Donners of the Dead

Chapter 14

We ran for a long time, through the black night, through the rain that picked up again, until there stopped being snow beneath our feet. It didn't relieve me—nothing would. I kept grabbing onto Jake every few minutes, knowing he was in pain from his burn but so grateful that he was alive. It was as if I had to keep making sure that he was safe and with me and that we had survived.

But I felt like our survival so far meant nothing until we got off the mountain. Yes, the monsters were all dead, but how did we know that was all of them? We had never seen Hank. Was it possible that he was still behind us, scavenging on his brethren? Was it possible that he was trailing us in the shadows?

We walked until we found the shelters that we had built our first night out. One was destroyed, the makeshift roof caved in, perhaps by the snow that had fallen, but the other one, the one I had slept in with Donna, was still standing. It pained me to think about Donna, and of course Avery, how long ago it felt in some ways, yet in others it felt like just this morning. Donna's kind words, Avery's comfortable presence.

Now Jake and I were hunkering down, wrapped in animal skins. He promised me he would keep watch, and as much as I wanted to help him, to tend to his wounds the best I could and make him better, I couldn't. He didn't have any alcohol for the pain and my body pulled me into sleep. Even fear couldn't keep my eyes open. Not this time.

I woke up at the crack of dawn, my head nestled against Jake's shoulder. He was awake but barely. He looked so terrible that I felt like crying. His skin was greenish white and clammy, his forehead feverish to the back of my hand.

"Jake," I whispered, trying to get him to look at me. I brought his chin toward mine with my fingers.

He tried to smile but failed. His eyes were drooping shut and unfocused. I looked down at his arm and nearly dry-heaved. His jacket and shirt sleeve underneath had completely burned away, leaving his skin raw and exposed. It was a black and pink mess of burned and blistering flesh.

I put my hand to my mouth. "Jake. No. We have to fix you, now."

I went for the pack but remembered I had used the last of the first-aid supplies on his shoulder, another thing we probably had to worry about.

He shrugged out of my grasp. "No, Eve, no. We have to go."

He tried to get up but swayed unsteadily.

"But the burn," I said. "It'll probably lead to an infection."

He gave me a lazy but pained glance. "Darlin', you saved my life back there. It won't be for nothing. I promise you that. We'll get ourselves to River Bend. It's not far now. And we'll get ourselves both fixed up."

As much as I wanted to argue with him, I knew that I couldn't. He was right. Unless I found a natural healing agent such as wild honey, which was impossible at this point, we couldn't do a thing. It tore me up inside—yes I did save his life, but it was my fault for missing in the first place. If I had just shot properly, the monster would have died and Jake would have survived unscathed.

This time I carried the pack, the axe, and the rifle. As dirty and tired and hungry as I was, I wasn't about to let him shoulder all the weight.

We went off into the woods, at first walking as fast as we could, but over time Jake grew tired. His pace slowed, his long legs tripping him up. A few times he started to pitch one way or the other, and it took all of my minute strength to keep his massive body from both falling to the ground and crushing me.

We were moving into new terrain, I could feel it in the air around me. The smell of sweet pine and decaying leaves, the freshness to the ground that was untouched by snow and sprinkled with light rain. The ground beneath our feet became more level and the path wider. The carved-in ruts of wagons appeared. Here and there I could make out horse tracks in the dirt, some of them even heading in our direction. There was no time to check on how fresh they were though, there was only time to get us home.