Thought I'd better post this tonight. We're under a wind (and fire) advisory through tomorrow evening (it's howling so loudly now I'm sure you can hear it through cyber space ;)) and as our internet access is through equipment secured in a very tall fir tree, don't know if I'll have access tomorrow. Besides, I left you with a cliffhanger!

Chapter 10

Previously:

Grabbing his handgun from his pocket, he slipped off the safety, trying to get a bead on the bear that sounded less than a couple of feet away. As he did so, the bear stood to its full height, roaring as it moved forward, charging him.

As he pulled the trigger, the bear slashed one huge paw at him. He cried out in shock and pain as the claws bit right through the layers of clothing into his skin, tearing along his right shoulder and chest, catching his arm, knocking him down and the gun out of his hand.

He was scrabbling for the rifle when a voice said softly, "Don't move, I've got him."

There was a hiss and the bear roared again although this time it sounded like it was in pain. Batting at its face, it rumbled away, growling and stopping to wipe its snout in the snow, rolling around in it, leaving traces of blood behind from Gibbs' bullet.

Still on the ground, Gibbs also rolled – screaming in agony - feeling like his entire right side was torn open. He felt hands on his pack and screamed louder as it and what was left of his parka were moved off him.

"Sorry but I need to see how bad it is, need to get the bleeding stopped."

In the middle of the worst pain he'd ever felt, Jethro recognized the voice. He'd found Tim – or rather Tim found him. Gritting his teeth, he worked to stay still and breathe while the other man carefully sliced through the parka, flannel shirt and thermal undershirt, ripping the clothing apart to see his chest, arm and shoulder.

"I'll pack this with snow to stop the bleeding and then make bandages."

Gibbs moaned, finally finding the breath to speak, "Pack. First aid, shirts."

"Ok, good. I'm called Fish."

Fish? Through the brutal haze of pain, he wondered what kind of name that was and why Tim didn't seem to recognize him. Didn't he know him? Rather than say Gibbs or Jethro, the injured man groaned, "Leroy."

"All right, Leroy. I'm packing this with snow, then I'll find your first aid kit, clean the wounds, bandage you up and then I'll make a fire with your fire pit and wood to keep you warm. Once the bleeding's stopped, and you feel up to it, I'll take you up to my cave. There's a path that's easy and I'll help you. It's not far."

Gibbs screamed again when the fresh and icy cold snow was packed against his open wounds but somewhere in his mind he knew it was for the best, he could bleed out quickly if it wasn't stopped.

He rested, grateful for the numbness that was seeping through his right side. When he smelled fire, he carefully turned his head, hearing himself whimper with the pain, to see Chuck's fire bowl with three of the logs, a good amount of kindling and the grill over the top. Tim or Fish was digging through his pack. At least he thought it was Tim, he was almost unrecognizable. The scraggly-looking man pulled out the large first aid kit, courtesy of Dr. Palmer, and one of the long-sleeved thermal shirts.

"If there's enough gauze, then the thermal can cover it. If not, I'll have to cut up the thermal to use."

Gibbs grunted his agreement. He blinked in surprise when his feet and legs were gently raised and put down on two sets of stacked logs and folded shirts. There was movement through the snow to his other side and he heard the whoosh of a match as a second fire was lit, near his left side.

Jethro heard Tim/Fish muttering, "Feet and legs are elevated and the fires are burning, need to keep you warm." Then a rustling as the large first aid bag was opened. "Good, lots of gauze, should be enough. We're going to need lots of antibiotic ointment and…yep, got it." The other man turned toward his patient, "You have a doctor pack this for you?"

Gibbs again grunted. He made more noise when a tarp was maneuvered under him so that he wasn't lying in the snow, blankets covering his uninjured parts. He groaned again when his rescuer carefully checked to see if the bleeding had stopped. It was down to a slow seep. Finding instructions for cleaning wounds in the medical kit, Fish heated a bucket of snow until it was cool and then squeezed in some of the mild soap he found in the medical kit.

