Wild One

by Donna Augustine

  I hopped a little ways toward it, still holding on to my current tree as they all watched.

  Callon stared, arms crossed, both eyebrows raised.

  Zink shook his head and walked back to the fire. Hess was scratching his head.

  “You got this.” Koz stood beside me with a wide smile and a thumbs-up.

  It was hard not to smile back, but my cracked lip stopped me short. I pushed off the tree and managed to get my fingers wrapped around the next one.

  Koz moved forward with me. “There you go. You did it.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Callon said before an arm wrapped around my waist. I stiffened immediately as I was held against a hard chest. I might’ve screamed or fought, except all I managed was a squeak as his arm pressed against sore ribs. His arm shifted down immediately, removing the pressure, as if he’d known from that small noise, and might’ve cared.

  Not even five seconds later, I was set down by a log in front of the fire. As fast as he’d lifted me, his arm loosened slowly, allowing me to get my balance before he let go. I reached a hand out, using the log as support as I lowered myself to the ground, knowing it would be easier if I took a seat in front of the log, where I could stretch the broken leg out.

  Callon was standing in front of me, arms over his chest and eyes running their way up and down my frame. His jaw shifted slightly as his eyes moved from my leg to my midsection then up to my face. “How bad?”

  I hadn’t looked at my leg, or my ribs, mostly because I hadn’t wanted to. It was dark. He couldn’t know that it wasn’t a sprain and some bruising with my pants covering most of it.

  “Not horrible.” I looked away, signaling that the conversation was over.

  He squatted in front of me, near eye level, making it impossible to not see him.

  “I said I’d take you.” He continued to stare at me, as if he could force me to believe him.

  “Sure.” He couldn’t. I’d been told a lot of things in my life, and words didn’t mean diddly, especially if I met you five minutes ago and it took you much longer than that to look at me.

  Koz had made his way over to Callon’s side, standing slightly behind him. He gave me a short nod, silently backing Callon. I didn’t know Koz either, but he had tried to help me. He was the only reason I wasn’t getting dragged back to Turrock. Still, I squinted at him, silently asking if he was really sure about this.

  He nodded again but stopped as soon as Callon looked over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” Koz said, shrugging and walking around Callon like nothing was amiss.

  Callon turned his attention back to me, his shoulders blocking the fire. “Your leg?”

  “I think it’s broken.” That Koz guy better be right about trusting Callon or he was going to get a big punch in the nose as soon as he slept.

  “How long ago?” Callon asked. His hand was getting a little too close.

  I shooed away a hand that got too close. “Don’t touch it.”

  “I’m still looking. How long?” He angled his head this way and that, looking at it from every angle.

  “About a day. Why?” What was he going to do to it? I looked over at Koz, who nodded.

  Callon’s hand moved in my leg’s direction again.

  “I said, don’t touch it.” I slid back toward the log, away from him.

  His cool eyes met mine, his forearms resting on his legs. “I need to see it.”

  I didn’t let my eyes flicker away from his stare this time. “Why?” I demanded.

  He broke the stare first to shoot a look at Koz. I knew that look. I’d given it to Tuesday many times. It was something along the lines of: You really fucked us good this time. Apparently, Callon’s only emotions came wrapped up in sarcasm.

  Koz shrugged and gave him a surprised expression, as if having no clue what he meant.

  Callon turned back to me and let out a slow breath, as if girding himself, before meeting my accusatory stare again. “The next village is twenty miles away. I need to set this before we get there, or it might heal like that.” He pointed at my leg but didn’t touch it.

  I didn’t need to look to know what he meant. My leg had been butchered. I was lucky the bone hadn’t broken the skin. If I wanted a chance of being able to walk on it again, setting was a good idea. I knew that Marc, the healer from our village, always did that. Except when limps were the intended purpose of the break.

  What he was saying added up. If I had two bad legs, life would be a lot harder.

  I met his eyes and said, “Fine,” before I could think about it anymore.

