Alive (Sundown Series Book 3)

by Courtney Konstantin

  “They were after you. They were supposed to break in quietly, take you, and leave.”

  “US Government soldiers are after me? That’s how important this is to them?” Charlie began to do what she always did when upset, she paced.

  “I guess. I don’t think these men knew why they were getting you. Just that they were ordered to do so,” Rafe replied.

  “They want to cover up what they’ve done. They want to hide that this plague, was caused by research and work they had us doing in their hidden facility. And I have all the info needed to prove it,” Charlie said, reaching behind her to touch her bug out bag.

  “Right. And my guess is someone, probably 'The Suit', knows you have that information. It’s why you were ran off the road, it’s why your house was ransacked. And somehow, they put two and two together and realized you were with me out here. So, they thought it would be an easy strike.”

  “They clearly didn’t know who you were,” Charlie replied.

  “Not many do. Part of my father’s teachings was always to keep a low profile and keep our home with its security a secret.”

  Rafe turned back in the direction he was wanting to go. His mind was going a little fuzzy and he could feel the adrenaline leaving his bloodstream, causing him to crash. His steps began to slow, feeling like he was trudging through quicksand. He shook his head violently trying to bring everything back into focus as he sat on a large fallen log to go over it. Charlie easily followed, and he could see her watching him from the corner of his eye.

  On the other side of the tree, he stopped for a moment to put the packs down he was carrying. Charlie had carried the heavy med back to the wall, while Rafe was fighting. Now he was struggling on the weight of so much packed into the bag. His bug out bag was feeling like it weighed as much as he did. He dropped it to the ground and he fished out a bottle of water he had inside. He took a few drinks, testing the sensation in his stomach. It was cool and welcomed so he drank more.

  “Rafe?” Charlie finally asked, standing next to him. He just looked at her as his vision began to feel unfocused again.

  “Are you alright?” Charlie said.

  “I think....we....should bind my wound,” Rafe said weakly before he collapsed at Charlie’s feet.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Watching Rafe fall was the scariest thing for Charlie that night. It didn’t matter they were running from soldiers determined to kidnap her. It didn’t matter that she had seen Rafe kill more than one man. Even when Rafe hadn’t arrived at the door in the wall right behind her, part of her knew he was on his way. None of that caused the panic-stricken feeling she could feel welling up as she looked at Rafe on the floor of the forest.

  “Rafe, Rafe,” Charlie said, as loudly as she dared. She crouched next to him, patting his face lightly trying to bring him around.

  Charlie immediately went into doctor mode. Though the last few years she had been working in labs, she had done the rotations necessary in the emergency rooms and private practices that were required for her Ph.D. Crouching next to Rafe, she first checked his pulse and found it weak. She finally was able to pull up his shirt and look at the wound he continually pushed her away from. She hissed as she looked at the perfect black hole that was in his side. She reached behind and found the exit wound and that was a welcome relief. She was pretty sure the bullet hadn’t hit any major arteries or organs.

  Turning to the medical bag from the facility, Charlie had to shush Storm who was whining at Rafe’s feet. He was clearly concerned for one of his new friends, but Charlie couldn’t concentrate while worrying about the dog as well. Storm set his face on his paws and just watched Charlie as she moved. She unzipped the medical bag, throwing the entire thing open. She was grateful to see the overabundance of items that were kept in the bag.

  Looking around, Charlie felt nervous using any sort of light in the woods. What if the men followed them? What if there were infected in the trees? She knew she couldn’t stitch up Rafe’s wounds without adequate light and it definitely needed stitches. Her mind moved through the options she had. Rafe needed fluids first, his pressure needed to be handled. She pulled out a bag of saline solution and hung it from a small branch above their heads. She put a flashlight in her mouth and carefully stuck Rafe in the arm to run the line. With the fluid going full open, she started to decide what to do with their shelter situation.