"Ok, according to the notes I found in this kit, I need to clean the wounds by pouring cool water and soap over them for at least 5 minutes. We have plenty of water, I've got enough fresh snow water heated to a cool temperature to last through a few minutes of cleansing and I'll get the second bucket going. I think it's best if you remain in the same position, I'll put more blankets and towels over the rest of you so your clothes won't get any wetter."

Finding a thermos of water and a coffee pot, he poured the water in the pot, leaving out the coffee basket, and put it on the side of the grill, away from the heat. "No liquids for hypovolemic shock, don't think it's what you need right now. We'll wait a couple of hours, check your pulse again. Keep you warm, feet and legs elevated."

Fish kept up a steady narrative of what he was doing, keeping Gibbs awake and concentrating on listening to the man he thought, hoped, was his surrogate son. Towels were draped over him, not too close to his wounds. Something else was folded and put under his head. His knit cap now covered a wool scarf that was wrapped around his head and ears while another wool scarf was threaded behind his head to keep his neck and chin warmer. Hand and foot warmers were placed on his hands and feet.

He howled in pain as the water was poured over his wounds and then lay panting to catch his breath. The next bucket wasn't quite as bad but at the end of the 8 minutes, he felt like he'd been tortured.

Fish added 3 additional minutes of washing the wounds because Leroy's body was torn by a bear and he wanted to make sure all the dirt and bacteria were removed. He had nothing sterile with which to dry the wounds but the fires were close and did the job well enough. When he judged they were dry enough, he applied generous amounts of antibiotic ointment and then Leroy's right shoulder, upper chest and arm were wrapped in gauze, the sleeve of the clean thermal shirt gently slipped over it and fastened so it would stay. After he'd been allowed to rest for nearly an hour, his pulse was taken again and Fish said it was getting stronger every time he checked it.

"I found a pouch with tea bags and sugar packets in your pack. In a few minutes, I'll give you some hot tea with extra sugar and I'll check your injuries to make sure they're not bleeding again. Not supposed to give you liquids but don't want you to get dehydrated or go any deeper into shock."

Leroy grunted, "Blood?"

"A lot and pretty fast, but if it was too much, you wouldn't be conscious. I'd say more than a pint, which is the amount they take in a blood donation, but less than three pints which would be close to 30% of the total amount of blood in your body. I think you'd be dead already if you'd lost that much. You're going to need plenty of iron. Good thing I killed a deer this morning and I saw raisins in your pack. For now, just rest. We've got another three hours before we need to move."

"Vitamins in pack, meat in cooler, truck."

"Truck, where is it?" Fish looked around.

"Three hours walk, by lake. Trees, food hung."

"Ok, we'll figure that out later." Fish held the cup of hot tea to his lips and he sipped at it, making a face at the sweetness. The other man chuckled, "Yeah, I feel the same way. I'm not much of a regular tea drinker in the first place. But I believe this is good to help you get through the shock."

He dutifully finished the tea, feeling a little more like himself and then looked at Fish. "How long you been here?"

"Since mid-July. Long enough to learn how to hunt and trap, find shelter, wood, water, you know, survival stuff. How about you?"

Gibbs had his story ready, he wasn't sure about letting Tim know who he was just yet. "Heard about the caves, didn't realize winter would be so early."

Fish nodded, "Me neither. I was planning to make snowshoes but ended up with makeshift skis and poles. They're okay but I'd still like snowshoes."

"Can help you with that."

"Great! But first you need to rest and let your body start to heal."

Gibbs lay back, closing his eyes while Tim checked his right side. When he woke again, he felt more himself. He still hurt like hell but his brain wasn't as foggy with the pain and shock. The sun was shining and Tim/Fish was cooking something on the fire. It smelled good, like a meaty stew or soup. Gibbs decided if he wasn't going to tell Tim his name and history, then he needed to start thinking of him as Fish.

Fish smiled, "Good, you're awake, the soup is ready. Hope you don't mind, found it in your pack."

Gibbs huffed, "Not a problem, help yourself."

The other man helped him sit up, tucking the pack behind him to lean on and making sure he still had the tarp underneath him and was covered with the blankets. "Ok, here you go!"

He'd put Gibbs' soup in his coffee mug and now put it between his legs on the blanket and tarp.