  He gripped the hem of my pant leg and tore it up the center, all the way to my knee, before I could stop him.

  “Did you have to do that? It’s the only pair I have.” They’d picked up more tears when I’d been dragged through the forest but had still been in one piece—mostly.

  “I’ll get you another pair.”

  He acted like there was a little old woman sewing them under the tree a mile down the nonexistent road. “From where? You aren’t going to be able to get me new pants.”

  “I do what I say. If I say I’ll bring you to the next village, I will. If I say I’m going to get you a pair of pants, I will.”

  We were so busy arguing that it took both of us a minute to look down at my leg. But as soon as he turned his attention there, so did I. I’d never had a weak stomach, but I was ready to retch all over the place. My leg was mottled all different colors and nearly twice its normal size. Then there was the strange bend.

  He shifted so more of the firelight hit it as he stared. And kept staring. “How did this happen? It looks like—”

  “Does it matter? It’s broken.” I knew exactly what it looked like. I’d been there when it happened. I couldn’t imagine another way a person would get a break that precise in that place, unless it was a freak accident or intentional.

  He didn’t argue when he glanced up at me, but he knew. And I hated that he did. It made me want to retreat back into that place and be small again, where no one saw me.

  I couldn’t do it. My chest tightened and I blinked enough to look like I was sending out secret codes into the night, but not a single tear dropped. I held them all back.

  He sat quietly for a second, corded forearms resting on his legs again, his hands fisted. His profile silhouetted by the fire was hard to read. Was he mad at me? Was he going to tell Koz to drag me back again because I was too much work?

  I didn’t ask him to fix my leg. It was his idea. This was why I shouldn’t have told him. I knew it. Now he thought I was going to be too much trouble.

  “You don’t need to do anything. I’m fine. I didn’t ask for your help.”

  “I know that.” His words were as sharp as a knife’s edge. “And I can see what happened.”

  It wasn’t my fault. I knew that. So why was I suddenly mortified? Why did I want him to think anything else but that someone had done this to me?

  “I fell. I tripped on this…”

  He turned back to me, his fists unclenching but his stare nearly burning my flesh. The fire made his eyes look like there was a strange reddish glow to them.

  “Bad shit happens. You get better, you move on, and hopefully you kill everyone that hurt you.” He looked into the woods for a moment. “That last part about killing isn’t really necessary, but it tends to grease the wheels for the ‘moving on’ part.”

  It was the last thing I expected. Pity, irritation over how useless I was—that I was ready for. Suggesting I kill all my enemies? Totally unexpected. If I didn’t already hate him, I might’ve actually liked him. Or parts of him.

  “This is going to hurt. Hess? Give her your stash and don’t tell me you don’t have any left.” Callon stood and walked around the place, grabbing some sticks. I’d seen splints before, so I knew what he was about.

  “Got plenty.” Hess walked over and held out a small silver flask. “Take whatever you need.”

  I took the cont
ainer but paused halfway to my lips. “Is this going to knock me out?”

  Easing the pain wasn’t worth getting caught again if Turrock and his men snuck up on me in the middle of the night.

  Hess glanced at my leg and then said, “You’re not that lucky.”

  His words were just sardonic enough that I believed him. Koz came and squatted beside me. “I’ll wake you up if you pass out.”

  Callon came back with some strips of fabric and sticks that he laid beside me. “Koz, brace her upper leg,”

  Zink looked at the strips for a second. “Is that my shirt?” he asked.

  Callon ignored him, looking me square in the eye. “I’m going to have to pull it straight to fix it.”

  I’d figured as much, but that wasn’t really his point. He reached forward and put his finger underneath the flask, urging it closer to my lips. The message was abundantly clear. This was going to hurt. And bad.

  I finished lifting it to my lips and took another sip. Then a few more.

  Koz leaned forward, wrapping both hands around my leg, right above my knee, and I forced myself not to jerk away. The last time I’d had this many male hands on me, it hadn’t been to help.

