The Savage

Twenty Six

Something touched my elbow and I nearly screamed, cramming knuckles against my mouth at the last moment. Turning my head to look, I went still as shock rippled through me. Wind Runner lay behind me his chest stained red, open wounds allowing his life to drain from him.

"Kimimela..."

"Shh..." Shaking my head, I put a finger to my lips. "It's not safe."

"Th-there is no danger for me...anymore,"

His words forced me into movement, painfully turning to assess his wounds. One was dreadful, having punched a hole through his lower midsection, the other two merely deep grazes that bled freely but were not serious. With no better options, I mixed his pooling blood into the dry dust, churning it into paste that I spread thickly over the torn flesh. I had nothing to bind him with but my own clothing, and so tugged loose of my belt. Inching to his side, I weakly grasped at long blades of dry grass, pulling handfuls loose to push against the wound, for a cushion and extra absorbance. The belt I used as a sort of tourniquet, to tie them in place to help staunch the flow of blood. His eyes were glazing over but he seemed to be breathing steadily, and I let my fingers trace over his cheek, accidentally leaving red streaks behind.

"Wind Runner, I-" A scream was ripped from me as my ankle was roughly grasped and my body yanked brutally from the brush out into the open. The leather wrap I wore caught and partially came free as I was pulled into the open. Writhing in panic, I struck out with clawed fingers, only to have them slapped away. A dark shadow was standing over me in the growing twilight, then the man bent closer.

"Jaynie Colter?! What in the blazing thunderation-?"

"No-!" trying to scramble away, I screamed as he caught me, flipping me over to clamp a dirty gloved hand over my mouth.

"Shut up!" His hiss was urgent. "You wanna ever get home, you don't let them soldier boys know you're here!"

Tearing his hand away, gasping for air, dizzy with pain, I glared at him.

"What are you doing here? What do you care if I get home again?"

"No time for that now, just listen," he turned suddenly, looking behind him, then all around to make certain we were alone. I dared not shift my gaze from him, terrified he would suspect Wind Runner was so close by. Al Baily finally looked back at me, leaning down to keep his voice low.

"I'll get you outta here, but you stay quiet or so help me I'll leave you to die. You ken, squaw?"

Mute, knowing he meant what he said and needing help, I nodded. Half kneeling, he slid a powerful arm under me and bodily pulled me to my feet. I tried to stand but the pain was so bad I could hardly see, and clung to him for stability and support.

"I thought you squaws was supposed to be tough," he growled impatiently. "Stop hangin' on me, I gotta get you up on that pony."

"I- I can't..." so dizzy I could not see, temples throbbing, muscles quivering from shock and stress, I tried to hold on to him but Al pulled free. The hard slap caught me off guard and jarred my senses alert. His eyes were narrow, his lips tight, and hated flooded through me but I was too weak to protest.

"I ain't babyin' you half-breed. You wanna get home you get up on that horse an' don't fall off."

The horse was saddled, and with his gruff help, I managed to get up, clinging tenaciously to the long mane and pummel. His own mount was nearby then we were riding away, and I cast a look back, seeing the line of half a dozen women between the columns of solider being led away. There were no warriors in sight. Sealing my grief inside my heart, I faced forward and let the man I was forced to trust lead me off into the gathering night. At some point I slipped into unconsciousness.

Crackling flamed brought me back to the world, along with warm dampness on my skin. At first I thought I was still among the People, safe and cared for in the lodge of Stalking Elk. Then memory came rushing in on me as I forced my eyes open. As my vision swam into focus, I found Al kneeling over me, my deerskin wrap laying fully open as he bathed my wound. Instantly trying to cover up, he irritably batted my hands away, meeting my eyes with a glower.

"Stupid girl," he muttered. "Let me get this clean of fever will kill you sure."

"I'm fine-"

"Shup your trap," his snap was angry. "You been hit hard, and the bullets still in there. It's gotta come out."

"What?" Alarm pulsed though me but Al ignored my wide, startled look and held up a skinning knife.

"I cleaned the blade...bite down on this." He shoved a dried branch the thickness of two fingers into my mouth and before I could protest, rolled me partly on my side. In a quick movement and a white slash of pain, I swallowed a scream as my jaws ground into the wood. I felt his fingers push at my skin then something warm and soft was pressed there.

"Done," he held the bloodied metal bit up for me to see. "It was right near the surface."

"I hate you," I managed to croak, glaring at him. Al returned my gaze expressionless, then shrugged.

"Don't care."

He bandaged me swiftly then at last allowed me to pull the shift closed, concealing my naked skin from his critical eyes. I watched him move around a little, then he held out a cup of coffee to me.

"Drink it, you'll be needin' the strength."

"I need nothing from you Al Baily."

"No?" I thought there was a faint bit of sarcasm in his tone then. "Fine, starve. I got no preference."

"Why are you doing this? You don't care for me at all...and the soldiers, how did they find us?"

"You won't like what I got to say," he warned, taking a long swallow of coffee. Studying his features, I finally gave in.

"Perhaps I am a little thirsty."

"You had your chance, squaw." Deliberately he took another drink, meeting my eyes.

"You disgust me."

"I ain't so fonda you neither Jaynie Colter," reaching easily behind him, Al poured more coffee from the pot on the flames, then held the cup out to me. "Drink."

"I thought-"

"You really arguin'?" he interrupted. "Just take it!"

Glaring, anger hot within me, I accepted the drink, letting the thick liquid work its way down my throat into my stomach. The coffee was soothing, and filling on my weak system. Handing the cup back, I watched Al purposefully wipe the rim clean before taking another drink. I shot him a hate filled look, which he heartily returned.

"You didn't answer me, earlier."

"'Bout that Indian village?" finishing the cup of coffee with a gulp, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "I led 'em to it."

BOOM! Who saw that coming? 

~Sara