Val managed to keep awake until
just after sunrise. By then, she
figured she would have to use
pieces of twigs to prop her eyes
open. She studied their
situation. They really should be
moving on down the mountain by
now. The longer they stayed in
one place, the higher the odds
were that Borden or one of his
goons would find them. And she
absolutely did not want to
return to Borden's hideout, nor
did she want to subject Terry to
that. She crouched beside him
and felt his forehead. Still
hot, and he wasn't sweating,
which worried her. "Okay, water
first - then sleep."
She made a cautious trip to the
stream for water, risking
drinking some of it because it
was cold and actually tasted
good, but boiled the rest of it.
She gave some of the untreated
water to Terry. "I imagine it
won't kill you unless it joins
up with whatever nasties you've
got going in that arm and they
kill you together."
He opened his eyes as she was
trickling water into his mouth,
blinking up at her with a
confused look on his face.
"Dino?"
"Not hardly," she retorted. She
knew who Dino was; he had told
her some of their adventures in
the K&R game while they were
endlessly walking down hill the
first day. "It's Val - remember?
I broke you out of Borden's
camp? Saved your ass and
probably your life? Yes? No?" He
continued to stare up at her,
uncomprehending, then simply
shut his eyes and either passed
out or went back to sleep right
in the middle of swallowing more
of the water. "That's the story
of my life," Val commented
wryly, "Even my best patter
doesn't keep 'em awake long."
She set the water aside, removed
the boiled water from the little
fire and stamped it out. No use
keeping a lighted beacon for the
bad guys to home in on while she
was dead to the world.
She washed her face and hands
with the rest of the unboiled
water. It felt so good, she took
off her grubby shirt and pants
and wiped her body down with it
too. She glanced up to find
Terry's eyes on her and
squeaked, trying to cover
breasts, crotch and butt with
two hands and a very tiny piece
of rag. "Oh, bugger that!" she
exclaimed, chuckling at herself.
Christ, she had shagged the
bloke - he'd seen her in the
altogether, and anyway, he was
out of his head with fever. To
test that theory, she grinned
and waggled her fingers at him,
"Yoo-hoo, ya like what ya see,
big boy?" For fun, she stood up
straight and flaunted her bosom
in his general direction,
wishing she had some tassels.
And the knack of twirling them.
Terry blinked, not sure if he
was having some wild fever dream
or if the staid, rather testy
Miss Valentina Harcourt was
actually shaking her boobs at
him. He decided to test his
dream. "Show us yer pussy, luv,"
he croaked out, his Aussie
accent much thicker than usual.
"What!?!" she exclaimed, turning
ten shades of red and once more
attempting to cover herself.
"Are you really awake? You're
not delirious?"
"I think so, and no, I'm not
delirious - unless you're
Boom-Boom McCoy from Perth.
You're not, are you?" Terry
propped himself on his good arm
and continued to look at the
decidedly interesting sight of
Miss Harcourt in the altogether,
hidden only by a very small
piece of shirting. "Is that my
shirt?" he suddenly recognized
it.
She looked at the rag. "Erm,
yeah - it is. I needed a rag -
want to use it?" She held it out
to him, realized too late that
left her naked, and snatched it
back, once more trying to hide a
pair of C-cup breasts behind a
decidedly A-cup size piece of
camo cloth. "Shite," she fumed.
"Shall I wipe you down with it,
or would you rather I didn't?"
"Didn't," he answered with his
usual succintness. "What time is
it?"
"Morning," she answered in kind,
dumping out what remained of the
unboiled water. She put on her
last clean shirt and panties,
made sure the fire was out and
their little hideout was
well-hidden by brush, then
flopped onto the blanket. "I'm
knackered, I'm going to sleep an
hour or so and then we're going
to get out of here." She was
speaking to the dead, she saw.
He was either passed out again
or asleep. "Story of my life,"
she muttered, and was asleep
almost before putting her head
down on the hard packed ground.