  I put the flask down. Callon didn’t give me any warning as he pulled my ankle and Koz braced my upper leg.

  The pain felt like a million hammers all hitting me at once. It might’ve been worse than when it was broken in the first place. Luckily, or unluckily, I had some experience with pain and managed to hold it together by the thinnest thread.

  I kept my eyes closed, waiting for it to ease, and didn’t open them until I was back under control.

  When I finally opened them, Callon was lining up the sticks and wrapping my leg.

  He glanced up, pausing.

  He nodded at me, so slightly I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to have even noticed. But I had, and it felt like a pat on the back. The worst part of it was that something in me swelled at his approval.

  I didn’t need his approval. It had to be the booze.

  Not knowing what else to do, but knowing I needed to shift my attention, I held the flask up toward Hess. “Thanks.”

  He waved his hand toward me. “Finish it. You need it more than I do,” he said, walking away.

  “Try not to move it until we break camp tomorrow morning,” Callon said, standing and walking to the other side of the fire as if he was happy to put a little space between us.

  Wait, did he just say we were staying here tonight? In the Wilds, in the middle of the night, with no shelter? How were these guys alive if this was what they did? There was a beast around. I’d just hitched a ride with it.

  “Here?”

  “Yes,” Callon said, his back still to me.

  “But what about the beasts? We know one is nearby. He didn’t eat me the first time, but that doesn’t mean he won’t change his mind. Maybe he was just full?”

  Callon laughed. “It’ll be fine.”

  I caught Koz making a funny face, like he’d heard a bad joke.

  No one else said anything.

  I was stuck with crazy people.

  6

  Koz was poking at the fire, where a big chunk of meat cooked on a makeshift spit. I didn’t know where the meat came from, but Koz had mad hunting skills. He’d left for ten minutes and managed to catch a turkey in that time. My mouth wouldn’t stop watering, my taste buds screaming in anticipation, because I knew he’d be the one person here who’d share.

  I was watching his hand turn the stick when it went still. His head turned, and tilted slightly, raising his ear skyward. Zink and Hess, both sitting on the other side of the fire, got to their feet. By the time I located Callon, all I saw was his back as he walked into the woods.

  Turrock was here, or more likely his men. They’d followed me, even into the night. They hadn’t waited until dawn. How much were they getting for me that they’d risk the beasts that roamed the Wilds after sundown?

  Callon didn’t want me here to begin with. He’d surely hand me over for a loose coin or two, no matter what Koz said.

  Or maybe the beast had returned? I hoped it was the beast. He hadn’t liked the smell of me the first time, so he wouldn’t come for me. He’d try and eat one of them. Maybe he’d eat Zink, the one who’d talked about me like I was another dog Koz had picked up. I couldn’t say I wanted Zink dead, but I wouldn’t complain if he had a nip or two taken out of him by the end of the night.

  They were all waiting for Callon to come back. I was waiting to be dragged away—or hear screams. Callon didn’t look the type to carry on, though. He’d probably go down silently if the beast got him.

  Hess and Zink didn’t move, but Koz dropped his stick and came closer to me. His eyes stayed on the trees but his hand patted the air in my direction. I ignored his all’s good gesture and surveyed the area for a stick of my own in case it was Turrock’s men. I couldn’t hop reliably with this leg wrapped, but I’d get a couple good swings in before they got me.

  There, a few feet away, was a nice-looking one, good thickness and length. I shuffled my butt over. My fingers wrapped around it just as a scream, “Get off me!” cut the silence.

  “Tuesday?” I clambered up to my good foot and immediately wobbled.

  “Teddy, what are you doing?” Koz grabbed me under the arm.

  I tried to hop forward, Koz moving with me, as I followed the sound of rustling in the woods.

  “Teddy?” she yelled back.

  A second later, she crashed through the woods. Callon was behind her, gripping the back of her shirt. He wasn’t looking at her or me. He was staring at Koz, with the you really fucked up this time expression back on, as loud as if he screamed it across the camp.

