Gator pointed to scuffs in the pine needles that were heading toward their present position. At one point, Jeb had been farther down the trail.
Creed turned to Gator. “Take Rou and see if there isn’t something where he’s come from.”
Gator brought Rou over to the boy and tapped his leg. “Rou, scent. Scent.”
It didn’t take many chuffs for Rou to resurface the odor in her memory.
“Track back,” Gator commanded.
“Track back” was a useful skill that took a bit for the dogs to understand. If this was their scent they were asked to find, why would their handler ask them to go away from their scent source?
There were several reasons why that skill was helpful, not the least of which was that if someone sustained an injury in the woods and their friend left them to get help, the person coming out of the woods might not remember how to get back to the injured subject. If a K9 could follow the trail back, it was golden.
Off they went, Rou, looking determined, leading Gator.
And Creed was left to search for clues and try to coax the boy into communicating. Finally, after long minutes of gentle questioning, Creed asked, “Did you feel okay when you went into the woods?”
Jeb nodded.
The kid had to be exhausted from his adventure and the sheer physicality of his distress.
Creed timed his next question to land as the child took a breath between screams. “Something happened to you in the woods?”
Jeb nodded.
“Can you point to where the bad thing happened?”
Jeb turned and pointed behind him as Gator rounded the tree with a piece of paper folded into a cup that he held gingerly in his hand. Gator crouched by Jeb, lowering the cup so the boy could see inside. “Jeb, did you eat some berries you found?” Gator asked.
Jeb pointed at the cup, and his screams turned to sobs.
Creed pressed his sternal comms, “Creed here. Possible Virginia creeper berry poisoning. Gator’s calling Logistics. Over.”
“Striker. Copy. Follow the medical instructions. The ambulance and paramedics are en route. Out.”
Gator waggled his phone. “Logistics is patching us through to Medical.”
“Dr. Jefferson, here. I have the picture of the berries and the plant. Our system confirms that the specimen is Virginia Creeper. Package the berries and send them with the boy to the hospital. You’re on the trail? How far are you out?”
Pressing the button that filtered out ambient noise so Dr. Jefferson would be able to hear Gator despite Jeb’s wails, Gator said, “Sprinting? Twenty minutes.”
“The berries have calcium oxalate, which are small, sharp crystals that can embed into the tissues in the mouth and throat and can be very painful. Any signs of anaphylaxis?” the doctor asked.
“I’m seeing redness and irritation,” Creed lifted his voice. “The boy is in obvious distress.”
“It’s not pleasant. Tiny cactus-like needle sensation is how I’ve interpreted the information. Let’s see if we can’t get him more comfortable. With a cloth, try to wipe his mouth out. Then, rinse and spit out the water to remove as much of the plant material as possible. See if he won’t drink some water to washthe crystals out of his throat and into his stomach. Ice chips would help.”
“They have ice back at the event site,” Creed said. “We can hook him up there.”
“You’ve put an ambulance en route?” Dr. Jefferson asked.
“Affirmative.”
“It’s up to the parents, of course, but I’d send him on to the hospital for an assessment, especially if you don’t know the quantity he’s eaten. We need him in medical care if he were to develop worsening symptoms. I’ll stand by while you implement the care plan.”
Creed wiped his hands with an alcohol cloth, then pulled on a pair of Neoprene gloves. He opened a package of gauze and wrapped it around his index and middle fingers. “Hey, Jeb, sounds like you have plant needles in your mouth. I’m going to swipe them out for you. I just need you to hold your mouth open for me.”
Creed looked at Gator. “Sounds worse than the rose hip seeds we used to torment the girls with when we were little. That just made us itch. You think wet or dry with this gauze?”
