by J. Thorn
“Help? What do you mean?”
“Anyone with some medical knowledge or herbal remedies. You’re infected. Like, bad.”
Hado managed the strength to sit up straight. “No. We can’t trust anyone. It’s not safe.”
“I’ll tell you what it’s not. It’s not your choice.”
“But they could kill us for the horses. For Decker.”
“And you will absolutely die if we don’t get you help.” Dia shook her head, choking back tears. “I can’t make it to Denver without you. I won’t. So, this is what we’re doing. You’re in no condition to think clearly for yourself.”
Deep down, underneath the pain and the denial, Hado knew Dia was right. She couldn’t ride for much longer. Hado could barely grasp Ree’s reins, let alone stay on top of her horse. She looked into Dia’s eyes, remembering the fiery defiance of her own youth. Although the memories had mostly faded, she recognized the same spirit in Dia.
The girl dismounted Piva, allowing her horse to walk alongside Ree as she leaped up and swung a leg over the saddle behind Hado.
“What are you doing?”
“You can’t ride. For the last ten miles, I’ve been waiting for you to fall off her. Lean back into me and, and don’t let go of the reins.”
Hado turned Ree then, and they started north into the city from the Amtrak station.
They led the horses down the middle of the main street, and Hado closed her eyes. She didn’t want to disappoint the girl, but this mountain town sat as deserted as all the rest they’d been through. Windowless buildings looked down upon them while ancient cars sat on the curb. The trees had reclaimed the residential streets, and wild grasses covered what had once been bustling sidewalks filled with shoppers and parking meter maids. Even in the low light of the moon, Hado could tell that nobody had been through the town in years.
Hado kept her hands on the rope, though, leaning back on the girl. Dia didn’t complain, and she remained upright on the horse.
“Hello?” Dia said, calling out. “Is anyone there?”
“What are you doing?”
“How do you expect me to find anyone to help you?”
“If they’re gangs or clans, then you’re bringing them right to us.”
“Stop talking.”
Hado frowned, but she didn’t have the strength to bicker.
Dia continued calling out, saying she had someone who was badly injured. Her voice bounced off the brick buildings, becoming more shrill and thin as her pleas went unanswered.
A mile or so down the road, they came to the other side of the small town. Hado pulled back on the reins, stopping Ree as Piva stopped beside them. She sighed, looking from one empty house to another.
Hado gasped suddenly, her eyes rolling up into the back of her head.
“Hado!”
The Venganza warrior had slumped to the side, her hands dropping the reins. Dia grabbed Hado by the shirt, and grunted as she pulled Hado upright. Hado leaned back against her again.
“That’s it, we have to stop.” She kicked Ree into a slow walk, approaching a nearby building.
Hado came aware again, and tried to focus her vision on the path they were taking; they were headed for a log cabin.
Dia brought the horses to a stop in front of it. She was careful as she dismounted, making sure that Hado didn’t fall over.
“Can you dismount on your own?” Dia asked. “I’m not sure if I can help you down by myself without letting you fall.”
Hado nodded. She swung one leg over, and Dia guided her foot down to the ground. Hado eased off the horse, dropping into Dia’s arms as her other foot slipped from the stirrup. Dia put Hado’s arm around her and headed for the front door of the cabin, pausing only briefly to tie the horses’ reins off to the porch.
The cabin door was locked. She took a step back, Hado still leaning against her. Then, Dia yelped as she kicked the door down.
Years of cold mountain winds had blown leaves and paper into the northwest corner of the room, where the debris nearly reached the ceiling. Water had either found its way beneath the shingles or flowed back from a clogged gutter, and there was a gaping hole in the ceiling with rotted wood on the floor beneath it. Surprisingly, a few chairs sat around a wooden table against one wall, all with nothing but a layer of dust on them. A sofa had been pulled close to the fireplace, too, but again the dust suggested that the move had been made years ago.
