Demon Trackers: The Anointed

part twenty-seven

"Hey, there you are, drooley."

Cal awakened with the side of his face on Jake's damp knee. Cal's hair was wet, dripping into his eyes. Must have been what woke him up. "Wha…?" His voice rasped. Great.

"Just cleaned out your wounds while you were out."

"Wounds?"

"Head, dumbtard. Ring any bells? Gremlins kicked your ass, batted your head around cave walls. Not once, but twice."

Cal didn't remember that at all. He remembered the gremlins though and Iason's sightless eyes staring up at him. "Didn't kick my ass." He hissed when Jake pressed something over his temple. Felt like gauze.

"Hold still, will ya?" Jake pushed Cal's hand away. "Gotta tape this down." The first-aid kit was right in front of Jake's crossed legs, open, with bloody wet gauze tossed to the side. Empty water bottles were also strewn about. They must have used them up just cleaning his wounds out.

"Any headaches?" Dad's voice came from the right, startling Cal. Tilting his face upward, he blinked at him, startled again by Henry's appearance, by the deep worry lines grooved within the contours of his ash-streaked face.

"Not really." Which wasn't the complete truth, but at least the jackhammer striking his brain had dulled down to the level of girly slaps.

A light brow arched.

"It's not as bad," Cal admitted.

"Good," Jake said. "Then maybe we can finally get out of here. I am so dirty, it's starting to itch."

Cal immediately came up with a good insult for that, but he just didn't have the energy to sling it out, which was too bad he thought, because it would have helped Jake to not worry so much, because that's exactly what Jake was doing with his voice all serious again. "Gonna get you sitting up first, nice and slow. Let me know if it makes your head hurt."

"I'm not six, Jake." Felt like it though as both Jake and Dad pulled him gently up, careful of his broken wrist. Cal felt his face flaming, embarrassed at being the weakest link in the Gillant chain.

"Okay? Ready to stand?" Henry asked, all concern and Cal felt his forehead pull tight. Things must have gone really bad last night.

Cal nodded, not exactly knowing how to act around a worried dad. "Yeah. I'm good."

Once again, Cal felt himself hauled up by strong hands supporting his torso and set on his feet where the trees suddenly floated around him and Cal stilled, locking his muscles tight around the sudden need to push everything up from his empty stomach.

"Lookin a little green around the gills, bro."

"I'm fine. Let's just go." Cal took a step, knowing the older Gillants hovered around him, ready for him to fall, which only made him more determined not to. He shifted forward, satisfied that he could do this since his head only pounded a little with each step. How pathetic he'd be if he couldn't even make it back to the car when both his Dad and Jake were limping.

Just one foot in front of the other, Cal told himself. Just get to the truck. He felt like crap, nauseous and sweaty. He concentrated so hard on just staying upright, he didn't notice when he nearly walked into the Explorer's front fender.

"Whoa there." Henry steered him around the car. The squeak of the back side door sounded so welcoming, Cal thought he might cry. Jake had the door on the other side opened and a rolled blanket waiting to be used as a pillow before Cal slid onto the back seat.

"Thanks."

"Not a problem. Need anything else?"

"No. Just wanna get to the hotel."

"Yeah, actually…" Henry wavered.

Cal knew what he was gonna say and stiffened. "No, Dad. I don't need to. I'm okay. Really."

"Head wounds aren't something to mess around with. Cal, your melon took a beating."

"But I'm fine now. And how we gonna explain how dirty we are?"

"Cal." Henry's tone changed to the one that never gave an inch. "You were unconscious for hours. I…." His jaw clenched. "You're still not steady on your feet. Your wrist needs a cast anyway. We're going."

"Fine." Cal knew it was a lost argument. He hated hospitals, had spent far too much time there. The thought of going made his stomach roil. "But you're both getting checked out too."

"Fine." Henry and Jake both shut the back doors at the same time. This was going to be a fun drive.

As they climbed into the front and Henry turned the ignition and stepped on the gas, Cal glanced out the back window where a gremlin scurried across the glass and up.

"Dad! There's a gremlin on the roof!"

Henry slammed the breaks so hard, Cal rocked back against the seat and pain exploded in his head. Curling over, he pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes, hearing doors open and Jake and Henry talking over the hood of the SUV.

"Anything?"

"Could've gone up into the branches. Not that far of a jump," Jake reasoned.

"If there was a gremlin. I don't see how. Did you hear anything on the roof?"

"No."

"Cal?" His dad's voice was closer. He probably was leaning into the truck over the seat. "Oh, hey, head again?"

Cal didn't dare nod, could barely take a breath without the pounding increasing.

"Dad?" Jake's voice was real quiet, like he didn't want Cal to hear. "Do you think he's seein things?"

"I don't know, son." Dad spoke quietly too. "Let's get him the care he needs. Want to sit in the back?"

"Yes sir."

Doors opened and closed again. Cal was jostled a bit as Jake slipped in beside him, easing an arm around Cal's shoulder and let him roll his hand-covered face against Jake's chest. Cal stayed there the entire ride, palms against his eyes, letting the extra pressure of Jake's body help take the barest brink of the pounding away. He felt like such a child. And as Jake and Henry spoke in hushed murmurs, Cal didn't try to make out what they said. All he could think about was that gremlin. He had seen it, hadn't he? It seemed so real.