  Rafe had collapsed next to a large fallen log. They were in the v of that log and a large tree. Charlie started to sort through what was in their bug out bags and pulled out the green tarp Rafe had decided to shove in her bag. It was large enough to cover Rafe and leave room for her to lay if she were to sleep. She attached one side of the tarp to the standing tree, wrapping a piece of paracord through the hole of the tarp, and around the tree. Tying it off, she then grabbed the farthest side and stretched it down and taunt. She then tied that end off on the fallen log near Rafe’s feet.

  She stood back and looked at her handiwork. She liked that the green was mostly matching their surroundings. But if someone came close it would be obvious. Charlie looked around and decided to lay fallen branches across the tarp. At least those would be slightly more camouflage for them. Rafe would know a better way to do this, Charlie thought to herself. But right now, Rafe needed her to figure things out. He could tell her later what she did wrong.

  Charlie had to stoop and crawl to get back under the tarp. She reached behind her and pulled some of the branches to hide the light she was going to turn on to see Rafe’s wound. Storm didn’t like the close quarters, Charlie could tell as he adjusted his position a few times. She scratched him behind the ears and settled him before turning back to Rafe. She pulled out the lantern that had been packed in her bug out bag. The light was stark against the darkness, but she could see Rafe clearly now.

  “You should probably stay out for this. That way I don’t have to worry about any pain you might feel,” Charlie said to Rafe’s sleeping form.

  She ran her hands under alcohol before getting out the tools she needed. There was a package of sterilized medical tools and Charlie wondered what a security medical bag was doing with them. Ripping open the bag that held the surgical suture kit, Charlie carefully placed it on the sleeping bag she had laid out. Using the scissors, she cut open the front of Rafe’s shirt, leaving the exit wound resting on the backside of the shirt instead of the forest floor.

  Charlie cursed quietly seeing the wound again. She hadn’t known Rafe long but seeing him incapacitated didn’t seem possible. He was a force to be reckoned with. A storm that took out anything that tried to get in his path. He was strong and capable. However, Charlie knew from her time in the ER, blood loss would take down the biggest man the same as the smallest frail person. She sat and studied his body a little longer than necessary. The only other time she had seen him without a shirt was a surprise and burned into her brain. He was a handsome man, she could admit to herself.

  With gloved hands, Charlie cleansed his wound with the sterile liquids in the suture kit. Squeezing the hole together she used the pre-threaded needle to make small stitches. She leaned close, moving the lantern to be right by his side. She wanted to make the stitches as close as possible, though she doubted Rafe was concerned by scars. She noticed a number of other small scars on his chest and arms, from accidents during his training and chores she assumed. Once the stitches were completed, she easily tied it off with the ease of a practiced physician. She slathered it in antibiotic cream and taped a piece of gauze over the cleaned and prepped wound.

  Sitting back on her heels, Charlie was feeling accomplished having the one wound stitched. Now she needed to turn him to his stomach, so she could get to the other. The space being what it was, she was going to have a chore of moving him. She slid the sleeping bag closer to him and carefully rolled him onto it. She had to turn his head, to ensure he could still breathe while lying on his front. She adjusted his IV line to make sure it wasn’t hung up on anything and was still flowing. Before
starting the second set of stitches she checked his pulse again. It was feeling stronger and she was so thankful.

  Repeating the steps she’d done with the front wound, she stitched his back carefully. Rafe twitched once, causing Charlie to hold her breath thinking he might wake. But he didn’t move again, and she continued the delicate sutures. Once she had the back covered in ointment and gauze, she carefully removed the rest of the tattered shirt. She knew he had something else in his bag. She removed his boots, leaving the rest of his clothing to deal with later. Carefully she then maneuvered him into the opening of the sleeping bag, bending his legs to get him completely in. She left the arm out with the IV and covered his chest.

  She guessed it was almost dawn. Her strength was waning, she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She positioned her bag next to his. Charlie prided herself on making sure the shotgun was near her and his weapons were within reach. Everything else she left at the foot of their shelter. Storm nosed his way up to lay between them and Charlie fell asleep with her hand on his head.