"With one hand, I thought it might be easier for you to drink it."

Gibbs nodded but his hand shook so much when he tried to pick up the mug that Fish took it. "All right, you're still suffering some shock and maybe that's also from the blood loss. I'll hold, you drink."

Gibbs made a noise and bit by bit managed to drink the entire mug. Hot felt good and the soup, more of a stew, filled his belly. When he was done, Fish put the pan back on the grill to re-heat and then ate and drank it right from the pan.

"Ok. Two more things. I found extra strength Tylenol in the pack, so I'm going to give you two of those now, you can have 6 every 24 hours. I also found your multi-vitamins and there's a decent amount of iron in them, so you can take one with the Tylenol."

"Okay. Gonna have to pee."

"I had an idea about that. Let's get the meds and vitamin into you first."

Fish helped him with those and then rummaged through his own rucksack, pulling out an empty, wide mouth jar.

"Here, I think this will work. I'll hold the jar like this…"

Jethro wasn't thrilled but didn't see any way around it. He managed a rusty chuckle when Fish closed his eyes.

When he was through, the other man put the bottle aside and handed him 2 squares of toilet tissue. "Glad you brought this with you."

After, he held out a plastic bag with other trash in it, passed a wipe to his patient that also went into the trash and then took the bottle several feet away to empty it. He rinsed it with melted snow and then re-attached the lid, putting it in a plastic bag. "I'll wash it thoroughly when we get to the cave."

Putting everything neatly back in the pack, he tucked it behind Leroy's back once again before giving a sharp whistle. When Gibbs heard a bark in return, his first thought was to hope that Fish hadn't adopted a wolf. But this was still Tim McGee, no matter what he currently thought his name was.

A chocolate Labrador Retriever bounded over the snow; at a command it stopped near Fish, looking curiously at Gibbs. The dog wasn't displaying any signs of aggressiveness and Gibbs relaxed.

Fish looked at the dog, "Boss, this is Leroy." The dog barked once in acknowledgement and approached Gibbs.

Fish smiled, "Leroy, this is Boss. If you don't mind, he'll lick your hand and that's all it will take."

Gibbs was still trying not to laugh at the dog's name, it hurt too much. Tim may have some sort of memory loss but obviously things were still somewhere in his brain. First the 'G' and now "Boss".

Boss licked his hand and then went to sniff around, spending a lot of time sniffing the bear's trail. Tim wiped Gibbs' hand with a wipe. As susceptible as he would be to infection over the next few days, there was no need to add to the risk, who knew what his dog had been up to in the last few hours?

Fish smiled, "He was 8 months old when I was pulled out of the water, one of the puppies born to my rescuers' dog, Jane. They didn't know she was pregnant when they took her from a shelter and then 3 puppies appeared after they were settled in the camp."

"At least three stories in there."

Fish nodded, "When we get to the cave. All right, let's get you settled." Walking away a few steps, he returned pulling a travois.

"I made this to haul my kills to the cave. Boss is pretty good about pulling it. I'm going to put a blanket on it, then your sleeping bag and use some of your rope to make sure you're secure. I saw a harness but I don't want to touch your upper right side. Once you're inside your sleeping bag, rope will go around the sleeping bag where your legs and waist are, and the sled."

He got it ready and then pulled it closer to Leroy. "I think the easiest thing for you is to stay in a sitting position and I'll help you scoot onto the travois and lie down. I'll put the pack on the other side to keep it stable while we're getting you moved."

He looked at the ends of the sled, "Up or down?"

Leroy smiled tiredly, "Head looking east, please. Rather see where we're going."

"Ok."

The travois was a little different than his as the surface of the sled was made from sturdy tree limbs covering the whole length, instead of the strong netting on Chuck's. The pull handles were at the outer edges of the bar across the top end, rather than close together, and they had deerskin wrapped around them. Fish saw him looking and explained. "I put the ropes on that way so Boss can wear it like a harness without it choking him. It goes behind his front legs, around his chest and then I clip it together on his back. Less strain and he uses more of his back and chest muscles. The deerskin is for both of us, to avoid rope burn."