When she awoke, she had the
sensation of hours having
passed. To test this, she looked
outside and sure enough, the sun
angle told her it was mid
afternoon. "Bugger all, wake up,
Thorne, we've got to get further
down the mountain. I don't like
staying here."
She managed to get Terry awake,
got his pants on him despite his
half-hearted, rather sickly
joking with her about being
commando in exactly the right
location for playing at
commando, and rolled up their
meager equipment in the blanket
pack. This she donned since he
was barely able to keep his
feet, and, leading for once, she
set out down the mountain. Terry
followed along behind, promising
her he was fit for it and
wouldn't fall on his face
without at least warning her
first. He did seem to be keeping
up pretty well, and they went
quite a ways down before sundown
forced them to stop and hunt
shelter for the night. No way
did she want to spend a night in
the open. "Know any nice clean
caves around here?" she asked
him, mostly teasing.
Terry looked around, not moving
his head too quickly for fear of
falling over from dizziness.
Bugger it, his arm hurt like
hell, and he was so bloody hot.
"No - maybe alongside those gray
rocks over there." He pointed to
a slight rise about twenty yards
off their path.
"Figures it'd be in West
Bumfuck," Val commented.
Nonetheless, she went off the
faint trail they'd been
following for awhile and into
the much brushier ground between
them and the rocks Terry pointed
out. She tried not to make too
much noise; no point in hiding
if they sounded like elephants
crashing through the brush. Once
there, she examined the rocks.
"This looks almost like some
sort of building, doesn't it to
you?"
Terry had to agree that it did.
"Maybe a storage building or
something - really old." It
reminded him of stone structures
he'd seen in Cambodia and
Thailand. "I mean REALLY old -
like centuries." He leaned
against the largest stone,
propping himself on his good
hand. "We need to find the
door."
Val, who was hunting for just
that, barely spared him a
glance. "I suppose it would be
naive to hope they had a sign
that read 'Door this way' or
something of the kind - oops,
hold on - this rock sort of
slides - yikes!" She pressed
against a rock and a whole
section of what she had thought
was large stone blocks slid
inwards, revealing a shadowy
chamber within. "Thorne - come
on - there's a room here!"
Terry made his way over and
peered inside. He flicked his
lighter and checked for
poisonous snakes or other
varmints. "Aside from some
spiders the size of my feet, I
don't see anything nasty," he
told her.
Val almost climbed his body,
ending up perched with her knees
at his waist, hands scrabbling
on his shoulders, panting into
his ear, "I hate spiders! Kill
them all first before we go in,
Thorne!"
Terry wriggled until she
realized she was being very
silly and climbed down. Still,
she wouldn't go inside the
doorway she had so cleverly
found until he brushed down some
very small cobwebs with a leafy
branch and pronounced the place
clear of dinner-plate sized
arachnids. "Mind the bats,
though," he commented off hand
as she eased inside with extreme
caution.
"Bats! Oh, bugger all - stop
teasing me! I can't help that I
don't like spiders - it goes
back to my childhood." She set
the pack down on the smooth
stones of the floor and glanced
around. "We need some wood for a
fire - look, there's a fire pit
there."
"Probably a sacrificial altar,"
Terry joked. When she gave him a
dirty look, he just chuckled,
already on his way to gather
some deadfall wood. "Is there
any bottled water left?"
"One bottle, still sealed," she
answered, spreading the blanket
on the cleanest area of the
floor. "I'm saving it."
Terry came in with an armload of
wood and set about making a
small fire in the firepit. "For
what, are we expecting guests
for dinner?"
"Lord, I hope not," Val replied.
"I have two packets of this soup
shite, a package of cheese
crackers and one Hershey bar -
we're in for a gourmet feast
this evening. Table for two,
Mister Thorne?"
Terry was surveying his
smokeless fire, pleased with
himself. "I had something more
substantial in mind."
"Oh? What, roasted bat? No,
thank you, I'm sure." Val
flopped on the blanket for a
much-needed rest.
