Trigger

19

Stormy took out bandages from Trigg’s first-aid kit. There was ointment, too, so she pulled that as well.

She turned back to him, beginning to dab the wounds with ointment.

“Those were all poisoned then?” Stormy asked.

Trigg nodded, his eyelids fluttering.

“It's a faster way to kill shifters since we heal so quickly,” he said.

Stormy applied the ointment, watched Trigg cringe, then applied loose bandages. She wasn’t even sure he was going to need it after having the bullets taken out.

She wrapped the bandages around his torso and near his collarbone. She also abruptly realized that he was naked and thought perhaps she should put the blanket over him.

“You need to rest,” she said.

Trigg tried to stand, but it was no use. He flopped to the ground unconscious.

After wrapping him in the blanket, Stormy sat next to Trigg, trembling to her core. She had never witnessed anything so ghastly, let alone had to do such horrid work herself. The moments digging into his flesh with the tweezers and prying out the bullets would stay in her mind for a long time. She knew that.

She realized that she was cold as well as emotionally exhausted. She was probably going into shock herself. It was as if she watched her thoughts marching by on a railroad track as if they were detached from her somehow. Numbly, she put on her jacket.

She looked Trigg over, relieved to see that his wounds were closing, and the bleeding had slowed. There was still a lot of dark red blood staining the snow underneath him, and it frightened her.

He was so pale. His skin was almost the color of the snow beneath him, and with his white hair and almost transparent eyelashes, he looked like a ghost, something born of the very frost itself.

As she watched, his breathing began to slow. He looked like he was falling into an even deeper sleep, and for a moment, she almost curled up next to him and let it happen.

No!

Something in her mind shrieked. She tore herself free from the cobwebs of shock that clouded her thinking. She knew if she lay beside Trigg, neither of them would get up again. She shook him roughly.

“Get up, Trigg, get up!” she yelled at him. His eyelids didn’t even flutter.

She was desperate for a moment as emotion roared through her. She didn’t know what to do, but at least this raw fury was better than the numbness of a few minutes ago. She was afraid of how cold his skin was, how slow and shallow his breath was.

I have to get him warm.

She thought about making a shelter right here. Something made of branches and blankets, but she quickly discarded the idea. She’d never be able to build something sturdy enough to keep them both warm, and she wouldn’t be able to light a fire inside it. There was only one thing she could think to do.

Drag him back to the cabin.

Impossible! I nearly died just walking that distance today. How can I possibly go all the way back and drag him too?

She didn’t let herself think about it. She put Trigg’s jacket around him and rigged up a stretcher out of every bit of clothing and all the blankets they had. Rolling him into it was one of the hardest things she had ever done. A human being was far heavier than she’d expected, and Trigg was huge, tall, and muscular.

She collapsed across him, breathing hard. She could feel his heart fluttering weakly, and she knew she had no choice. She had to do this, or she would lose him.

With a groan, she got up and gripped the ends of the blanket. Her feet slipped out from underneath her on her first step, and she fell face-first into the snow. She cried out, tears freezing on her cheeks as she got up. Low sobs clogged her throat, but she refused to acknowledge them.

She realized she’d have to get the momentum going first. The slick ground should help with that. She leaned her weight forward and wiggled back and forth until her makeshift stretcher began to move forward, then she threw her weight into it, taking a big step forward.

The stretcher slid after her, moving easily across the rocks. It was heavy, but she didn’t dare stop or slow down. If she lost momentum, it would take twice as much effort to get it going again, and she wasn’t sure she had it in her.

Every step was agony. Tears ran down her cheeks, her breath burnt her throat, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t look back to check on him. All she could do was keep taking step after painful step over the rough terrain.

She went around thickets of trees whenever she could, trying to keep the stretcher moving. Whenever she had to stop, the effort of getting it moving again almost broke her. She held her chaffed and cracked fingers against the threads that cut into her skin and moaned in pain as she pushed forward.

Just when she started to think she was truly lost, she saw a faint light up ahead. The sight rejuvenated her immediately. All her pains faded as she thought of a warm fire and a hot drink. She leaned even harder forward and began to run.

The stretcher slid more easily across the flat ground near the cabin. It was colder now, and she knew if they had spent the night by the creek, they would not have survived very long. A bitter wind was screaming down from the peaks, and even though she had exerted herself so much, she was freezing.

Getting him up the stairs was a terrible effort but seeing the fire so close gave her hope. She would get him warm, and he would wake up.

He has to wake up.