Chapter Three: Though I walk through the valley

Richard had been so distracted as he returned to his mat that he had forgotten to find something to elevate his leg. Instead, he just laid down, flat on his back, and stared up at the jagged cave ceiling.

Camille.

His mouth had felt good saying the name, even though his ears were wishing that he hadn't heard it, because hearing the name instantly evoked thoughts, and thoughts were painful things. But any objections he would have had to hearing the name were irrelevant anyway; the cycle had been begun, and there was no stopping it now. His eyes drifted closed and he imagined her face in his mind, remembered the sound of her voice, remembered the twinkle of amusement that would flash through her eyes when she laughed at him. He also remembered the fire that would ignite in her gaze when he thoroughly infuriated her. The more he thought of her, the more he wanted her back, and the more something in his chest would constrict.

But as much as he could remember, he was even more worried by the things he had forgotten. Case in point: her hands. He couldn't remember what they looked like. Did she keep her nails long or short? Were those nails ever painted, and if so, what colors? Were they soft? Richard inhaled deeply as he let his imagination investigate that thought. Yes, he was almost certain they were soft. But would they be now? Richard could account for how quickly a pair of pristine hands could get dirty and callused after living in the jungle for a few weeks. But who's to say Camille was living in the jungle? In fact…

Richard's eyes opened and he gulped painfully. That was the real rub, wasn't it? He couldn't even be certain that Camille was still alive at all. And that was the sole thought that Richard battled every day to keep from entering his mind. He couldn't stand the thought that she might no longer exist in this world. In his world. He could try to keep her alive through his memory and his actions, but that wasn't enough. He needed her to still be around, even if she was off with a little group of survivors of her own. Richard smirked subtly at the thought. Camille would be good at that. In fact, she'd probably be succeeding at it quite a lot better than he was.

Richard used Camille sort of like a personal compass these last few months. His position within their little society was an election he somehow won without campaigning, and it required both empathy and selflessness, traits that did not belong to him normally but which he had seen Camille demonstrate countless times before. Richard had intentionally tried to adapt his personality to better reflect hers because it was all he knew to do. He could afford to be pedantic, self-obsessed, finicky, and bull-headed as long as the world still spun on its axis and life was normal. But amidst the disaster and hopelessness of their current situation, Richard rapidly realized that he would have to change. He wasn't solving crimes anymore, he was handling the very delicate hopes of a people, and learning the fragility of the human spirit. So long as no one started murdering each other, these people didn't need a Richard Poole; they needed a Camille Bordey.

"I thought I told you to elevate this," Holden said, appearing from nowhere and crouching down by Richard's mat.

The doctor had arrived sooner than Richard had expected, which made him wonder how long he had been lying there, thinking of her. He looked down at his leg as Holden began to touch it gently. "Yeah, I um, I just forgot," Richard answered.

The doctor snorted at the admission, "Glad to know my medical advice is so dearly valued." He closed his hands around Richard's knee, not enough pressure to hurt, but enough coverage to feel the current state of the swelling. "That seems to have gone down a bit. Alright, lift at the hip with this one if you're able," Holden said, scooting himself into place to grab hold of Richard's lower leg.

"Ah, hang on," Richard said, suddenly nervous. He started to prop himself up on his elbows, looking around at all of the several pairs of eyes that were watching him. "Shouldn't we maybe do this somewhere else?"

"Want to go back to your little bush?" Holden teased, but shook his head. "I don't want you putting any more weight on it for now. I won't lie to you though, this is going to hurt."

Richard nodded nervously at the doctor's solemn words. He looked around himself for something to bite down on, they way he had seen tough men do in war movies. He eventually found a book mixed in with his minimal belongings. It was a small book, paperback, which had been in his suit pocket when the cryptos first attacked. The cover read The Valley of Fear, ironically enough. Richard stuck the spine between his teeth and did his best to hike his leg as instructed.

"What's going on here?" Mrs. Beecher asked, a look of concern on her face as she stared down at the detective.

"He's got a leg that wants popping," Holden answered, sparing Richard the need to remove his book. "I was just about to reduce it."