Terry rummaged in the contents
of their pack and came up with a
strand of fishing line and a
hook. Tying the line to a fairly
straight twig, he announced he
was going to fish for their
supper. "We need the protein."
Val snorted. "The only fish in
that pitiful excuse of a stream
we've been following for days is
probably a mudfish."
"Trout," Terry corrected her, "I
saw them as we walked along it
this afternoon."
"You were hallucinating, my
friend - but go ahead - catch us
a trout in the dark and I will
never doubt your skills at
living wild again."
"Find some bricks or a flat
piece of rock to bake it on," he
told her, and disappeared into
the murky darkness of early
evening, intent on catching at
least one trout. "Please, God,"
he whispered as he made his way
to the bank of the stream,
"don't let me catch a water
snake or a frog."
"I still can't believe you
caught an actual trout," Val
commented, picking her teeth
with a bit of twig. "It was
delicious - just needed some
almondine and little tiny baby
vegetables to be complete."
"Don't forget a salad before and
little chocolate tarts for
afters," Terry added. He was
full, exhausted, and hot. "Help
me off with my shirt, will you,
luv?"
"Most of it is gone anyway,
don't you want to just chuck
it?" She unbuttoned it since he
was fumbling. "You look awful,"
she commented as she got a good
look at him up close. He had
blueish marks under his eyes,
his face was unnaturally
flushed, and he was a pasty
color under the remains of his
suntan. Despite her teasing, she
really was worried about him,
and now that worry intensified.
She got the shirt off him,
careful of his arm, and set the
dirty shirt aside. "Let me check
your bandage," she ordered.
"It's fine," he bit out, not
wanting his arm jarred any
further. She wasn't to be
gainsaid, though, and shortly
had the bandage undone and the
makeshift fabric pads off. They
both looked at the puffy, oozing
wounds in some horror. "Christ,"
Terry breathed, and lay back
with his eyes closed. It looked
like it felt.
"Terry - I'm really worried
about this now," she said
honestly. She got some warm
water from by the fire and
wondered if she was going to
have to do something drastic.
"Please tell me I'm not going to
have to cut your arm off or
anything like that."
"Don't think so, luv," came the
answer. He opened his eyes and
regarded her very sternly,
however. Then he dropped the
bombshell. "You do need to heat
my knife red hot, though, and
cut away some of the dead
tissue."
Val gagged, staring at him
aghast. "I - I need to w-what?"
her voice came out in a squeaky
tone she didn't recognize as her
own. "I will not!"
He gripped her wrist with his
good hand and said firmly, "Val
- I'm not joking here - you have
to do this."
"Jesus weeping on the cross,
Terry - do I really have to?"
She wanted to weep along with
Christ. Cut away his dead flesh!
She wished she hadn't eaten so
much trout, it was now
threatening to come back up.
"You can do it," he said. "I
trust you - after all, weren't
you a Girl Guide?"
"Yes, but the nastiest wound I
treated in the Guides was a
blister on Mary Dillingham's
heel from her new trainers - and
that didn't involve a knife,
just a hot needle."
"Think of this as just a larger
blister," he encouraged her.
"I don't think that's going to
work," she answered, but she was
already getting the Leatherman
knife out of its sheath and
setting it into the fire so the
blade would get hot. "I'm going
to cry, Terry."
"Think how I'll feel," he joked,
and wished they were anywhere
but where they were - preferably
somewhere with a nice clean
emergency clinic, nurses,
anesthesia and sterile
dressings. "You don't have any
antibiotics do you?"
She just shook her head, not
trusting herself to speak for
fear of babbling hysterically
that she couldn't do this. The
knife blade was glowing redly
when she brought it over, the
handle padded with some cloth
from his shirt. "I wish I had
something to give you so this
won't hurt," she told him
earnestly.
Terry held up a peeled twig and
stuck it between his teeth,
biting down, indicating that she
should go ahead.
"Oh, God - a stick to bite!" Val
choked out, and touched the red
hot blade to the back of Terry's
hand.
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Click the sword
for Chapter Ten
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