Unlikely Allies (14 page)

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Authors: Tiffany King

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance

BOOK: Unlikely Allies
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I took a deep breath to shake off my irrational behavior and began to take stock of the situation. "First and foremost, I need to find Mason," I said out loud. It felt good to break up the silence that cloaked me like an unwanted blanket. I knew I’d appear loony talking to myself, but hearing any noise besides the pouring rain gave me a small degree of comfort, even if it was only my voice.

My head still felt like a freight train had used it for a demo run, but I paid it no mind as I began to make my way along the uneven ground at the base of the mountain. Being able to see
where I was going gave me some security as I made my way over rocks and downed branches that would have tripped me up in the dark. Every so often, I wou
ld holler Mason's name as I zig
zagged my way down to flat ground. I walked at least a quarter of mile along the base before I dropped down another
five feet and then doubled
back
the way I had just traveled. The terrain was so dense with trees that I kept my eyes peeled to the ground so I wouldn't walk right by Mason without realizing it. I was beginning to give up on my third pass of walking on flatter ground. It wasn't like he would have continued his downward spiral once the ground became more level.

"Mason," I called in a weaker voice.
I had called his name so often
my throat was now paying the price. I tried not to dwell on the various aches and pains I felt, but I couldn't ignore the muscles I usually didn't use. They were definitely cursing me as my movements became more sluggish. Mason was right, I wasn’t used to this kind of physical labor and I definitely didn't belong here. I tried to take my mind off the pain, and my grumbling tummy for that matter, by fantasizing about when Rick would find us. I had the shower and meal all planned out. At least my raincoat had kept me relatively dry, but sloshing through the wet underbrush had left my pant legs drenched from the knee down and my tennis shoes were so soggy, I felt uncomfortable walking in them. "And after I use all the hot water in camp, I'm sleeping for days," I mumbled out loud.

My words were met with movement off to my left in the
thick underbrush between
the mountain
and me
.
Holding back a shriek of terror, I waited for some crazed animal to leap out on me. After a few seconds, my heart removed itself from my throat and reason took over.

"Mason?" I asked cautiously, creeping closer to the spot where the noise had originated.

"Kimberly," his voice said weakly.

Charging through the brush, I found Mason nestled in the embrace of a large bush. He was virtually hidden from sight and I would have never found him if I wouldn't have been talking to myself.

"Are you okay?" I asked, taking in the multiple abrasions that m
arred his handsome features.
Do
I look that bad?
I couldn't help thinking.

"Not really," he said, throwing me for a loop. With the exception of his raincoat being pretty much ripped to shreds in the front, and the multiple scratches on his face and hands, he looked relatively okay. I watched as he struggled to a sitting position that he couldn't quite manage. He wound up settling for resting on his elbows. I stepped forward to offer help, but was puzzled about what his injury was.

"Are you hurt?" I asked.

"You could say that," he said, looking at me gravely as he slowly lifted the edge of his trashed raincoat to reveal his legs.

The aci
d rolled in my stomach. “Oh my G
od,” I said as I took in the sight of his legs. It took me a moment to
comprehend what I was looking at. The left leg looked fine with the exception of multiple tears in the jeans, but it was his right leg that made me swallow back the bile risin
g in my throat. A sharp, jagged-
looking stick poked out where there should have
been
denim. It was only after looking at it closer that I realized the whi
te stick wasn't a stick at all—
it was his bone. The impact of the fall had obviously snapped the bone in half, making the jagged edge pierce through not only the skin, but also the denim from his jeans.

I swayed on my feet, looking at the bleeding oozing mess that just hours before had been a functional limb.

"Kimberly, look at me," Mason said, finally dragging my attention from his mangled leg. It took me a moment to finally look up into his face that was devoid of color. "Are you okay?" he asked, voicing the same question I had just asked him.

I laughed a humorless laugh. No, I wasn't okay. Nothing about this situation was okay. I wanted to rant and rave, to stomp my feet, but most of all, I just wanted to be home. I pulled it together before answering him. Now was not the time to lose it. Now was the time to pull on my big girl panties as Quinn would say and figure out how I was going to get us out of this mess.

"I'm fine," I said, finally meeting his eyes. "Well, except for a broken finger," I said, holding up my finger to show him.

He chuckled and then grimaced in pain
as I flipped him off while displaying
my injury.

"Yeah, this would have come in handy two days ago when you were still pissing me off," I said wryly.

He shot me a small smile laced with pain.

"Sooo, guess I'm the last man standing," I continued to joke as I pulled my backpack off. "Where's your bag?" I asked more seriously.

"I'm guessing halfway between us and the spot where the earth decided to open up out f
rom under us. I lost the walkie-
talkie too," he said, obviously disgusted with
himself
. "But I did manage to hold onto this," he said, holding up his flashlight.

I nearly wept when I saw it. With the rain still continuing to fall, I had begun to doubt that help would come today, making another night outdoors inevitable.

Holding my tears in check, I went for a saucy comeback. "Well, I guess I'll keep you around," I said, digging through my bag. I pulled out one of the three bottles of water from inside. I handed it to Mason to open since my finger made it
impossible to twist the lid
.

He took a long drink and then handed it back to me. I took a smaller drink, but he forced me to drink more. "Obtaining more water won't be an issue," he said as the rain continued to pelt us.

