Chapter 9
Greg tried to keep his wits about him as he secured the rope to his waist, calling down to Declan every couple of minutes and trying to abseil down the rock face as quickly as possible without ending up in the same situation. His mind was racing as he descended, trying to remember everything he'd been taught about first aid and field dressings. Greg looked down periodically to check his progress. He kept calling down to Declan, trying to keep him talking so he wouldn't pass out.
By the time Greg reached the base of the rock, Declan was struggling to get to his feet, insisting that he was okay. Greg quickly untied the rope from his waist and moved to stop his friend from standing up. Declan finally relented and lay back. He was bleeding from several deep gashes and scrapes on his head and body, and his right arm was bent at a very unnatural angle. Greg pulled the first aid kit from his cargo pocket and set to work, trying to stop the bleeding on a small but deep puncture wound in Declan's side while at the same time trying to keep him talking and figure out how to splint his arm.
Greg could tell that Declan was having a tough time following instructions and seemed to be going into shock. He pulled the rope down from the rock face and stashed it out of sight with the packs, hoping that no one would notice that they'd been there. Greg was grateful that the hike back to the trailhead where their bikes were was downhill, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to be precarious, at least until they got to the smooth graded path further down.
Greg shook Declan back into awareness. "Declan. You've gotta work with me here, buddy. You're going to have to stay awake, okay?" He pulled out one of the mylar space blankets and wrapped it around Declan's shoulders to keep him warm.
Declan murmured a rather lethargic and slightly slurred, "N'kay," but he managed to stay coherent enough to walk down the trail, supported by Greg, without tripping over anything. They stopped frequently so that Greg could keep an eye on the puncture wound in Declan's side. He kept adding or replacing gauze pads each time they stopped, but the wound kept bleeding.
They continued down the trail, making slow progress as the afternoon wore on. Greg tried to get them moving faster once the trail began to get easier, but Declan was having too much trouble keeping his footing. He was complaining of dizziness and Greg noticed that his skin was feeling clammy. He knew there was no way Declan was going to be able to ride his bike, so as soon as they reached the road beyond the trailhead Greg started looking for someone who might be able to help him get Declan to a hospital.
As he waited, he tried to think of the Japanese words for "help" and "hospital" - they weren't that far along in first level Japanese, not that Greg would have ever thought he would have needed to know such words so soon. He asked Declan, but Declan was too far out of it to do much more than try to stay on his feet.
The wait seemed to take forever, but finally an old truck rumbled to a stop alongside them. The driver leaned across the seat and rolled the window down.
"Nani ga mondaidesu ka?" What is the problem?
Greg shrugged and shook his head at the driver, although he had a pretty good idea what the driver had asked him.
"Anata wa watashitachi o tasukeru koto ga dekimasu ka?" Can you help us? Greg stumbled over the words as he spoke and fervently hoped the driver would at least get the gist of what he was trying to say. "Watashi no yujin go kega o shite imasu。" My friend is hurt.
Greg held his breath as he waited for the driver to process the young man's mangled words. He nodded, seeming to understand, and opened the passenger door to let the boys into the truck. Greg breathed a sigh of relief to himself as he helped to get his lethargic friend inside, then climbed in.
"Anata wa, sensei o teishi kansha。" Thank you for stopping, sir.
Once Greg was settled and the driver had pulled his truck back onto the road, the driver looked over at the boys. He said something in rapid-fire Japanese that went completely over Greg's head; the only thing Greg could think of to say in response was the word for hospital, byõin. The driver nodded as they headed back into town.
Greg looked over at Declan, whose skin had taken on a grey tinge. He seemed to be having a having a difficult time breathing. Greg worried about how much blood Declan may have lost and his trouble staying awake. Greg talked to him the entire ride to the hospital, occasionally imploring Declan to stay with him any time he noticed Declan starting to lose consciousness.