"Oh the poor dear," was the older woman's response. Without invitation, she walked over to the side of Richard's head and sat down. "Come here, lad," she ordered and made Richard reposition to let her cradle his head in her lap.

Richard screwed up his face in a mixture of confusion and alarm at this new arrangement, but Holden looked pleased. "Thank you, nurse," the doctor said, and Mrs. Beecher let out one of her hearty laughs.

Richard really wished she wouldn't be laughing now. He really didn't like the feeling of laughter right now.

"Ready?" Holden asked, putting his hands in position.

Not exactly, was the thought that went through Richard's mind, but Holden went on anyway. The doctor yanked the bottom half of Richard's leg forward, causing the joint to shift with a dull snap. Richard clenched down onto the spine of the book with his teeth and his head arched back into Mrs. Beecher's lap. He cried out from around the book as Mrs. Beecher spoke soothing words to him and stroked her hand over his forehead. Eventually, he came down from the pain and could make out what the woman was saying.

"Such a strong boy. You did so well. Now shhh, just relax."

He felt someone take the book from his mouth, and then he heard another, much smaller voice say. "Is Mr. Poole going to be okay?"

"Yes, Charlotte dear," Holden replied to the little girl. "Mr. Poole just had a bit of a sore leg. But it's better now."

Richard cracked one eye open and looked over at the little girl. "I'm fine, darling," he said, trying to stretch out his leg to test it. He felt Holden's hand come to the bottom of his ankle to help support him.

"Good?" the doctor asked, helping his patient test the limits of his joint and gingerly move it into different positions.

Richard nodded. "Yeah, good."

"Sir?"

Richard and Holden both turned towards the voice at the same time, not really knowing who was being called. Juliette Best, who was serving as the lookout, called over to the both of them. "It's Ronnie's group. I see them coming back."

Richard moved to sit up but the doctor held up a finger at him haltingly and said, "Uh-uh." Then looking at Mrs. Beecher, he ordered, "Hold him."

The old woman held Richard down by the shoulders, even as he protested this kind of unlawful arrest.

"I'll deal with it, Richard. Lie down and rest that leg," Dr. Holden said before heading over to the mouth of the cave and then disappearing frustratingly from view. Several others all left the cave at the same time to help, and Richard was left waiting, straining his ears for any sign of what was going on outside.

"No shouting, no guns," Mrs. Beecher commentated, running her fingers through Richard's hair absentmindedly. "No sound of any kind actually. Well, that's got to be a good sign, hasn't it?"

Just then, someone ran back into the cave, directly over to Dr. Holden's little medical station and retrieved two fistfuls of bandages before running back outside.

Richard sat up after that, heaving himself out of the old woman's grasp easily enough.

"Inspector, no!" Mrs. Beecher said, but Richard just kept moving.

"Booker Holden is not my nanny!" he bellowed over his shoulder, hobbling towards the mouth of the cave.

Seeing that Richard was obviously determined to see what was going on, Juliette left her post as lookout to come to his aid. She draped the inspector's arm over her shoulder and helped him to the front of the cave.

Richard stepped into daylight and peered down at the scene below him. It was a confusing sight at first, members of Ronnie's team were handing off items to the rest of the members of the camp to carry back up to the cave, but Ronnie and Fidel both stood by Dwayne, who had his shirt off and was gritting his teeth as Dr. Holden treated something on his back.

As soon as Richard saw that Dwayne was the only injured party, he started to set off down the hill, but Juliette held onto him and wouldn't let him move. "I don't think so, Inspector. We try to take that slope, and we'll be like Jack and Jill tumbling down these rocks."

Richard had to admit that she was probably right, so he stayed put and just watched from a distance. Luckily, no one seemed in that much of a panic, so he was hoping that the wound was only a minor one. And as he visually scanned over each member of Ronnie's team, he confirmed that they had all come home safely and seemed to be in good health. Finally, Richard allowed himself to release the sigh he had anxiously been holding in for the past 24 hours. After a short while, everyone started lugging the resources from Honoré up the slope and into the cave. Just a little longer after that, Dwayne and his caretakers also walked up the hill to rejoin the others.