He looked at Leroy, "I think I'd better slip that other parka on you before we get moving. Although it's not far, it is cold."

He mumbled, "Okay." He wasn't looking forward to the parka being put on his painful right arm.

He should have known better. Fish got his left arm in, got the jacket around him, carefully draped it over his right side and zipped it up.

As Fish got everything together, Leroy took a better look at him.

Although he knew this was his missing surrogate son, he bore little resemblance to the man he'd last seen. This man was thinner than Tim had ever been, although not gaunt. From what little he could see, his muscle tone was impressive. His beard was scraggly and full, covering the lower half of his face and hanging just below his collarbone. His hair was even longer than his beard, although it was neatly tied back with a shoelace. He wore what looked like jeans although they had lengths of fur around the legs, maybe glued or sewn on, boots with leather and fur patches, a worn flannel shirt with a t-shirt peeking out from underneath and an outer covering of more fur, Gibbs decided it was bear. But his height was the same and his expressive eyes the same green-blue they'd always been.

"Fish, why don't you wear my snowshoes? And bring the parka you cut, we can fix it with my sewing kit. There's a heavy sweatshirt, socks and boots in the pack, you should wear them now."

"All right, if you don't mind, thanks." The other man opened the pack again, putting the sweatshirt on, zipping it up and flipping the hood up over his cold ears. Normally he wore a hat in the cold but went off without it this morning. Then, sitting on the travois, he pulled what was left of his boots off and sighed in happiness as the socks went on followed by the boots. He was surprised they fit but thought that was probably the cold, his feet must have shriveled a bit. Bundling his furs and boots, he slipped them into his deerskin rucksack, tied the fire bowl, his homemade skis and poles onto the back of Leroy's pack, clipped the snowshoes on and stood. Before he did anything else, he tied his rucksack onto the travois, there was no need to carry both Leroy's pack and his own.

"Wow, that feels great, Leroy, thanks!"

The tarp and blankets were secured on the travois with ropes, his pillow was inflated and tied on over the rucksack. Fish opened the sleeping bag, laying it out on the sled, "Ok, time to move. Boss and I will help from your left side."

It wasn't fun but with the Tylenol kicking in, it wasn't as painful as Leroy feared. Once he was lying on the sled in his sleeping bag, Fish carefully zipped it up, making sure the wool scarves weren't going to flap around or blow off. He left both arms in the bag; if Leroy wanted to move his left arm out, he'd help him but for now, Fish preferred everything tucked in. He looped rope around the sleeping bag, carefully avoiding his patient's injuries, tying it around the sled and then stepped back, feeling the injured man was as secure as possible under present circumstances.

Slipping the harness over Boss and knotting it over his back, Fish got Leroy's pack situated on his shoulders, fastened the waist strap and looked at Boss. "Ok Boss, home."

Boss moved ahead, not having any problem at all with the sled and its human passenger. Fish turned to Leroy, "He's used to hauling 200 lb. bucks and once we hauled a brown bear that had to weigh at least 500 lbs. Had to lose some of him to get home and it took both of us but for Boss, you're a lightweight!"

That amused the hell out of Leroy; he had to turn his head to hide his laughter and that hurt. Along with his astonishment at the dog's name, no one had ever accused him of being a lightweight, except maybe his ex-wives in the communication department.

They moved faster than he thought possible and although he did his best to look ahead, he was worn out, soon falling asleep.

Seeing his head rolling on the pillow, Fish motioned Boss forward while he walked back to check his pulse. Satisfied, he tucked a towel around Leroy's neck so his head wouldn't bounce around and walked beside the sled as they resumed their journey.

As he'd hoped, Boss pulled the sled all the way up the path to their cave home. They stopped a couple of times for dog and master to have a drink of water but their new friend continued sleeping and Fish was greatly relieved. He'd been afraid the trek would be very painful for his patient.

Once inside the cave, Fish removed the snowshoes and then led Boss, still harnessed to the sled, into what he thought of as the 'warm room'. It was the warmest area of the cave, with a hot spring in the rear of the 'room'. When the sled was where Fish wanted Leroy to be, he told Boss to stop. He'd leave Leroy on the sled until he woke. In the meantime, he removed the harness from his dog, untying and removing the ropes, bungee cords and towel from around the sleeping man.

