Chapter 10
Jake wanted to check his wound, but his instincts told him to get away from there. So instead, he started the truck and headed for Three Ponies.
His feet still felt like blocks of ice and it was difficult for him to drive since he couldn't feel the pedals with his feet. The truck crept along, Jake checking the rearview mirror for anyone following him. There wasn't anyone.
Jake didn't even look in at River Bend when he passed by again. He was concentrating on making it home.
He pulled into Three Ponies and was groaning by now. His feet were trying to thaw out and it felt like hundreds, oh heck, thousands of needles were being poked through his skin.
Jake leaned back, trying to catch his breath. He was still gasping from the pain in his feet and his arm that all he wanted to do was stay where he was at, but Jake knew how dangerous that was. He could end up losing his feet if he didn't get them warmed up and he needed to check his arm.
He groaned as he got out of the truck, the pain in his feet almost dropping him to his knees. Jake managed to stumble across the yard and into the house. He went through the kitchen, then the family room to the hallway where the boys' rooms were located.
Jake's room was the last one in the hallway and it looked a million miles away to him. Each painful step was agony as he headed for his room. When he reached it, he shut the door behind him and let out a moan as he stumbled to his bed and collapsed.
He wanted nothing more than to just lie there, but he had to get his soaked boots and socks off and look at his arm. His arm hurt as he tried to get the laces loosened on his boots. His fingers weren't working properly and he couldn't seem to get them undone. Finally he took his pocketknife out of his front pocket and just cut the laces. He pulled the boots off and then his sodden socks.
Jake's feet looked like snow, they were so white. He knew he was in trouble, but he had to thaw them out slowly.
He went to his dresser and grabbed a fleece shirt. Jake went back to his bed and wrapped his feet in the fleece. He was surprised at how much they hurt.
Time to check the arm. He pulled off his sweatshirt, then his turtleneck. He groaned as the fabric pulled on the abrasion on his arm. At least the bullet had only creased him. It shouldn't be too serious once he got it cleaned up.
Jake heard the soft knock on his door.
"Who is it?" Jake asked quietly.
"Nate."
"Come on in," Jake told him.
Nate came in, taking in Jake's feet in the fleece and then he saw the ugly, red mark on his little brother's arm.
"What happened?" Nate came closer, taking Jake's arm in his hand for a closer look.
"I got creased," Jake responded.
"You got shot?" Nate almost yelped.
"Shhh," Jake warned him, looking towards the closed door. "He missed me for the most part."
"This needs to be cleaned," Nate told him.
"I know," Jake nodded.
"What's wrong with your feet?" Nate asked, looking down.
"Frozen," Jake answered.
"What?"
"I had to use the river to get away," Jake informed him.
"Holy smokes, Jake," Nate exclaimed. He bent down and took the fleece shirt off of his younger brother's feet. "Oh gosh."
"Yeah," Jake nodded.
"I'll get a space blanket," Nate stood back up. "I'll be right back."
"Okay."
Nate left the room and Jake slumped as he sat on the bed. Man, his feet were killing him. They hurt worse than his arm.
Nate was back within minutes with a space blanket and antiseptic.
"This should help," Nate said, wrapping Jake's feet in the space blanket.
"Thanks," Jake murmured. He was exhausted.
"Let's take care of the arm," Nate took the antiseptic and cleaned the wound on Jake's arm.
The antiseptic stung and Jake sucked in a breath at the contact.
"Sorry," Nate glanced at his brother's face.
Jake shook his head.