Demon Trackers: The Anointed

part twenty-two

Henry’s fingers shook, curling into the material of Cal’s dirty jacket. He remembered the shooting pain of the creature’s teeth piercing his thigh. He wanted to reassure Jake, didn’t know how. “We…” He cleared his tightening throat. “We need to get to the top of the slope, get out of this smoke, get a fire going and get your brother warm.”

“We’re staying the night?” Jake sounded all of five.

“You can’t walk out on that ankle in the dark.”

“But you could go, get Cal out…”

“Jake, I’m not sure I can do any better on this leg. One misstep for either of us, especially carrying Cal. Son, his head can’t take any more abuse. Besides, we need to stick together.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Think you can make it up the hill? I don’t want any of us breathing this in all night.”

“I’ll make it.”

“Didn’t even need to ask, did I?”

“No, sir.” That’s my boy.

Not wanting Cal’s wrist to dangle, Henry carried him in his arms this time. It was slow going. He couldn’t see where he stepped, had to rely on Jake splashing the way ahead with light and feeling each step. Even with Cal’s slender build, teenagers were heavy and unwieldy, long legs and his uninjured arm dangling. Except that arm was injured too. Henry had forgotten. The gremlin bit him and hadn’t that been a sight to jolt a father’s adrenaline into full gear?

As they neared the top, the air cleared, the smoke and debris settling into the ravine. Henry spotted a good sized boulder with a nice area between several trees to get a fire going. He headed over there.

“Jake, push a bunch of that leaf-litter in front of the rock before I lay Cal down.” His arms were aching, leg throbbing, but Henry held his son a while longer while Jake was on the ground, hurriedly pushing most of the fallen leaves into a pile, leaving the dirt beneath bare as he smoothed it out into a long bed.

Grateful, Henry laid Cal down. The headlamp flickered, batteries nearing their end. They’d have only the glow from the three-quarter moon left to see by. Henry exhaled, staring at his youngest’s still features, concern over how long he’d been out gnawing at him.

Henry stood, waited for the sudden flare of pain in his leg to subside. It didn’t. He sighed. He was tired. “Jake.”

“Yeah Dad?”

“You still have your lighter?”

Jake nodded. Henry smiled. “Clear an area for a fire. I’ll be right back.”

“Here.” Jake reached up to hand Henry the waning headlamp. He didn’t have to go more than a few steps. There was plenty of broken branches and tree limbs. Henry picked the driest pieces, stacking them next to Jake who already had the beginnings of a fire going with teepee’ed twigs over dry pine needles. Henry took a couple more trips to make sure they had enough wood throughout the night. Selecting a few strips of bark he could work into splints for both boys, Henry settled once more by Cal’s side.

Kid still hadn’t moved and the snaking fear over that slithered up Henry’s spine. “Cal? Son, can you hear me? I need you to wake up now.” He continued to murmur to him as he worked Cal’s filthy jacket off, careful of the broken wrist and then again of the bites on his other arm. The arms of Cal’s T-shirt and skin of his forearms were clean, a stark contrast to the rest of him. It almost looked like the kid wore gloves.