Taking the pack into the other room, he quickly lit the solar lantern, happy to have light, other than sunlight or the light of a fire, inside the place. He set the heater and coffee can stove along the rock wall, on a low shelf of a flattish piece of wood supported by 3 large rocks. Filling a handmade clay bowl with water for his canine companion, he then dug out 2 pieces of deer jerky he'd made, tearing it up into bits for the dog.

Fish wasn't hungry yet, the soup had been more than he usually had during the day and although Leroy seemed to have a good supply of food, Fish didn't feel right in helping himself. He hoped it wouldn't snow for a few days so he could find the truck, get the rest of Leroy's food out of the trees and drive over here. Then he realized the search would have to wait until he was sure the danger of infection was past, he thought that would be close to a week. He had no idea if he knew how to drive. He probably did, the Andersons, his rescuers, told him most people did. Idly, he wondered where his rescuers were now and then blinked, he'd made the right decision to leave them. They were wanderers and that hadn't felt right for him.

He hoped, now that Leroy was here, that the other man could help him, they could help each other. While he didn't know his name or have any personal memories, he had retained some general knowledge and thought that if he could get to a town, he could have fingerprints and maybe his DNA checked. He hoped he could at least find out where he came from, even if he didn't have any family. And he was sure he could find some sort of work. The calluses on his fingers led him to believe he worked with his hands, he might even be a handyman or something useful like that.

While he didn't have a wedding ring on when he was pulled out of the water, he hoped there was someone who cared about him. There was someone he frequently dreamed about. He supposed it was possible the ring came off in the water, everything else had, except for one sock. Margaret said his body was shriveled from whatever amount of time he'd been in the water, so it could have happened.

He was happy to have human company, too. Boss was a wonderful dog, a great guardian and loved to help him hunt but he couldn't hold a conversation or play cards with him. When he'd been ready to leave Jim, Margaret, Kathy and their dogs, he hadn't considered that he'd feel so alone. He supposed not having any memories made that worse.

He smiled, he'd seen books in Leroy's pack and hoped he'd share. Fish had two books, one called "Survival in the Wild" that the Andersons gave him when he left them and the other one a bible he asked for when Jim wanted to leave it behind. Fish had already read it cover to cover and while he decided he wasn't a particularly religious person, at least not up to biblical standards, it was certainly interesting.

He'd spent more time with the Survival book; that's where he'd learned how to survive out here. He'd learned some from Jim and Margaret but this was rougher country and there was no one else to slip down to the creek to catch a fish for dinner or plant fruits and vegetables. While still at the camp, Jim had helped him make a bow and arrows once his hands healed and then taught him to track and shoot game. It hadn't been hard to learn and Jim said he bet Fish already knew how to track and to shoot. He'd killed several deer, the bear he'd mentioned and smaller game with his arrows. And the bear-pepper spray he'd used today, another gift from the Andersons, had come in handy more than once.

When he and Boss first arrived at the cave, it was empty and they happily moved in, glad for the hot spring and the double 'room'. It seemed, however, that they were not the only ones who liked the place. One day they returned home from an overnight hunting trip to find a bear asleep in the entrance room. Fish had his bear-pepper spray, knife, bow and arrows with him but he hesitated to kill a sleeping animal. Although he really could use the meat, fat, sinew and furs. And the claws, he remembered reading about ancient people using parts of bear claws as needles for sewing.

When Boss barked, the decision was taken out of Fish's hands as the bear woke and immediately charged the dog who was quick to move but stayed to guard his master. Fish used the bear-pepper spray, ordering the dog behind him. When the bear dropped to the floor, trying to claw its eyes out, he notched an arrow and shot it close enough to the bear's heart to kill him.

He cooked the meat right away. Most of it was made into jerky, marinated in a slew of spices and sauces given him by Margaret. She'd taught him how to make it; he let it marinade for 24 hours in a few of his clay bowls resting in larger bowls of cool lake water. Then he baked it on a low fire for several hours.