  “Great. It’s multiplying,” Zink said.

  “Holy shit, it is like the dog,” Hess said.

  “This is not my fault,” Koz said.

  I didn’t care how pissed off Callon was, or how Hess was saying we were like some dog. I didn’t care if they all had a meltdown. Tuesday had braved the Wilds after sunset to help me.

  I yanked my arm away from Koz, who was distracted by all the grief heading his way. I took a nosedive halfway there but didn’t crash-land. An arm looped around my hips, swinging me back up before I hit the ground. I knew it was Callon’s without looking down. Somehow his smell had already imprinted on my mind. It was probably some deeply buried instinct to register danger. At least he was avoiding my sensitive spots.

  Instead of letting me go, he hoisted me a foot off the ground as he walked away from Tuesday.

  “Let me go!” I grabbed at his arm, trying to dislodge it from me.

  “Teddy!” Tuesday screamed from somewhere behind us.

  He turned back around, and then I was facing Tuesday again. I didn’t know what Callon looked like, but I saw her jaw drop. Her fists froze as she took a good look at her opponent.

  “Stop. Hitting. My. Back.” He hoisted me up another couple inches and pointed with his free hand. “See that leg?” He waited until she nodded. “I’m not resetting it because she’s drunk and falling all over the place. You can have your reunion after I put her over there.”

  He pointed to the log I’d been sitting by.

  “Oh.” Tuesday’s fists dropped.

  “Okay, then.” I dislodged my nails from his arm, with only a minimal amount of his skin underneath them and a very small amount of blood.

  “Thank you,” Callon said, not sounding appreciative at all as he marched over and placed me on the aforementioned log. He didn’t linger after he disposed of my body, heading straight for Koz.

  Tuesday immediately sat beside me and wrapped her arms around my neck, as if her intention was to strangle me. I could barely breathe and I didn’t care. I hugged her back even harder.

  “You’re taking care of them,” Callon said to Koz, not ten feet from us.

  “To give him his due, he did feed the dogs,” Hess said as he stepped over to them.

  Tuesday’s grip loosened
as she leaned back. “Are they calling us dogs?”

  “Ignore them. You ran into the Wilds?”

  Her face broke into a wide smile I hadn’t seen since she raided Baryn’s private stash and got away with it.

  She leaned in and sniffed. “Are you drunk? You do smell a little bit like booze.”

  “Barely.” I held up two fingers with a sliver of space between them. “How did you get here?”

  “I saw the beast drag you out and I followed while the rest of them were too busy trying to find wood to block the hole. They were scrambling around and screaming when I slipped out. The thing moved too quickly to keep up, but your body left a wide trail. Once I lost the trail, I wandered.”

  Tuesday had been known to scream at a mouse on occasion. She could say whatever she wanted. My heart warmed ten degrees.

  I threw my arms around her again. “You could’ve been killed.”

  “Don’t give me too much credit. It was running away from me, not at me.” She shrugged in my hug. “I sure as hell wasn’t staying in that hellhole alone.”

  How many times had I told her to go, find something better, and she’d insisted she wanted to be there? That she didn’t think the place was that bad, so she’d hang out and wait.

  I pulled back but kept my voice low, very aware that we weren’t alone. Callon was still busy giving Koz a hard time, but he wasn’t delusional. That man saw everything. I had a hunch that the more you didn’t want him to see, the more his evil eyes focused. He didn’t need to overhear our business. “So you’re sure no one followed?”

  “I didn’t see anyone.” She looked me over. “How did you end up in one piece? I thought beasts ate people?”

  “I don’t know. It grabbed me and then I passed out. When I woke up, they were there.” I tilted my head toward the guys.

  Tuesday turned, taking in the men, her eyes lingering on Callon. She scooted closer until her shoulder brushed mine.

  “Some of them look a little scary,” she said. “But it looks like they set your leg, so I guess they can’t be that bad.”