Ranger's Apprentice - Rescue

Chapter 18

Will could feel the first signs of trouble already.

It had only been a few days since he'd woken up in the dungeon with George. Aside from a few guards bringing their meals and water, there wasn't any contact with their captors. The whole time, Will had kept a constant pattern of letting his leg have a little blood flow, just to keep it viable, and then having George retie the shirt around his thigh before he bled out.

He knew he could only keep that up for so long, but he'd hoped for more than three or four days.

"How are you feeling?"

It was George, with his ever-present worrisome expression as he glanced over at Will. Over time, Will had begun to find the other boy's concern quite annoying. It wasn't necessary.

Little did he know, though, that it was indeed a natural reaction. Because what Will couldn't see, but George could, was that his face paled with every passing day. His energy levels dropped to the point where Will hadn't actually moved in the past two days. His eyes were only half open when he was awake at all, and his words were usually slurred.

In the back of George's mind, he knew, even without medical training, that Will couldn't possibly last much longer without proper medical attention. He would either lose his leg or his life. And George had already failed his own mission. He couldn't bear to return to Redmont and face everyone having been the cause of the great Ranger Will Treaty's downfall.

"Maybe Halt is coming," George reasoned aloud, glancing over at Will again. The boy's eyes were fluttering. George felt a sickening sliver of worry in his stomach.

"Don't you think, Will?" he asked, trying desperately to keep his friend talking. Will swiveled his head lazily over to George.

"Hmm?"

"Don't you think Halt's on his way?"

Will blinked slowly.

"Mhm," he mumbled. George chewed his lip. He couldn't take it any longer. Sitting still was causing him more emotional discomfort then he could bear. He stood, pacing nervously.

"He is on his way," he muttered to himself as he paced. "I know he is. He's got to be. Because... it's in his character! Yes, that's right. It's in Halt's nature to come after you, Will. Look at the statistics. The facts are all there, after all! When you were taken off to Skandia, Halt came after you. He risked it all to come after you, in fact! And when you went missing in Arrida, I recall overhearing him tell Lady Pauline that he'd been worried sick about you and had almost torn the dessert apart wanting to find you. So the fact of the matter is, there's too much evidence pointing to Halt's character being one that would send him off looking for you."

George paused, a sudden thought crushing his confidence.

"Of course," he said, continuing his pacing. "There's always the fact that he has no way of knowing we've been captured."

Then, his mind fighting for another logical point, he found it.

"Ah!" he cried, sticking a finger up in the air. "But you sent your horse running away when we were ambushed. And Rangers' horses are beyond smart! So he probably went to find Halt! Of course... it would take him a good week or two to find his way back to Redmont Castle... and another good week for Halt to travel back, and then, assuming your horse could miraculously remember where we were taken, Halt still would have no idea where to find us. And by that point, it could be too late."

George sighed. This was getting him nowhere, other than one step closer to a panic attack. He whirled around suddenly.

"Help me out here, Will," he begged. "This is your job, after all. Think through this and get us out of here!"

But his next words died in his throat when his eyes found Will slumped against the wall, completely unconscious.

"Will!"

He leapt to the boy's side, feeling his chest contracting in fear. He shook Will' shoulder, gingerly at first and when he didn't respond, more violently. Still, Will didn't stir.

"Will, come on!"

George felt his heart beating in his throat. There was a loud roar in his ears. Dimly, he could also hear himself gasping for air. He was panicking.

"Well of course you're panicking!" he cried out loud to himself. He began pacing again. It was odd, how the action seemed to settle his mind and help him think more logically.

"Okay, okay, calm down," he muttered. "Will needs you. He needs you. You have to think. Think! What would Will do? What would Will do? What would Will do?"

He continued repeating the words to himself as he paced until finally something clicked. George rushed over, hesitating briefly. He knew his next step should be to check Will's pulse, but he didn't know how to do that.

He cursed under his breath.

"Stupid books don't help in these situations at all," he grumbled. It was times like these when he was extremely jealous of Will's useful, practical training.

Finally, George sighed and settled for the only thing he could think of. He stuck his index finger just below Will's nose and waited impatiently.

"Come on..." he whispered, trying desperately to keep his hand steady.

Finally, he felt a small puff of air on his finger. He took a deep breath of relief.

"Okay, so he's still alive," George said, sitting back on his heals. "But how do I keep him that way?"

He thought for several minutes, but answers eluded him. He simply just wasn't trained for this. It was irritating. He made a mental note to study medical books extensively if they ever got out of this mess.

As for now, they had only one hope, he realized in fear.

"Halt," he muttered miserably. "Please be on your way."