J. Souders - Revelations

I open and shut my mouth a few times, before I finally force out in a whisper, “Gavin put you up to this?”

He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Er … yes. But he’ll catch up with us. Now come on before more of those things follow us.” He glances around at the trees as if expecting the flock to appear at any minute, which I’ve no doubt is completely possible.

With no choice left, I try and get more comfortable. It’s not an easy task. My thighs ache, not only from straddling the horse, but because of the way I’m turned and pressed tightly against Asher.

After wiggling and shimmying for a few moments, I finally let go of embarrassment and propriety and just hitch closer to Asher. I wrap one leg around his hip, letting the other lie over his thigh.

The adrenaline I had just moments ago rushes out of my veins as fast as it poured in. The horrid heat feels like I’ve ridden straight into a volcano. My head spins and my thoughts are all fuzzy and mushy.

I curse myself for it. I’m so sick of being sick. My eyes slowly close, and I fight to keep them open, but I’m losing the battle. I don’t want to fall asleep now. I want to go back for Gavin. But my body doesn’t care what I want and, despite all the sticky blood on his shirt, I slump over into Asher’s chest.

His arm tightens around me, pulling me even closer. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he says.

I can’t fight it anymore, so I stop trying, letting the exhaustion and sleep take over.

The slowing of the horse wakes me and I blink my eyes against the bright sun. I’m still tucked up tight against Asher, which makes me feel guilty and uncomfortable. I push away gently and clear my throat when we stop.

As if someone throws a switch, everything floods back and rage wells up inside me. My hands curl into fists, my nails biting into the flesh of my palm. I open my mouth again to demand we go back for Gavin. I don’t care that Gavin told Asher to leave, or that he’ll meet us. We need to go back. But Asher looks down at me and the rage rushes out of me just as quickly as it came. He looks as miserable as I feel. Exhaustion is pouring off of him in waves.

Unsure of what to say, I close my mouth. Instead, I look down and notice the bleeding from the wound on his neck has slowed. And while it’s still trickling blood, he’s already lost a lot. His throat and shirt collar are covered in it. And so am I.

When he slides down off the horse, he stumbles a few steps before falling to his knees. I quickly slide down, ignoring the deep ache in my own joints and limp over to him, but he pushes me away.

“I’m fine,” he says, his voice rusty. “Just tired.”

I reach out to his bloody gash. “This needs attention. It’s bad.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he says again, but when I go to get some water from the canteens and some cloth to clean his wounds anyway, he doesn’t stop me.

Trying to locate Gavin’s pack, I search through the supplies quickly. I’m sure he has some kind of first-aid kit. He’s a hunter. Accidents happen. He’d need something to handle them. Of course, that makes me think about how he’s all alone out there with nothing to help him.

If he made it out at all. My breath hitches at the thought, and I press a hand to my mouth before I quickly push the thought away, refusing to even think about it. If I do, then I’ll fall apart, and I don’t have time for that right now.

I find the little white box with the red cross on it and open it. There are only a few packets of sterile bandages and some gauze left. Since it’s better than nothing, I sit next to Asher and pull out a few of the packets, pouring water on the gauze. I gently dab it on his neck, trying to get enough of the dirt and blood from the wound to see how bad it is.

He hisses, but doesn’t stop me. The wound is deep. Thank Mother it missed any major blood vessels or muscles, although it still has to hurt like crazy.

“I’m sorry I kicked you,” I say, not looking at him.

Asher rubs a hand over his chest. “Not gonna lie. It hurt like hell. But I get it. Let’s just forget it. Consider it water under the bridge.”

I nod. Using some gauze and the smaller adhesive bandages as a tape, I carefully bandage it. It’s not pretty, but it’s functional. Finished, I start to pour some more water onto the spare gauze to clean his throat, but he stops me.

“We may need those in the future. Here.” Asher takes off his shirt and hands it to me. “Use this.”

I wash the rest of his neck, trying to get the remainder of the dirt and blood off him. Probably not strictly necessary, but it gives me something to do and makes me feel useful.

After not being able to go back and help Gavin, I feel I need to do this one thing. My chest feels heavy when I think about him. Did he make it? Is he coming for us? Was he hurt? Does he need us? Does he need me ?

Even though it’s completely clean, I continue to scrub at Asher’s neck. He grabs my wrist and stops me.

“Evie.” His voice is soft. He waits for me to look up and, when I do, I see something in his eyes. But I refuse to acknowledge it. Not now. Not ever.

His eyes search my face, but I tug my hand from his grasp and turn away, meticulously placing each bandage into the box one by one and making sure they’re placed perfectly before I stand and put the box back in the packs.

“You should rest,” I say. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. And we should wait for Gavin to catch up.” He doesn’t say anything, and I can’t stop myself from continuing. “It shouldn’t be too much longer before he does, but I’ll pull the stuff off Starshine. She should be able to rest, too.”

At first he doesn’t do anything, but I don’t turn around. I just continue to uselessly pull at the ropes. When I can’t get my fingers to cooperate enough to undo the knots, I move to the saddle straps and unbuckle them. I’m just about to try and lift the saddle when Asher’s hands fall on top of mine.

He doesn’t say anything. We just stand there, my hands on each side of the saddle, his over the top of mine. It’s almost suffocating, him being that close, but I need it. I want to lean against him and soak up the comfort I know he’d offer. And Mother knows I need all the comfort I can get right now.

But then he sighs, and the moment passes. “I’ve got this,” he says. “You shouldn’t be lifting anything this heavy.”

More exhausted than I care to admit, I nod, slipping my hands out from under his before ducking underneath his arms. I sit back down on the sandy ground a few meters away, as just those simple tasks have already exhausted me. With my whole achy body elated at being able to sit, I begin tracing designs with my finger in the dust.

I’m working so hard to keep from thinking of Gavin that I don’t notice anything until I feel a burning in my shoulder. I hiss and yank away, twisting to see what’s trying to take a chunk out of me now.

Asher sits behind me, holding a wet cloth in his hand. “You got clawed, too,” he says quietly.

Moving my gaze to my shoulder, I see long gash marks next to the old ragged, infected wound that never seems to get better. I nod, gesturing for him to continue before turning away again.

He carefully cleans all the gashes on my upper chest and arms, and even tries to tend to the wound in my shoulder. Then he washes the blood from my face. When he finishes, I hug my legs to my chest and rest my cheek on my knees, closing my eyes against the bright sunlight. My head pounds from the intensity of its glare.

Asher sits next to me, and then taps my leg. I glance over to see he has a pair of sunglasses in his hand. His glasses. I take them with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”