Don't Open That Door - GoM 1

10

Alex walked into the woods, carrying her empty bottles and a hand towel. She lingered by the thin stream, filling her bottles and washing herself in no hurry.

Funny. Even hurt and weakened, Tom was far from being harmless. Yet she wasn't afraid of him. Actually, her curiosity about him would've taken the worldwide population of felines to the brink of extinction. Not to mention that all the fuss about him had made her forget for a while all about the ertes and that awful night at Murray's place.

The radio in her jacket's pocket clicked and she grabbed it with a mild smile, sitting on the grass by the stream.

"Morning, hun," she said.

"Morning, darling," Jeff replied.

"What's up?"

"Sheriff Graham and your hunter friends didn't find anything yesterday. They're going out again in a while and we wanted to check on you."

"Safe and sound. No need to come this way." Why didn't she want to tell them about Tom?

"How long are you camping at the Hollow?"

"I think I'm heading back tomorrow noon." If Tom's wounds allow him to walk all the way down.

"Be ready for rain, then."

"You're knee's hurting?"

"Like hell. It'll come down tonight tops. Stay in touch."

"Not if I can help it."

"Your loss."

She put down the radio, turning to look at the quick icy water. Just when she was about to ask herself again about her not telling Jeff that she'd found the mysterious archer, she recalled she needed more lion shadow. Well, she could pick it up on her way back.

Tom was still sitting by the fire, slicing with his knife one of his T-shirts in neat stripes to dress his wounds. He paused for a heartbeat at the sound of her footsteps behind him, but he didn't look back.

Alex approached the fire as he removed the cloth from his thigh. She was surprised to see the wound was already almost closed.

"That looks way better than I expected," she said. Actually, Wolverine's-lost-brother better.

"I heal fast." He kept his eyes down on his leg. "And you're skilled."

Alex flashed a quick smile at his unexpected compliment and handed him one by one all the things he needed to bandage his thigh. She stopped him when he pulled up his flannel on his injured side.

"You should really lay down for this."

"Fresh air's good for me."

He was some piece of work, stubborn like a donkey. Maybe Wolverine's brother was a lost cousin of hers? Pretty possible, considering what Alex knew about Old Bootter's roaming years. She pulled her sleeping bag closer to him. Tom looked up at her as if she'd done something crazy. She swallowed a sigh. It was Claire's childhood tantrums all over again.

"If you don't wanna go back into the tent, then lay here. 'Cause you can't do it like that, sitting and twisting."

To Alex's surprise, he agreed and moved carefully from the stump to sit on her bag, bearing the pain. She brought his backpack and handed him her pot full of warm water.

"We both need changing our clothes," she said. "Take your time."

Alex certainly took hers. After wearing her last clean clothes, she lingered tiding up the tent. She took his sleeping bag and her backpack out and left the tent wide open to air it. She found Tom buttoning up a clean flannel. He'd refilled her pot and left it by the fire. So she grabbed it, along with the last strip of clean cloth, ointment and metal tape, and sat down by him.

"You should lay back," she said with a quick smile.

He shook his head, buttoning his cuffs. She stared at him until he faced her, then she arched her eyebrows—well? Tom was just about to roll his eyes. Instead, he stretched his legs on the sleeping bag slowly, lay back and bent an arm under his head. Alex swallowed a triumphant smile as she pulled up his flannel. Ha! Took one to know one, right?

Tom held his breath as she removed the dressing as gently as she could. Just like his thigh, his side was healing at the speed of light. She sensed his chill when she washed the wound.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's okay," he muttered through clenched teeth. "You know, I don't know your name."

She understood he was trying to make conversation to get distracted from the pain. So she replied in a soft way, keeping her eyes on his side.

"Alex Corban, nice to meet you."

"And what were you doing up here all by yourself, Alex?"

So he knew how to be nice. That is, when he wasn't holding a big knife to her throat or being Corban-stubborn.

Alex shrugged. "Looking for dying psychos in the woods?" She glanced up at his face. He'd raised only one eyebrow, eyes up on the sky—and they were so clear in the morning light.

"That's what the locals think about me?"

"Yep. The wolves are not wolves, but your hounds. And you're some nutjob with a taste for human game."

"But you don't agree."

"I saw what the wolves did to you. I can tell you almost died saving those city brats."

"However, why bother helping me?"

"You were bleeding your guts out. What was I to do?"

"Ask for help over your radio."

"You wouldn't have made it alive to the hospital."

"You speak like you care."

There was no animosity, no second intentions in his words. Alex spread the ointment to cover his wound.

"Don't worry, I did it for me," she said with another shrug. "Guess I needed to feel one of the good guys for once."

He nodded, as if appreciating her honesty. Alex took his hand to make him hold the dressing in place while she taped it.

"Why come here if there's a pack of wolves or a killer on the loose?"

Alex smiled when he resumed his questioning. "I didn't know when I got here."

"They sure warned you down at the Forest Station. And you came this way all the same."

Damn. It did take one to know one. She pulled Tom's flannel down.

"Why were you following the pack?" she asked, ignoring his last question.

She dropped the dirty dressing into the fire with a handful of lion shadow. Tom ignored her question as well and turned to look at the fire, sniffing the smoke.

"Lion shadow?"

Now we're even, huh? "Yep. To keep your wolves away."

"Thought it was only good to make energizing tea."

"It works as an energizer?"

Tom nodded, rubbing his face with a sore sigh.

Alex straightened up. "We need more firewood. Can you stay put for a while?"

The hint of a weary smile pursed Tom's lips. He patted his waist and his side pocket. "My knife..."

Alex handed him the Magnum. He frowned, puzzled at her trust.

"This will do better," she said.