  Sunlight streamed across Charlie’s face, waking her from a dark dream. She couldn’t find Rafe. Somehow, she was lost in the forest and the trees were hiding the horrors of the infected. Each turn she made she came in contact with a corpse trying to grab her and make her their meal. She screamed for Rafe, but he never came. In her dream, she was sure something had happened to him and she ran blindly trying to pinpoint where he had gone.

  She shook herself, wiping away the darkness of the memory. Leaning over, she reassured herself that Rafe was still breathing and alive. She checked his eyes, finding them to be the normal blue and pupils to be reactionary. But he wasn’t waking up. And that worried Charlie. She checked his head again, making sure there wasn’t a wound she missed. Not finding anything, she sat up awkwardly in the little shelter. She looked around, a little proud of how she had protected them throughout the night.

  Storm whined, and Charlie moved the branches blocking their entrance for him. He darted out sniffing. Charlie was thankful to have him. Without the security of the compound surrounding them, Storm was her early warning sign for any approaching danger. He was a good animal, clearly trained by someone that had time and knowledge. Charlie wondered what happened to the family that had him before. Storm came back into the shelter carefully, like he didn’t trust Charlie’s construction.

  “Hey, I kept us safe last night, right?” Charlie said to him sarcastically. He licked her face and she laughed.

  Charlie’s stomach growled, and she was surprised she could be hungry. The night had been so panicked and hectic, something she had never dealt with or had been prepared for. Her body clearly didn’t care about the events of the night before. It only knew when it needed fuel. Storm looked at her expectantly and she knew the dog was hungry too. Digging into the bag of dog food she had thrown together, she opened a can and set it in front of him. He dug in immediately with vigor. She touched his ear, reveling in the softness of his fur. Without breaking his onslaught of his food, Storm pushed his body toward Charlie, insisting she pet him.

  “You are quite the attention hog, aren’t you?” Charlie asked. But she still abided by petting him for a few moments before her stomach reminded her that she needed to eat.

  Her bladder also calling attention to itself, Charlie decided relieving herself was the first need. She poked her head out of the shelter and looked around. She trusted Storm’s instincts and knew he would have let her know if something was in the woods. However, her own brain was still on the verge of fear and imagined every bad thing that could happen. Eventually, she crawled from the shelter and stretched her arms above her head. Looking back at the little shelter she built she was pleased to see that it was well hidden between the trees and branches that she used.

  With her business done she pulled out her bag to find something to eat. A can of fruit cocktail seemed like a good choice and she sat against the fallen log. Storm came out of the shelter again and wandered around the area. Charlie shoveled fruit into her mouth while watching the dog for any sign of danger. He happily played, running around trees and coming back to Charlie dropping sticks at her feet. She would throw them, but he would bring more than one back and she wondered if he was playing or doing something else. By the time Charlie finished her can of fruit, there was a pile of wood by the shelter. Storm stood watching her, waiting for praise.

  “Are you collecting wood on purpose?” Charlie asked him.

  The dog yipped at her and laid on his back next to her leg. She rubbed his stomach realizing someone had trained him in survival tactics. It was as if this dog was meant to be with Rafe because training him in survival seemed like something right up his alley. Whoever the family was to the beautiful husky, they’d clearly loved him very much. And sadly, Charlie knew they had perished, because Storm would never have been on his own if they were still alive.

  “Maybe I should work on this shelter?” Charlie said.

  She stood looking at what she had concocted in the dark and she was proud of it. But if Rafe slept much longer, they would need something a little better for another night. She checked his vitals first, happy to see his pressure regulating and his color returning to normal. She checked both of his wound sites, noting no signs of infection or seepage. Nodding to herself, she felt like her stitch work was adequate and she replaced medications and bandages for the time being. She removed the IV line and just knew it was a waiting game for his body to allow him to wake up. Beyond the wounds, Rafe was probably exhausted from blood loss and a crash after his adrenaline left his body.