The rest of the meat was eaten in a few days, keeping cool in more of his bowls cooled in his only pan, full of lake water. The fur he removed from the carcass provided warmth for him at night and now during the day as winter arrived. Using his knife, he'd cut lengths and sewn them onto his only pants, jeans formerly worn by Jim Anderson, and used a homemade glue to patch his boots, also worn by Jim Anderson before they were given to Fish. He even had a bear fur hat although he hated wearing it. He'd made another one out of deerskin and that didn't bother him.

Deciding to move his furs to the warm room and sleep there where he could keep an eye on Leroy, Fish first built a fire in his raised rock fire pit in the entrance room, hanging several layers of deerskin across the opening to help keep the heat in and the cold out. There was still enough air coming in for them to breathe. Once the fire was going, he took Leroy's metal bowl into the warm room and laid a fire in that.

Lighting the lantern, he sat down on his fur, getting comfortable and took out his deck of cards, another parting gift from the Andersons. Margaret and Kathy taught him to play 'Go Fish', '4 Corners', 'Hearts', 'Rummy' and 'Gin Rummy' while Jim taught him to play different kinds of poker. That didn't last long though as once Fish knew the rules, he won every time. Luckily, Margaret also taught him to play several types of solitaire and he thought that's probably what was keeping him sane. Cards, the books and the scribbling he did. When Kathy gave him three of her prized blank notebooks, he decided to keep a journal that was turning into an open letter to 'G', whoever that might be. It was a way to explore his feelings, what he was learning, the things he liked and disliked about this life.

Tonight, he wrote of the bear attack on Leroy and everything else that had happened that afternoon. He wrote of his fear that the man would die and his relief when the wounds, although bloody and painful, weren't life-threatening. Unless infection set in.

Finishing the entry, he realized hours had passed and he was now hungry. Taking more of the jerky he'd given Boss, he tore it up into another bowl, adding a little water, mashing pieces of wild green onion into the mix. Covering the bowl with a well-worn piece of aluminum foil, he set it at the edge of his fire and then pushed it in with a long animal bone. While he knew there was a grill in Leroy's pack, he was again hesitant to use anything from there without the knowledge of the other man.

When the liquid had boiled for a few minutes, he used the same long bone to push the bowl back from the flames, letting it simmer for another 15 minutes before he decided it probably had all the flavor it was going to get. Carefully removing the foil, he set it aside to wash. He'd fold and put it away later; with precious little foil and many needs for it, he took good care of it.

He had a stash of wild berries he'd picked before the snow started and kept them cool and dry so they were still good - blueberry and blackberry. While he waited for his jerky soup to cool a little, he chopped blackberries into another of the bowls he'd made, adding hot water. After his soup, he'd have blackberry tea. He'd like to dry the rest of the berries, he'd have to check his Survival book for ways to do that. Or maybe Leroy would know.

Tomorrow he'd give Leroy blueberries as they had all kinds of good stuff in them. He was sure blackberries did too but he didn't know what they would be. He wished he had milk for them but he hadn't seen the wild goats or bison for a few weeks before the snow started and guessed they'd moved on. That reminded him to wash the pee jar, formerly the goat milk jar and he added another bowl of water to the fire.

He sat back, drinking his deer jerky soup, enjoying the onion flavor. A couple of weeks before the first snow, he'd found a patch of wild vegetables and brought them home. There wasn't much left now and the onions were his only seasoning. He smiled, maybe Leroy had some other seasonings. Garlic would be great as well as salt and pepper. He just had to be careful that Boss didn't get anything with either onion or garlic in it as both were toxic to him.

His tea was ready so he drank that before retrieving the pee jar from the plastic bag he'd put it in. He scraped a few shavings off his lone bar of soap into the jar with his knife, pouring the hot water in and putting it aside to soak. He figured two hot washes would be enough but wished he had some bleach. He frowned but shrugged, he was always having thoughts like this, wishing he had some specific thing although he had no idea what the thing was or would do. Kind of like having half a mind. Part of his brain evidently still knew what things were while the rest of it was blank, except for the new things he'd learned.

Hearing noises, he went to check on his patient.