"Everything alright?" Richard asked once they were in ear shot.

Dwayne nodded, "Just scratched my back up, chief, climbing under a table with a sharp latch. Nothing too serious."

Richard cast a questioning glance back at Dr. Holden, who nodded to confirm the story. "Well, glad you're alright," Richard said, shaking the man's hand. "I take it then, you didn't encounter the cryptos?"

"Oh we encountered one alright," Ronnie said, depositing his rifle and Dwayne's handgun on the ledge by the opening of the cave alongside the others. Automatically, he started a safety check of each weapon, unloading them and engaging the safety locks. "But it was only one and we were able to just stay hidden, avoided the confrontation."

"Smart," Richard commended.

"We should have fired on the bugger," Dwayne replied, a bit bitterly.

"But Ronnie said you didn't know how many else were around. Avoiding an attack seems like the smartest thing to do," Fidel added, coming to stand next to his wife, who was still helping to support some of Richard's weight.

Dwayne shrugged, his gaze dark. "I just hated the sight of them, all crawlin' around our city, like they owned the place."

Everyone solemnly nodded at that. Dwayne was right; they all mourned the loss of their beautiful home. Even Richard, who made no attempts to hide his complaints about the eternal heat and his general disdain for life in the tropics, wished he could return to the way things had been.

"But the important thing is," Ronnie began, "No one got hurt…badly." He added this last part with a nod in Dwayne's direction.

"And? Were you successful?" Richard asked, shifting his weight a little to try not to lean on Juliette too heavily.

"I think so. We got into the primary school and they had lots of banners and signs decorating the gym and classrooms. I think we can use a lot of it. And we found some more ammunition as well in the security office. We could have found more too if we had ventured a little farther into the city, but we were running low on daylight. We brought back what we could."

"What about the medicine? Was there a nurse's station at the school?" Holden asked hopefully.

"Ah," Ronnie said, thankful to have been reminded. He lifted a satchel from his shoulder and handed it to the doctor. Holden peered inside and took quick stock of his new equipment. He looked up at the other man with a look of gratitude on his face. Without another word he just squeezed Ronnie once on the arm and then walked off to add these items to his medical station.

The others in the group took that as a sign that the conversation had officially ended and all split off in different directions. "Tell you what," Richard began, removing his arm from around Juliette's shoulders and gingerly lowering himself down onto the little ledge where she had previously sat. "I'll take a shift as lookout, Juliette. You go be with your husband."

"You sure?" she asked politely, though she already moved in said direction.

Richard just closed his eyes and nodded as an answer. As Juliette went with Fidel to help with the sorting of the new resources, it left only Richard and Ronnie remaining by the cave entrance. Ronnie released the empty chamber of the last handgun and it slid shut with a satisfying schinkt. When he was finished he turned to Richard, who was staring at him like there was something he wanted to talk about.

"You could have gotten more?" Richard asked, except it wasn't a question.

Ronnie dropped his hands to his hips and sighed. "Yeah…a lot more," he answered with a slow nod of his head. "It was a big school. With just five men, we used most of our time just searching through it. And even what we found, we couldn't carry everything. There was a whole pantry still stocked with food and we had to just leave most of it because our bags were full."

Richard sighed too and looked down at the ground. He nodded begrudgingly, understanding what Ronnie was implying. "You want to go back."

"Damn right I do. And I want to take more men. We couldn't even carry to our max because we had to leave our hands free for our weapons. Weapons that we never even fired."

"Which was wholly ideal and not at all a guarantee," Richard added emphatically.

"But my point is," Ronnie continued in a hushed voice, crouching beside Richard to get on his eye-level. "If we take twice as many people…" Richard immediately started to object, but Ronnie spoke over him. "Twice as many next time, and we take all five of our guns, half of the group can provide protection while the other half load as much as they can carry. Then we would still have the bags and satchels that can be carried by the gunmen. Richard, we could come back with enough food and supplies to last us for weeks."