I nodded before dealing with the most pressing issue at hand. "What are we going to do about that?" I asked pointedly, looking at his leg.

"I won't be able to move until we stabilize it, but even then, short of scooting on my ass, I won't be doing much moving."

"Stabilize?" I asked, trying to not think about the idea of touching the mangled mess and causing him more pain.

"Yeah, you'll have to help me stabilize it," he said. "In your bag, you should have a first aid kit. Double check to make sure it's in there."

I pulled the flap of the bag open and reached inside with my one good hand. I fumbled around a little, maneuvering the other two water bottles to the side until I finally felt the small rectangular box with my fingers. "A
ha," I said, holding the box up
triumphantly.

"Okay, goo
d. Open it up and see if the ACE
bandage is in there," he said, lying back down, clearly spent from holding himself up.

I fumbled with the latch of the box with my one hand and finally leaned forward to use my teeth to pop
the stubborn lock. The box spra
ng open and I had to juggle the contents as they threatened to spill out. Taking a quick inventory, I saw several different sized Band-Aids, a handful of packets of Advil, individually wrapped alcohol wipes, a roll of gauze, a
small tube of antibiotic cream and a rolled-up ACE
bandage. I had to bite back a near hysterical laugh at the small tube of antibiotic cream. It would be as effective at treating Mason's open wound as applying
duct
tape to a leak in a dam.

"Did you find it?" Mason asked, trying to peer at me from his prone position.

"Yeah," I said, trying to shake off my despair as I shoved the Band-Aids, gauze, cream, wipes and pain relievers back into the small white plastic
box. I held up the rolled-up
bandage into his line of vision so he could see it.

"Okay
,
good," he said, raising himself back up on his elbows. "You need to search around and find two branches tha
t are each roughly two-feet long
, with maybe a quarter-inch diameter. They need to be as straight as you can find. Stay within sight of where I am so you don't get turned around and lost," he added, sinking back down with his eyes closed in obvious pain.

"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching for his hand unconsciously. The ashen look his face had taken was scary. Tears flooded my eyes as the enormity of the situation overwhelmed me. He needed me like no one ever had before. This was a situation I couldn't hide from and no one was waiting in the wings to swoop in to do it for me.

"I will be o
nce we stabilize my leg. Whenever
I move the pain ricochets throughout my body," he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't cry, it's all good," he added, trying to reassure me.

"I'm not crying, it's the rain," I lied, putting on a tougher act than I felt. "You just lay there and look pretty while I do all the work," I teased, gently extracting my hand from his so I could swipe the moisture from my face.

"You do that, and see if you can whi
p me up some grub and a dryer
bed too," he teased with his eyes closed again.

"Sure thing
,
princess," I teased, standing up.

I left the brush that hid Mason from view and started scouting around for sticks that matched his description. Keeping his hideout in my line of vision, I continued to look along the base of the mountain. After just a few minutes, I hit pay dirt on two of his requests. Smiling to myself in satisfaction, I was happy to have a goal in mind.

I could do this.

With a solid plan now set in my mind, I hurried back to Mason, ready to offer him some relief. He was asleep when I arrived back at his side. I set the sticks to the side and studied his leg while he slept. I turned off the part of my mind that wanted to reject what I was seeing and instead studied it much like I would a piece of art that I was analyzing. The bone sticking out of the skin was my biggest concern. I knew enough about the human body to know that an open wound was not a good thing. I was puzzled it wasn't bleeding profusely, but suspected it must not have hit any kind of artery when it broke through the skin. Looking at it closely, I saw that dirt and debris had found its way into the wound making it clear that it would have to be cleaned thoroughly if I was going to save him from infection. The fact that the denim on that leg was ripped to shreds would make my job easier when it came to cleaning the leg effectively. After several minutes of studying the injury,
I sat back. I wasn't looking forward to what I was going to have to do, but having a plan at least made it easier to accept.

Taking my eyes from his injury, I studied his features while he slept. Now that we weren't at each other
'
s throats, I could appreciate how handsome he really was. Even with multiple scratches, he still had the rugged good looks
they had to Photoshop on most male models. He screamed outdoors and m
aleness. Even laid up, he
gave of
f
the aura of protectiveness. Without thinking, I reached my hand up to brush a smudge of dirt off his forehead.

"Taking advantage of me, beach bunny?" he mocked lightly with his eyes still closed.

"Yep, you found me out. I've just been waiting for the right moment to make my move," I quipped, removing my hand from his forehead. He reached up and grasped it before I could do a full retreat.

"I
suspected it all along.
I knew you thought I was hot," he teased, opening his eyes.

"Whatever
helps you sleep at night,
honey.
"

He chuckled softly before grimacing in pain again. "You ready for this?" he asked.

I wanted to tell the truth and say
"
hell no,
"
but I nodded my head instead.

"It'll be a cakewalk," I said with false bravado.

"That's my girl," he said, looking at me proudly.

His trust in me was almost my undoing as I fought a new wave of panic. Who was I fooling? I wasn't a nurse. Hell, I
hated to
even watch doctor-
related TV shows since they always made me squeamish. I’d take a horror movie any day because at least I knew all the blood and gore was
fake
.

Fighting back my panic, I lined up the supplies I would need. "I have to clean the wound first," I said, not looking at him as I handed the water bottle to him with shaky hands so he could unscrew the cap for me.

"Can you do this with your broken finger?" he asked, concerned.

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