Dia dropped Hado into the couch, sending a blast of motes into the air that made them both cough.
“Stay here. I’m going to see if there’s anything in this cabin that can help you.” Dia looked at Decker. “Come on, buddy.”
Hado stared at the hole in the ceiling, her vision still cloudy. But it felt good to be horizontal on a soft surface which had been designed for relaxation, her legs aching from days spent in the saddle. She listened as Dia rummaged through the kitchen cabinets first and then through the rest of the house. The girl cursed, obviously finding nothing that would help with Hado’s infection.
Dia reappeared in the living room for only a moment before racing out the back door, Decker trailing behind her. Left alone, Hado put her hand on her arm, but even the lightest touch brought an explosion of stars in her head.
When Dia came back inside, she was crying.
Hado looked over. The girl stood near the back door, her back to Hado and her head down.
Gritting her teeth, Hado used her good arm to push up against the sofa. She grunted as she made it to her feet, garnering Dia’s attention.
“No,” Dia said. “Lay down.”
Hado raised her hand, signaling for Dia to stop. Then she hobbled over to the girl. Dia’s eyes filled with tears as Hado wrapped her arms around her.
“Everything’s going to be all right.”
“Not if I can’t find something to help you.”
“I’m going to be fine.”
Hado hated the bitterness of the lie, but she needed Dia to hear it. She ran her hand up and down the girl’s back. Then she opened her eyes and gazed out through the opened kitchen door. She pulled away from Dia, her eyes focused on the backyard.
“What is it?”
Hado stepped around Dia and stumbled through the door. Decker was still out there, standing on the patio and wagging his tail.
“What do you see?” Dia asked.
Hado stumbled from the patio, steadied herself, and then walked across the yard to the remains of a shed. She bent down and picked something up off of a log.
Dia scrunched up her face. “Why are you holding an ax?”
“It’s how you’re going to help me.”
“What?”
Hado approached Dia and handed the ax to her.
“You need to start a fire, and then we’ll get on with it.”
“Get on with what? I don’t understand, Hado.”
“No medication will save me. The only chance I have is to get rid of the source of the infection.” Hado looked down at her arm.
“What?” Dia’s eyes went wide. “No, I can’t.”
“You have to. Amputating my arm is the only thing that will save my life. I’ll still have my dominant right hand for throwing and fighting.”
“That’s insane! There has to be another way. I don’t even know what I’m doing! I’m no doctor.”
“I’m a warrior, Dia. I’ve done amputations before. I can walk you through it, the best I know how.”
“I could kill you.”
“Yes. But if you don’t do it, I’ll definitely die.”
Dia turned away, but Hado took the girl by the chin with her uninjured arm and made her look at her.
“You have to do this. I know you can.”
After a minute’s pause, Dia nodded. Then she sniffled and wiped the tears away.
“Just tell me what to do.”
“Start a fire. We’ll need to raise the temperature inside the cabin so I don’t go into shock, and use the flames to sanitize the blade as best we can.”
Dia followed Hado inside while Decker stayed in the backyard. The girl then used an old shirt to wipe the dust off the surface of the table, and followed Hado’s instructions as they got ready for what came next.
Hado removed the bandage from her arm, the rotten stench becoming stronger as she pulled away the cloth. The cold air burned her wound, and she wanted to dig into the swollen, red flesh with her fingernails. She sensed Dia wincing once the wound was exposed, and looked up at her with watery eyes.
Hado sat down and laid her arm on the table.
“Do you have the tourniquet?”
Dia held up the old shirt after snapping it several times to dispel the dust she’d wiped from the table.
“Tie it off above the wound. And remember, it has to be really tight.”
Dia followed the instructions. At first, she didn’t pull it tight enough, but after Hado complained, Dia pulled harder. Hado bit her lip and grimaced. Then she took a deep breath and gestured toward the center of the room.
“Take a few practice swings. Try to hit a seam in the floorboards.”