Richard held an intensity in his face but a levelness in his voice as he looked at Ronnie from the corner of his eye and said slowly, "You are talking about a third of our ranks, Ronnie. Ten people! Put in jeopardy. And what happens when just one of those weapons jams? Or the creatures fall in too quickly and people can't get their shots off in time? Or what if one of the unarmed members of the team encounters a crypto and no one with a gun is around to protect them?"

The other man sighed and looked away in frustration.

"Ronnie, I understand that you've just seen a land flowing with milk and honey, but we can't let that make us reckless."

"Calculated risk-" Ronnie began, but Richard cut him off.

"What part of five people without a means of protecting themselves seems calculated to you?"

"Then we minimize the risk. Entrust the guns only to those who have the training and experience to handle a firefight. People who won't hesitate to get their shots off in time. Unlike what I had today."

Richard tipped his head to the side, not quite seeing the point his compatriot was trying to make.

Ronnie elaborated. "I thought it a little strange that, in a group with three trained police officers, I only had one come with me on a dangerous mission. Or don't you think I noticed you go and convince Fidel not to join my team."

Richard blinked at the accusation, a little stunned by it, yet also having the good graces to look properly guilty.

"So the next time we send people into a hostile environment, maybe don't send two of our trained professionals up to pick coffee berries!"

"There a problem over here, gents?" Dr. Holden asked pointedly, approaching the heated exchange with his hands up in a way that said 'quiet down, you idiots.' Richard looked past the doctor and noticed how no one in the cave behind him was looking their direction. In fact, everyone was very obviously looking in any other direction. Though heated, Richard and Ronnie had kept their argument in whispered tones, but he was still certain it must not have looked good. He and Ronnie exchanged a regretful look and then turned to face the twilit outdoors.

"Just a disagreement," Ronnie said, much more calmly this time.

"Uh, yeah, gathered that much," Holden replied, taking a seat on the ground next to the two of them.

"Ronnie thinks his team wasn't as successful as it could have been today. He proposes taking another team, a larger team, out to make another go of it," Richard said, in an equally calm tone.

"And you're not in favor of this because you think we dodged a bullet today, and that next time, we won't be so lucky." The doctor had pretty much hit the nail on the head with that assessment.

A silence stretched out between the three men while they all contemplated what their next step should be. It was Holden who finally spoke, "I say, we forget about it for tonight. They're almost through with the sorting. Tomorrow we will be able to check our full inventory and see if we have enough to make Ronnie's flag. If we start to piece the thing together and realize that we don't have enough materials, then we can revisit the idea of going out again. And Richard, you're going to have to face the fact that we won't be able to sustain life for this many people on this mountain forever. Eventually, we will have to send more groups down to the city. And the more we go, the better we'll get at it. But for now, today was a victory. Let's not lose sight of that."

Ronnie and Richard both felt like properly reprimanded teenagers as they turned to look at each other apologetically. They reached out and shared a handshake. "I'm sorry Ronnie. Holden is right, we should be treating this as a success."

"And I'm sorry for implying that what you did wasn't important. I appreciate the work you and your team did up at the plantation."

"I should say," Holden added, his tone instantly brightening the conversation. "After all, the inspector is the only one who came back with a real battle wound."

Here, Ronnie turned his attention to his friend's leg. "Yeah, I'd been noticing that. What'd you do?"

"He fell through a floor."

Ronnie pinched his lips together tightly, trying to keep from smiling. "Bit ironic, no?"

"O-kay!" Richard said, annoyed, shaking his head while the other two men just laughed, Ronnie slapping him on the back in good nature.

"Oh! And I forgot to tell you the best part," Holden said, standing up and helping Ronnie to rise as well. "While you lads were off on your heroics, Owen and I went out and checked on the traps. And we caught a bird!"

"We what?" Richard asked, baffled.

"Yeah!" Holden gave an almost cartoonish shrug of his shoulders. "Don't ask me how! But it's poultry on the menu tonight, gents!"


Author's Note: "The Valley of Fear" is a Sherlock Holmes novel by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. It seemed like the kind of pocket book Richard might have had on him.

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! I cannot overstate how much I love hearing from you guys! The next chapter will be up soon, so stay tuned!