Tornado Warning (17 page)

He got up slowly, his heart thumping so hard that it was about to fall out of his chest. The dog showed his teeth, the large fangs ready to bite right into his skin. There was no foam dripping from his mouth like the one from the night before, but all bets were off now. As Steve had said, humans were no longer at the top of the food chain. Wildlife was getting hungry, and they were willing to go after anything to survive. The fact that the coyote was out during the day was worrisome.

Behind Ryan was the river. He could jump back in and make the coyote swim after him. How good of swimmers were they? Didn’t rabid animals fear water? He thought he had read that somewhere.

If he yelled for Steve, that would be another reason to give the coyote a chance to lunge. Taking a deep breath, Ryan moved his left foot back, and that was enough for the coyote to come after him.

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Instead of falling back into the river, Ryan moved to the side, trying to make a far circle around the animal, but its reflexes were quick, and it nipped at his heels as he tried to run for a tree. He could feel the hot breath off of the coyote, his teeth clamping down and snapping, barely missing Ryan by a few inches. The gun was heavy in his pocket, but if he tried to pull it out, that would also slow him down. But he had to try! He couldn’t just let the coyote have him for a meal.

He sprinted as fast as he could, but the uneven terrain made it hard to reach his full potential. If he looked back, it’d slow him down, but the wild dog was right there. He slid his hand in his pant’s pocket, but it didn’t work. The gun was too big to pull out and he’d have to stop to be able to get it. He tripped on something, his body crashing hard to the ground. Sharp pain and heat shot through him and his head slammed into the earth below, the edge of his vision growing fuzzy.

A loud gunshot exploded from above – it was the last thing Ryan heard before passing out.

Chapter Nineteen

“Ryan? Ryan, are you okay?”

He could hear someone’s voice, distant, like he was in a tunnel. He tried to get up, but his body screamed out in pain and he fell back against whatever it was he was lying on. It took a second for his vision to recover from the blurriness, and he finally saw Steve hovering over him like a helicopter circling around a suspect.

“Oh thank God, you’re awake!”

Ryan lifted his head, but it felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. “What the hell?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Enlighten me, please. I can only imagine.” The sound of his own voice made Ryan’s head hurt, and he cringed with each pulse that made his brain want to explode against his skull.

“You got attacked by a coyote.”

“I what?” Was it a damn dream? The pain in his leg said otherwise, and he finally got enough energy to sit up and see his pants were ripped and there was a piece of cloth wrapped around his thigh, pink from the blood it was absorbing. “What the hell?” he asked again, unable to think up a coherent question.

“The coyote didn’t do that. You fell on a metal fence post.”

Ryan went to remove the bandage, but Steve stopped him, his grasp hard on his hand. “I wouldn’t remove it just yet. It’s still bleeding, and this isn’t exactly the most sanitary place to have an open wound.”

“What did you wrap it in?”

“The rest of Larry’s tank top.”

That wasn’t sanitary either, but at least Steve was helping him. “I want to see it. How deep is it?”

“It could use stitches.”

“Shit!” Ryan laid his head back again and closed his eyes. “You’re worried about sanitation and I impaled my leg on a rusty metal pole.” Things like tetanus popped into his mind, and he rubbed his finger down his cheek, thinking about lock jaw. “Is it bad enough that I won’t be able to walk?”

“Probably not for a few days. I cleaned it with some of the alcohol we had in the first aid kit. I’m surprised that didn’t wake you up. It foamed up and seemed to do a good job.”

“I don’t have a few days. We have to keep going.” He sat up again, adjusting his weight.

“This is my fault, Ryan.” Steve sat beside him. “We should’ve never stopped. You would’ve never gotten attacked and hurt. And we’d probably already be in Harper Springs by now.”

“No, don’t do this.” Ryan wagged his index finger at Steve. “You weren’t in good shape yourself. It was my idea to stop. We aren’t going to play the blame game, you got me? If we do that, we should blame it all on mother nature and the bitch that she’s been!”

He felt lightheaded and out of breath. It was like something was working against them, like they shouldn’t be doing what they were. Maybe it would have been better if he allowed the storm to take them, so they weren’t left behind to go through all of the suffering and struggles. He couldn’t let himself think that way. Too much depended on his survival.

“We need to find a doctor,” Steve said, stating the obvious.

Ryan clenched his jaw and stared down at his wounded leg. “Thank you, Steve. You saved my life. Which gun did you use?”