Dia closed her eyes, opened them, and drew a deep breath; then she lifted the ax, and swung.
The blade missed the seam by six inches.
Shit.
“Sorry,” Dia said. “I’ll try again.”
“Please do.” The ax would have gone into Hado’s neck if that swing had been the amputation attempt.
Dia tried again, and this time she came within two inches of the seam.
“Good. Try more.”
She straightened her shoulders and took an even, measured swing, lodging the blade perfectly between two floorboards. Then another. And another. And another.
Three out of four. That’s about as good as it’s going to get.
“All right,” Hado said. “I think that’s enough practice.”
As Dia walked over to the table, Hado swallowed. She wanted to think Dia could do this. And she had to make sure Dia knew she could. But in her own mind, she just wasn’t sure. She relaxed her left arm, hoping she wouldn’t tense up when Dia swung.
Hado pointed to the spot Dia needed to aim for, and closed her eyes. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Do you want me to count down from five or something?”
“No. I just want you to do it. Aim for just below the tourniquet, and swing. Don’t overthink it.”
Hado sat back in her chair, waiting for the moment. She hadn’t heard Dia move yet, but could hear the girl breathing heavily.
“You can do this, Dia. I know you can.”
The girl didn’t respond, still hesitating. Out of the corner of her eye, though, Hado saw Dia lift the ax after another moment. Again, the teenager hesitated.
“But what if—”
“Now!”
Dia grunted as she reared back.
“I’m sorry.” Dia cried out as she swung.
Hado screamed.
Chapter 25
To make the journey safely, she knew she’d need a strong right hand. With Sunji in pursuit of Hado, Shiva decided to take a second look at the recruits.
She stood upon the bluff overlooking the field her warriors had used for drills. Years ago, they had cut down the trees and fenced off the area—more so to keep out the children and gawkers than Los Muertos. The gang rarely ventured this close to Erehwon. Since then, the grass had been trampled by thousands of Venganza warriors, with their blood nourishing the sacred ground.
Her most seasoned lieutenants had called the girls out for an afternoon of training. Shiva could see by the numbers that the Venganza’s ranks had thinned, both in terms of the warriors leading the exercises and the girls of age participating in them. The young women had to be trained, and yet, so much of the day-to-day responsibilities for maintaining their village just couldn’t be completed by the older women.
But today was not a day to worry about what she would have to convince the Council to do to save the settlement. This afternoon, she had come to scout the girls—to see which of them had the instincts needed to take the Venganza into the future.
“Wrestling,” said one of Shiva’s lieutenants to the four girls sitting at her feet. “You could find yourself in a fight without a weapon, so you must be able to not only defend, but to go on the offensive. Attack.”
River sat practically on the lieutenant’s toes. She had pulled her hair back and up to keep it from getting in the way. Without even seeing her face, Shiva knew the girl had focused her hard, sharp, blue eyes on the instructor. Despite her focus, there was no doubt that River’s thin, wiry frame could be deceiving to an assailant. And that was all the more reason for Shiva to watch the exercises today.
“Who’s up first?”
The girls looked around at one another, but River’s hand was already up and waving.
“River. Quinn. You two first.”
River was soon on her feet and crouched over, her arms wide and a scowl on her face. Shiva laughed to herself and shook her head. The girl thought she appeared menacing—and maybe she did to Quinn.
“Remember what I showed you. Step one is to get your opponent on the ground. Step two is submission.”
Both girls nodded as they faced each other in the combatant’s circle bordered by small rocks and chunks of red brick scavenged from a nearby ruin. The other girls took three steps back, and the lieutenant climbed atop a boulder to gain a better vantage point of the match and to offer advice from above.
Shiva didn’t know Quinn that well yet. The girl appeared to be of average weight, but was at least a foot taller than River. It also gave the girl an advantage in her reach. But River didn’t hesitate. She rushed at Quinn, head down.
