“Then we need to go right now. We?—”
“Some of my ribs are broken. My right arm is useless. Something in the shoulder, it’s broken too; I felt it go,” he says, wincing. “I can’t run, and I can’t fight, and I can’t climb.”
“Okay.” I’m already working through it; triage, the way I’ve watched Robyn do it. Pressure first. I need to stop the bleeding. “Okay, so we?—”
“You have to go back to the cave.” His hand tightens on my shoulder. “You know the way. Stay in the thick growth, move quietly, get inside and stay hidden. I’ll come for you when I’m healed enough to move.”
He will be killed long before then.
I can’t leave him.
I won’t!
“No, Magma.” I shake my head.
“Carla, listen to me.”
“No.” I reach for the knot at my hip and drag my skirt loose. I fold it into a thick pad and press it against the worst of the slashes, and he hisses. “You came to this island for me. You’ve been throwing yourself between me and everything on it since the day we arrived, again and again, and now it’s my turn to help you. So you can save the speech. We are in this together…you and me…a team.” My voice hitches.
“There’s too much blood. It’s all over the ground. All over me.” His voice drops. He puts his hand over mine where I’m pressing the cloth to him, and I feel how much of it is soaking through already, warm against my palm. “They’ll come.”
“I don’t care.”
“You need to run and?—”
“You told me never to run from you. I won’t do it.”
He rolls his eyes and groans. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Here’s my version.” I pull back just enough to look him in the eye. “We’re going to the river. It’s not that far from here. We get you there, we clean these wounds so you’re not bleeding a trail through the jungle, we bind you up properly, and then we find somewhere to hide until you can move. We hole up together. I’m not leaving you here to die, so stop wasting your energy arguing with me, because you’re going to need all of it to walk out of here.”
He stares at me.
His jaw tightens, and his eyes blaze. I know he doesn’t like it, but I don’t care.
“You’re the most stubborn female I have ever met,” he growls.
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“Let’s sort out your arm and then we’re leaving, so best you be prepared to get your ass up and walk,” I tell him.
He gives me a pained smile, and something eases in me.
I use what’s left of my skirt to make a sling, which I tie behind his neck, holding it in place.
“That’s a little better,” he pushes out.
Then I help him up. It takes some effort and a few grunts before he’s on his feet. He sways, and I grab him by the arm to hold him in place.
“Which way to the river?” I ask.
He tips his chin at a gap in the green, and we start walking. It’s agonizingly slow, even though he’s leaning heavily on me.
I glance at him, and he’s ashen. Trickles of his blood run warm down my side where his ribs press against me. His breathdrags in and out through his teeth. Every few steps, a sound gets away from him, but we’re moving.
As long as we keep moving, there is hope.