“The shotgun. It was propped up against a tree. I jumped out of the water as soon as I saw the damn thing bearing down on you. You’re a fast runner! He damn near got a piece of you!”

Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. “At first, I didn’t think you realized what was going on, but my focus was on the animal. That’s quick thinking. I’d be dead...”

Steve’s brow furrowed and he looked away. “But you’re not. And you’d do the same for me, so don’t think that way.”

Ryan bit his bottom lip to stave off a bout of pain that shot through him. “I’ve gotta worry about tetanus or other infections. So along with finding my wife, getting medical help for my son, and getting tools to fix that car, we’ve gotta run across a tetanus shot, somehow.”

“When was the last time you had the shot?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Long enough to where I’ll need one. Maybe you ought to find your own way. I seem to be a magnet for attracting all kinds of bullshit. I’m an accident just waiting to happen.”

“You’ve gotten us this far, Ryan. We’re not far from Harper Springs and we’ll keep moving. But you need to rest and stay off of that leg for a while. If you don’t, you’ll just hurt yourself worse.”

“So close, yet so far,” Ryan replied. When was he going to wake up from this nightmare?

“That storm we were waiting on near Harper Springs looks like it finally moved off.” Steve handed Ryan a canteen and a bottle of Tylenol. “Probably should take a few of those.”

Ryan didn’t argue. The water tasted good and it was cold, and he swallowed four pills. “How bad is the wound? I know I already asked that, but did it go through?”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “It’s a pretty big gash that is deep. It’s going to leave a hell of a scar. By my calculations, it won’t get stitched up in time to prevent one. Unless!” He snapped his fingers, his eyes widening as the idea hit him.

“Unless what?” Finally, Steve was showing some personality, and it threw Ryan off guard.

“We have that woman’s sewing kit, right?”

Ryan looked down at his leg. The cotton shirt was soaked in his blood and it didn’t show any signs of slowing down. “You’re wanting to stitch me up?” His heart skipped a beat. “That has infection written all over it. Do you even know how to do it?”

“I’ve got livestock. I’ve had to do it to them when the veterinarian wasn’t around. And there is a risk for infection, but so is leaving the wound wide open with dirty bandages and clothes over it. We’ve got the rubbing alcohol I can pour on it. It’ll hurt like hell, but we gotta get it to stop bleeding.”

Ryan shifted his weight, trying to lift the leg. He could barely get it off of the ground without the pain shooting through him, hindering any chance of moving. And he felt weak – was it from blood loss or everything snowballing to make his life a living hell?

“If you don’t want me to do it, I won’t touch you. If it were me, I’d do it. Look how much blood has soaked in the denim on your jeans.” He pointed at Ryan’s leg. “I’m no doctor, but like I said, I’ve stitched up cattle before. You’ll definitely have a scar, but I think that’s a moot point right about now.”

It would definitely hurt like hell. Ryan contemplated the option a few more minutes, hesitating. “How long ago did this happen?” He still wasn’t sure how much time had passed. If he could get an accurate timeline, it’d help him make a decision.

“You were out for a good forty-five minutes.”

“And I’ve been awake for about fifteen, so an hour, give or take. And it’s still bleeding.” Ryan shook his head yes. “We can try it. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.” He wanted to give it more time, but they didn’t have any more time to waste. “The sewing kit is in the big pocket of my backpack. There are different size threads and needles. Probably should get a thicker thread.”

Steve gathered the supplies and laid them out beside Ryan. He poured alcohol on a cotton ball and smoothed it down the needle, including the tip. Eying the spool, he smirked and unrolled several feet.

“We don’t have flesh color, so you’ll have black stitches. We’re gonna have to pull your pants down so I can get better access to it. Don’t want to cross contaminate with your clothes.”

Ryan edged his jeans down, thankful that he still had a pair of boxers on. The fabric clung to the caked on blood on his skin and he was already anticipating the horrible pain. He wished they had something to numb him. If only his dad were there with his flask of whiskey. If he had a good buzz going, he wouldn’t care what Steve did.

Steve pulled Ryan’s belt through the loops and handed it to him. “I’d bite down on this. It might help a little.”

Ryan let out a sarcastic laugh. It was shocking how willing Steve was to do it, like he was his special science project or something. When Steve removed the gauze and cloth, Ryan got his first real look at the injury. The gash was about half of a foot long and deep enough that he could see tissue. More blood oozed out, along with some pus, which wasn’t a good sign. The gauze stuck to the dried blood like his jeans had, and he cringed at the sight of what had happened.

