May Dawney - Survival Instincts

Skeever had turned his head up to look at her and struggled against his bindings.

“Pee break?”

He whined again and wiggled.

A vague sense of relief settled inside of her chest. Maybe we both need a break. She pulled the cart toward the concrete road dividers and leaned the handlebars on them so the cart would stay level once she undid the knots. The last thing she needed was for Dani to slide off the cart headfirst.

Getting Skeever out took wiggling him downward until his head came free and then restraining him until she could put his muscular body down on the pavement.

He took off right away, entirely unhindered by his useless front paw.

Lynn pulled her sleeve up and checked Dani’s temperature with the inside of her wrist. It wasn’t an accurate measurement, but it was worrying none the less. “I think your fever went up again.” She stroked Dani’s overly warm forehead. “Hey, Dani, are you still with me?”

Dani exhaled sharply and smacked her dry lips.

“Yeah, there you are.” She smiled, but tears threatened to well up at the weak display of life. Her chest constricted. “I’ll find you some water soon, I promise.”

With a whimper, Dani turned her head toward the sound of Lynn’s voice.

Guilt tugged at her. “I know you’re thirsty. I’m sorry.” She gathered what little saliva she had in her mouth and leaned over to lick Dani’s lips. “It’s not much, but maybe it helps a little.”

Dani’s lips closed, then puckered.

Lynn chuckled even as worry constricted her chest. “I’m trying to wet your lips before they crack too much, not kiss you, you know?” After a second of fighting herself, she kissed Dani anyway and remembered that only a day and a half ago, they had laid entwined, smiling, chatting, and kissing. What a difference a day makes. She pulled back and stroked Dani’s burning cheek. “You hang in there, okay?” Her voice broke. “I’m not losing you too.”

Dani leaned into the touch, and her hot breath coursed over Lynn’s wrist.

“I’m taking that as a yes, and I’m holding you to it.” She wiped a stray tear away and sniffed. “Okay, let’s see how your wounds are doing.” She rounded the cart with heavy steps, dreading what she would find once she undid the bandages.

The scent of decay made her nostrils flare and her stomach churn. The bandages were bright red, the claw marks dark and swollen. The deeper gashes were blackening around the edges, and the shallower cuts were filling up with pus.

Lynn set her jaw and used some of the cleaner bandaging to scrape the yellowish fluid out of the wounds.

“Ngggh!” Dani tensed. Fresh trickles of blood coursed along her side.

“Shhh. Shhh.” Lynn put her hand on Dani’s forehead and stroked. “I’ve got to get you clean, okay? Shhh.”

Dani’s frown slowly ceased.

“There you go. Just relax. You only have to do your job, remember. Survive? I’ll do everything else.” She swallowed against the nausea as she got another whiff of the infected tissue.

Another gasp of air expanded Dani’s chest, but her breathing overall was shallow and panicky. It worsened her bleeding, but Lynn didn’t know what to do about that. She didn’t think there was anything she could do except get Dani to someone who might be able to help her. And do it quickly.

They were running out of time. She looked up at the house that had served as their camp once and knew that she had to make use of every bit of traveling time she had. Dani was depending on her.

Lynn could barely get her feet off the ground anymore. For every obstacle she managed to step over, she nearly tripped over two. She needed to rest, to eat, to drink—but she didn’t have time to sleep or find water, nor could she hunt or gather with a cart strapped to her waist. Her mission was to push on as far as she could get before night fell and to get Dani closer to home. She refused to think about the possibility that the infection had already spread too far to stop it. If she allowed herself to believe anything other than that Dani would be all right once she got to the Homestead, she would collapse and Dani would die for sure.

She’d pushed on for hours and most of that time had been spent trying to piece together every detail about the first time she’d walked this route. How long had it taken her? How had she walked from the bridge to where she’d heard the elephant? What route had the Homesteaders taken from the hunting site to the Homestead? Could she find the way there? Another thought was rapidly becoming more and more obtrusive: can I find my way to the Homestead by firelight?

It was an insane thought and one she would never have entertained if she wasn’t so worried about Dani, but even a few hours could mean the difference between Dani dying or giving her a shot at life.

Traveling in the dark was the accumulation of everything Lynn considered suicidal. Most predators she feared were nocturnal. Obstacles and the dangers they presented would be harder to spot, and she could easily get lost, which would defeat the entire purpose of pushing through the night. They were back on the 696, though, and Lynn had memorized the map well enough to know that would automatically take her to the 295 and the bridge into New York that she had taken the day she’d met the Homesteaders. If she made a fire now that she still had a bit of daylight left, she could push on until she threatened to lose her way.

She would have to risk it.

The tinder caught flame easily once she pulled it out of the tin and blew. She dropped it into the bowl she’d used to hold the fire yesterday and rushed to add leaves and twigs until the fire became less finicky. The darkness closed in on her as she worked to build a fire that wouldn’t blow out at the first gust of wind.

The work kept her mind off the encroaching darkness, but she lost that comfort when she straightened and looked around to find a much smaller world. She had to get moving.

Lynn shrugged her jacket off and pulled her sweater over her head. Her shoulder hated the movement, but she bit back the pain. She quickly slid her jacket back on and buttoned it up before she wrapped her hand and arm up in her sweater. Even through three layers of wool, the bowl radiated heat into her skin, but she could manage the slight sting.

Skeever had twisted onto his belly and huffed plaintively.

“Sorry, boy, we’ll be bedding down late tonight. Just hang in there.” Lynn rubbed his head and stroked down his back, but her gaze slid to Dani. The sight was heartbreaking, and she had to take a deep breath to steady herself. Maybe the firelight was deepening the shadows on her face; maybe she wasn’t so pale in the daylight, but in the flickering light of the fire, Dani looked skeletal. Her chest rose and fell shakily, and she seemed to struggle for each breath.

Lynn remembered Dani telling her about the man who had died of an infected wound just after she’d gotten to the Homestead. Was she bringing Dani home just to die? Fear gripped her heart in its icy claws and squeezed until Lynn’s knees threatened to buckle. Dani’s probably going to die. The thought seared through her brain and tore a sob from her throat.

Maybe she could have shaken off losing Dani if she had chosen staying at the Homestead over going with Lynn, but losing her to death? “No!”

A hint of a frown pulled at Dani’s eyebrows.

“No.” She pressed her lips down on hot, salty skin and inhaled deeply. “You’re not dying.” Since last night, she had made Dani a lot of empty promises to soothe her, but this was a promise she vowed to keep. She stroked Dani’s hair and lingered as long as she dared to draw strength from the sound of Dani’s breathing. “You’re going to be okay. I’m getting you home tonight.”