The taller girl spun, and River’s face slammed into the dirt as she stumbled to the ground.
“Shit,” Shiva mumbled. If the girl couldn’t even win a wrestling match, there was no hope for her in the ruins. Or beyond.
The Venganza lieutenant screamed at River from on top of the boulder, and the other girls hollered as Quinn walked around to stand at River’s head. When she squatted to taunt River, however, a closed fist came up so quickly that only a gasp came from the girls observing the match.
Shiva leaned in as if this would help her see what had transpired, but before she could process what had taken place, River was on top of Quinn, pummeling the girl with her fists. She’d grabbed one of the red bricks when she’d hit the ground and pulled it beneath her body, waiting for Quinn to come at her. And when the taller girl had bent over, River had struck her with a brick that had smashed hard into Quinn’s face.
Shiva chuckled and shook her head, seeing the blood pouring from Quinn’s nose. The Venganza lieutenant pulled River off the girl while the others helped Quinn to her feet.
“I didn’t say you could use a weapon.”
“You didn’t say I couldn’t.”
The lieutenant’s hand connected with a hard crack to the side of River’s face, the sound of it taking a split second to reach Shiva.
“Go back to your hut and wait. You will be brought before Shiva for this.”
Yes. She definitely will.
Chapter 26
15 Days West of Erehwon
Hado opened her eyes when she heard the bark come from the backyard.
She lifted her head up and stared at the back door. When it opened, Decker came inside first. Flakes of white snow hung in his fur and he shook himself to work some of the wetness out.
Dia strode into the cabin behind him. She wore the heavy coat she’d brought from the settlement, as well as a hat that covered her ears. In her hand, she held a trio of squirrels. Even with the food in hand, though, she sighed as she approached the fire, trying to get warm.
“This is all I could find.” Dia lay the squirrels down. “Good news is that I got this.” She lifted a pot filled with snow. “I’ll set this next to the fire and, before you know it, we’ll have fresh water.”
“Very smart. And the squirrel will be fine. Thank you for go
ing out to fetch something for us to eat.”
Shifting from where she lay, Hado winced. Even the slightest movement sent a wave of pain through her arm. However, the fever had lessened, and she had to hope that Dia had cut out the infection—which would keep it from spreading—but it would be weeks before Hado would be past the risk of a secondary infection.
“It’s not a problem.” Dia removed her wet hat and whipped her hair loose. She let it dry by the fire for a moment before pulling it up into a ponytail. Then she came closer to Hado and kneeled next to her. “I need to change the bandage again.”
It had been less than twenty-four hours since the amputation, and Hado still hadn’t come to terms with her loss. She’d heard from Venganza warriors who’d lost arms or legs that they’d suffered ghost pains—where someone had a limb removed, but it felt like it was still attached, and aching. Hado had experienced this several times, instinctively wanting to reach out and pick something up or even bring her nonexistent hand up to her nose to scratch it.
“The horses are resting. I hid them under a lean-to behind a nearby house. They’re grazing on some herbs and grasses and drinking from upturned buckets filled with melted water.”
“Good.” As Dia changed the bandage, Hado couldn’t bring herself to look at the space where her arm had been.
Dia worked quickly, however. She was getting good at it. Hado had noticed the girl becoming good at a lot of things, in fact. Since Dia had been taken into Erehwon, she had constantly been protected and monitored. This journey had begun with Hado’s objective being to keep the girl safe. But over the last several days, she’d watched the teen come into her own. And it seemed the successful amputation had given Dia even more confidence.
“I’m going to get those squirrels ready to eat.”
Dia took the squirrels into the other room and set them on the table. Hado watched her through the door as she used a knife to skin the animals. She looked as if she’d been doing this her entire life, whereas Hado knew the girl hadn’t learned how to skin an animal until she’d gotten to Erehwon, now over one year ago. She prepared the meat, put several pieces on a spit, and began to turn it. Decker sat on the floor next to the fireplace.