  Collecting additional large branches wasn’t hard. She found a folding ax in Rafe’s bug out bag. Using that, she chopped some smaller branches from fallen trees. Propping these up against the fallen tree they laid near, she was able to lift the height of the tarp above their heads. The night had been chilly, but in her exhaustion, Charlie hadn’t felt extremely cold. She slept solidly. Thinking of another night in the freezing cold made her shiver in the sunshine she stood in. She took the wood that Storm had collected and made a pile near the entrance of the tent. At the fall of darkness, she would light it if Rafe wasn’t awake to do it himself.

  By mid-afternoon, Charlie sat next to Rafe’s head. Minutes passed, and she found herself more and more concerned that he wasn’t waking on his own. She checked his pupils again and found normal reactions to light. She felt mostly positive that he didn’t have a head injury, but she didn’t know about the fight he had with the mercenaries before he reached her at the door.

  Thinking back to their escape, she ran her hand over his closely cropped dark hair. He had risked so much to protect her, to save her from a group of men that would have taken her. They would have taken her to 'The Suit' and whoever else wanted to hide this plague. They wanted to silence her and the fact they created the plague that was wiping out the country.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Rafe woke, to Charlie calling his name and smacking his face lightly. He looked up at her and realized it was bright and light out. Panic welled in his chest. We aren’t far enough away from the house, he thought to himself. He tried to sit up, but Charlie pushed his shoulder. He was feeling so weak, it was easy for her to do. He laid back and looked up again, realizing it wasn’t the trees he was looking at. It was a green tarp and he was lying next to a log.

  “What happened?” Rafe asked.

  “You passed out,” Charlie replied simply.

  “I got that much. Where are we?”

  “Still around the area you fell. I couldn’t move you far. You’re heavy,” Charlie said.

  “You hid us?”

  “Yes. I used a tarp to protect us, but also covered it with fallen branches. We’re between a couple of logs, so unless someone is right on top of us we wouldn’t be spotted. Storm will tell me if someone comes,” she said, gesturing to the dog that was laying at Rafe’s feet. He barked once when Rafe lifted his head looking at him.

  “You built a shelter?”

>   “You don’t have to sound so surprised,” she shot back.

  “How long have I been out?” He asked, safely changing the subject.

  “About twelve hours I think. I didn’t look at the clock last night. A lot was happening.”

  Rafe tested his body while lying there inside the sleeping bag. He wondered how she was able to get him into the bag, moving his body around on her own. Running an inventory, Rafe found everything to be in working order, except a tight painful sensation in his side. He ran his hand down his body, finding no shirt and a bandage on the front of his abdomen. Reaching behind, he found a matching one on his back.

  “I stitched you up. It was a clean through shot, so it wasn’t too hard. No major organs or arteries hit,” Charlie said, noticing his evaluation and answered the questions in his head.

  “You stitched me up?”

  “I’m a doctor, you know. I had to do real doctor stuff before working at the CDC. And you had some great supplies. You carry sterilized suture kits. Get shot often?” She joked.

  “No. But you obviously never know when you’ll need stitches,” Rafe said.

  “Clearly. How do you feel otherwise?”

  “A little weak, but only slight pain in the injured areas.”

  “You lost quite a bit of blood by the time you passed out. I tried to get some fluids back in you by a bag of saline. Once your pressure came up, I figured you wouldn’t want me to waste the second bag if not needed,” Charlie explained.

  “Good call. I’m starving. Can I eat?” Rafe asked.

  “Yeah of course. Want an MRE?”

  “Have you eaten?” Rafe asked.

  “Sure. I had a can of fruit earlier,” Charlie said.

  “That’s it?”

  “I was busy doing things. Oh, and the strangest thing. Storm collected wood for a fire,” Charlie said, gesturing again to the dog, who was slowly inching his way closer to them.