Steve dabbed a few drops of alcohol on a clean piece of gauze and held it right above the wound. “You ready?”

“Do it. Just get it over with,” Ryan said between breaths, closing his eyes when the bandage soaked in medicine ran over his skin.

Painful was an understatement. He could feel the alcohol bubbling in and around the affected area, the discomfort feeling like a million needles were jabbing into him. He bit down on his belt so hard that he almost split the leather. Sweat flowed down the side of his face and he tasted the salt on his lips. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should’ve given it a little more time to heal up on its own.

The pain subsided for a moment, the wound going numb from the trauma. Steve set the gauze and bottle of alcohol aside and made sure the needle was clean again. Tying the thread through the eye, he secured it and looked at Ryan through the corner of his eye.

“Maybe that was the worst of it.”

“You’re about to stick a needle in my skin. I’m not sure what to...”

Steve didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as bad as cleaning it had, and he felt the tension pull the damaged flesh together. There was a dull ache deep in his leg, but the stinging had subsided. It felt weird, having thread weave in and out, but Ryan finally gained up enough courage to open his eyes and watch. Steve was better at stitching him up than expected. He must’ve done it a lot on his farm.

As the needle moved in and out, a few more drops of blood came out, but it was a small sacrifice to make in comparison to the amounts of blood he’d lose if they hadn’t taken action. His skin didn’t match up perfectly, but it would help aid his body in healing. He wasn’t going for a beauty contest. A scar would just be a mark to remind him of the adventure they were on.

Finishing the job, Steve cinched it up and cut the remaining thread with his pocket knife, leaving about two inches for some slack. For safe measure, he ran another cotton ball soaked in alcohol over the stitches. Another sensation of pain hit Ryan, but it ended quickly.

“I should work in the O.R.,” Steve said, laughing. “What do you think, Ryan?”

“My leg looks like a damn football.”

“And you stopped bleeding,” Steve replied as he gathered up the supplies.

“Thanks, Steve. I appreciate it. I owe you.”

“No, you don’t. You got me away from those looters. And besides, we’re not keeping score. We’re in this together. I can’t have you bleeding all over the damn place. The coyotes will surely track us then!”

Ryan felt a smile part his lips, and it wasn’t forced. His eyelids were heavy and he felt like he had just got done running a race. Sitting up, he fought the wave of exhaustion and drank some more water. Since they were by the river, they could easily get a refill.

“We should get going if that storm is gone.”

Steve’s eyes widened again as if Ryan had spoken another language. “Are you kidding me? You’ve got a massive hole in your leg! I just stitched it up. Your ass isn’t going anywhere!”

“We don’t have the time to wait around. Whether we go right now or hours from now, my leg is going to hurt. I wanted to get to Harper Springs before the sun went down today.” He attempted getting up again, but this time, Steve made it impossible, gently putting his hand on Ryan’s chest.

“What good will you be if you won’t rest? Rushing it is just going to slow us down more. You took a detour for me to get water. Now do it for yourself, would you? You’re a stubborn ass!”

Steve’s assessment of Ryan made him laugh, and laughing made him hurt, but he couldn’t stop himself. “My wife says the same thing about me.”

“I know you wanna find her. I get it. But you can barely hold your eyes open as you’re talking to me. You said so yourself before I stitched you up – you’re worried about infection. Going too soon will weaken you, including your immune system.”

Ryan held his hand up and bit his bottom lip. “Alright. Point made. You sure you’re not a car salesman, because damn! And I’m the stubborn one?”

“We’ll rest this evening and see how you feel in the morning. That’ll give me time to fish and make supper. You need something to keep your strength up.”

Ryan didn’t respond. Steve knew what he was doing, and it was nice to witness him finally coming out of his shell. As much as Ryan liked to lead, sometimes it was a nice break to follow for a change.

Waiting around made him worry about several issues, but things he couldn’t ruminate on until the situation actually arose – another storm coming through was the main thing on his mind. He wasn’t mobile, and he wouldn’t be able to get away. He also worried about more coyotes coming. He was in a prime position to be a quick meal. He escaped from two. The third time, he might not be so lucky.

Steve carried his sapling to the edge of the water and threw it in. Another catfish would hit the spot if he was able to catch one. Ryan closed his eyes and tried to rest. One second at a time. That’s all they could do.