Page 15

“It was probably an animal. Let's go.” He tightens his grip on my shoulder, turning us back down the trail.

“Ooohh, waaahhh! Ooooh waaahh!”

We jump back in the direction of the destruction. I look at Cain, his eyes wide, nostrils flaring, and his Adam’s apple motioning with a swallow.

“C-Cain, there’s… There’s a baby!” My voice splinters as the words tumble out.

“Ah, ah, ah, ooohh waaahhh!” The baby cries out again. Cain darts his gaze to me and squeezes my shoulder.

“Don’t move,” Cain says, then he captures my lips in a kiss before entering the woods.

I wrap one arm around my middle, clutching my elbow, my opposite hand pressing against my mouth as I try to hold myself together. My hands and feet turn cold and clammy. My heart races in staccato bursts, drumming unevenly, skipping and stuttering with every step he takes, as his skills are put to the test in the darkness.

The baby’s cry echoes, cutting through the entangled trees and scattered brush. Each desperate aria ripping my heart to pieces.

Cain kneels, picking up the tiny baby and securing her to his chest. He turns, sprinting back to me down the narrow path he cleared on the way there.

“Take her! Run back to camp. Her mother is still breathing. I’ll be right behind you.” Cain steps close, gently placing the baby on my chest, her tiny body feeling light as can be as I wrap my arms around her. She can’t be more than a few weeks old. Then Cain locks eyes with me for a beat before turning and sprinting back into the woods.

I want to stay and wait for him. I want to know that he will be okay.

But I can’t.

“Ah, ah, ah, ooohh waaahhh!”

With this little life in my hands, I turn on my heel and take off towards the camp. Eyes forward. One stride at a time. Breath in, breath out. No more than a quarter of a mile, and we will be there.

Thundering footsteps rush up behind me. Cain blasts past on my right, a backpack strapped tight, and the mother lying limp in his arms. My chest tightens, my lungs burning as I force the cold air in.

Almost there…

The trail opens to the glade, our campsite quiet, unaware of the situation.

“Dr. Frolov!” Cain’s voice booms as he enters the medical tent. I push through the last stretch, then slip through the canvas. The mother lies flat on the table. One leg is traumatically amputated, the other barely hanging on. Blood coats her middle and soaks her pants. Dr. Frolov is already at her side, assessing the situation. Cain turns to me, his long, inky strands sticking to his forehead from the sweat.

“I’ve got her,” his voice calm, his fingers brushing over mine as he reaches for the baby, bringing her to his chest. I nod, then go to the mother’s side.

“Gauze! Pack the wound!” Dr. Frolov commands, and I jump in. Grabbing the gauze, packing, and press it against the gushing blood. “Tourniquet the remaining leg!” I grab the strap and bar from the nurse’s cart, tie it above the blast injury, and tighten. “Start IV—saline, fast!” I pull out our prepared tray and put it on the table. Brushing my fingers over her forearm, I find a suitable vein. I wipe her down with an alcohol swab, press the needle into the vein, tape it, and open the flow. “Get me clamps and bandages!” Returning to the cart, I grab the clamps and bandages, step back to Dr. Frolov’s side, and hand them to him.

Then I see it…

Her chest has stopped moving.

Grabbing her wrist, I check her pulse. My heart sinks to my stomach, my throat tightens.

“Radial pulse absent!” I call out, and Dr. Frolov freezes for a beat.

“Check carotid!” I press my fingers to her neck, and my limbs turn cold.

“Carotid pulse absent!” Dr. Frolov releases a heavy sigh.

“Time of Death, Four fifteen.”

“What? No!” I dart my gaze to him, then back to the mother. “We have to try…” Placing one hand over the other, lacing my fingers together, I press my hands to her chest. My hands fall into the rhythm I’ve practiced time and time again. “One-two-three-four.”

“Miss Daily…”

“Five-six-seven-eight.”