if she was telling him the truth or not. He didn’t see any deception in her gaze, but then again, Logan had no clue how he would have known the difference.
“Are you sure he’s coming back?” Then he glanced around to those still in their beds recovering. “Who did he help?”
“No one is actually better,” Perth told him.
“Perth, seriously, you have got to stop being so damn negative,” Naim said from a few beds down. “That man worked for ten hours trying to do what he could for those most in need and you know it. But the man is not a miracle worker, just a doctor. Healing takes time.”
Then Naim glanced over at Logan. “Well, usually.” Then he pointed at the bed just beyond his. “If it wasn’t for Brandr, Tyree probably wouldn’t have a chance.”
“Tyree,” Logan whispered. “How is he?”
“About to get his leg amputated,” Perth muttered.
“Perth,” Ruth scolded. “That is enough. I don’t want another word out of you if you don’t have something positive to say.”
Then movement from the foot his bed caught his attention. There, sitting on the ground, as if trying to stay out of everyone’s way was Leith, Tyree’s brother. He stood up and handed Logan one of the two power bars he’d been holding close to his chest
A sob came bursting out of Logan’s mouth. He couldn’t explain it, but the thought of losing Tyree was just too damn hard to bear. He’d connected with the kid almost from the first day Logan had joined the group of druids. Maisie, too. At first he’d just thought it fun to hang out with the kids, but after a couple of months, Logan had learned there was no point in befriending an adult. They would just end up leaving sooner or later.
But Leith had been a harder nut to crack, refusing to speak with him no matter what he did.
“Bran said you have to eat,” Leith told him.
Logan was staring at him stunned. He was fairly sure that was the first time he’d ever heard Leith speak. For it to be with orders from Brandr, made the whole thing… well, bizarre.
“Brandr had a choice to make,” Ruth whispered. “He hated putting it on you, but he cleared as much of the rotting infection from Tyree’s leg as possible in hopes of keeping him alive long enough for you…”
She didn’t say anymore. She didn’t have to.
“He wants me to heal him.” The words weren’t necessary, but Logan had said them all the same.
“Ye
s, but he wants you to wait until he gets back,” she informed him. Then she held up her arm and looked at her watch. “Which hopefully will be soon.”
“And if it isn’t?” No way was he going to risk Tyree’s life on a maybe. If he was going to save him, there was no point in waiting.
But when he went to go to Tyree’s bunk, Leith stepped in front of him and pointed at the power bar Logan still held. “Eat.” There was no room in Leith’s voice for arguments, which Logan wasn’t sure how to take, since he was only four.
“He’s right,” Ruth said. “You’re not going to do anyone any good, not even Tyree, if you pass out before you can heal him.”
As much as he hated to admit it, Leith and Ruth had a point. Even now his stomach was growling for something to eat. So, he opened up the wrapper and took a big bite. Leith grinned up at him.
Then very carefully, he bent down and picked up a reusable water bottle. It was quite large and if Logan had to guess, it had been Brandr’s. Little Leith struggled, but he managed to pick it up, after putting the second power bar on the bed.
“Drink.” Again, another order. He wasn’t sure if he should scold Leith for telling an adult what to do, or congratulate him for not backing down.
By the time he’d finished the first bar and had several sips of water, Logan’s eyes started to close. Leith tugged on Logan’s arm. Only because he was so damn tired was the little boy able to pull him down upon the bed.
Once Logan was sitting, Leith pushed against his shoulder and as if he had no strength of his own, Logan let his body fall upon the mattress. “Sleep.” Leith told him.
“Rest, child,” Ruth whispered reassuringly. “I’ll wake you if you’re needed.”
He should have protested. Hell, there was this little portion of his mind that was telling him to wake the fuck up. Yet, no matter what he did, he found himself burrowing deeper into the arms of sleep.
A loud clank startled Logan. A second one had him jumping to his feet before he remembered where he was. Thankfully, his body seemed to know or he would have banged his head on the bunkbed above him.
