Charlie's instincts had been screaming at him to keep moving, and he had been obeying them without question for the past twenty minutes. But now, as Don began stumbling beside him, he slowed his pace and studied his brother. His eyes widened as he saw how much worse Don's appearance had become. His brother's complexion had grown considerably paler, and there was a narrow, steady stream of blood trickling down the front of his shirt. Deciding that they had to take a rest or Don wouldn't make it any farther, Charlie brought them to a halt.
"What?" Don asked wearily. "Why're we stopping?"
"Because you need to rest," Charlie quietly told him.
"Thought your gut-"
"Is telling me something's wrong?" Charlie finished for him. "Yeah, it is. But if we don't stop..." I'm afraid you won't make it out of here, he finished silently. He tore his gaze from his brother and scanned the forest around them, looking for any kind of natural shelter, preferably in an inconspicuous spot. His frustration mounted as he came up empty. "Damn," he muttered to himself. He debated setting Don down so he could wander a little farther ahead, but instantly threw out that idea as images of some psychotic hunter stumbling across his brother played in his mind. No, Don would be staying glued to his side until they found their way out of the situation.
"Over there," Don spoke.
Charlie turned to look at his brother and followed his gaze to a spot about fifty yards up the hillside. There was a stand of trees and, if Charlie looked closely enough, he could just make out a large shady area behind them. "Is that a cave?" he wondered aloud.
"That or an overhang that's shading the area," Don replied. "Either one will work for us right now."
Charlie nodded, tightened his grip on Don's arm and used every last bit of strength he had to lug his brother uphill. A few minutes later Charlie was relieved to find that it was indeed a small, natural alcove made from a large overhang and two stands of trees. He wearily set Don down in the deepest part of the recessed area, making sure to lean his good shoulder against the wall. "Stay here for me. I'll be right back." At his brother's nod, Charlie studied the opening of the cramped alcove, making sure that it wasn't too visible from the main trail they'd been on. Satisfied that it wasn't, he joined Don, slipped out of the heavy pack and sat by his side.
"We're hidden?" Don asked as he blinked sleepily.
"As well as we can be," Charlie informed him. "I have your gun on me, just in case."
"You remember how to shoot?" the older man asked in surprise.
"Empty lung technique."
"That's more for rifles," Don mused. "But I guess it can work for a handgun, too."
"We'd better hope so." Charlie grew quiet as he unzipped Don's pack and dug out a canteen. He glanced at Don's left hand and saw that it seemed to be a little steadier than earlier. He pressed the container into the injured man's hand. "Drink up while you can."
Don nodded and began slowly sipping the water. Satisfied that his brother was okay with that small task, Charlie opened up the first aid kit and began sorting through the contents. He soon had isolated a pile of supplies containing an ACE bandage, gauze pads and wrap, and some white tape. Charlie looked up and saw the troubled expression in his brother's eyes. "I have to," he whispered softly.
"I know," Don sighed.
"I don't want-"
"I know," Don assured him with a faint smile. "And I know you'll be as gentle as you can."
"Let me know when you're ready."
"How's next week?" Don joked. "I think I've got some free time on Tuesday."
Charlie humored his brother with a grin. "I'm all booked up next week. It's now or never."
"I'd like to opt for the 'never'," Don grumbled, closing his eyes in anticipation of the hell he was about to endure. "But go ahead."
"I need you to hold the arrow still while I pack the gauze around it."
Don nodded and, without opening his eyes, raised his left hand up and held the arrow steady. "Do I get a lollipop if I'm good?"
"How about a granola bar?"
"Not the same," Don playfully pouted. All signs of humor vanished from his face as he felt Charlie lay a hand on his shoulder. "Go ahead," he whispered to the younger man.
Even though Don couldn't see him, Charlie nodded and began packing the edges of the gauze pads into the area between the torn flesh and the projectile. His brother gave a low groan and Charlie quickly pressed a shaky finger against Don's lips. "Shh," he whispered. "I know it hurts, but in case I'm right and someone is looking for us, I need you to be as quiet as possible."
"Don't want much, do you?" Don muttered before biting his lip and nodding for Charlie to continue. The agent made himself think of other things – much more pleasant things – to distract himself as his little brother continued bandaging his shoulder. Every time Don managed to mentally make it to some other place, a wave of agony would bring him crashing back to reality. Eventually his vision started to gray around the edges, and he let himself drift away from the pain. A lifetime later Don became aware of a very soft, soothing touch on his chin. His eyes fluttered open and he saw Charlie dabbing at face with a piece of gauze.
"You bit through your lip," the younger man told him as he continued wiping the blood away.
"You're done?" Don asked in confusion.
"See for yourself," Charlie nodded toward his shoulder.
Don looked and saw that the arrow was still in place, but it was now held by several layers of bandages. "Looks like it was wrapped up by a pro," Don smiled. "Good job, Buddy."
"I'm debating if I should immobilize your whole arm, too, or just leave it like it is."
"Leave it like this," Don suggested. "If someone is after us, then I'll need to be able to use both hands, even if one isn't up to par."
The younger man looked doubtful, but didn't force the issue. "How's the pain? I've got more Tylenol if you need it."
"It hurts, but nothing you find in that first aid kit is going to put a dent in it."
"Let me know if you change your mind," Charlie said. He hated feeling useless when it came to something as simple as being able to ease his brother's pain. He sighed and ran a hand through his curls. "Whenever you're ready, we really need to get moving again."
"I'm ready," Don responded as he held out his good arm for Charlie to help him up.
--
Monroe had crossed the river, making sure to mark his path with a series of small red strings tied around branches. They were practically invisible to the untrained eye, but stood out like bright red beacons to Gary and himself.
Monroe stood along the water's edge and studied the footprints that were still visible in the dry dirt. The area had been under a drought, and he knew the signs of flight that his quarry left behind would be noticeable for days. Even though he knew exactly where the two men had entered the woods, Ralph was taking time to study the tracks along the riverbank. His father had taught him at an early age that you could tell a lot about your prey just by studying how it moved and interacted with its environment and peers.
The camouflage-clad man had already deduced that the taller, older, injured man was a potentially dangerous opponent. His tracks were clear and concise – he didn't drag his feet or hesitate when he walked. The weight seemed to be carried on the balls of the feet, even when he moved at a leisurely pace, indicating that he was someone used to strenuous physical activity.
Monroe shook his head as he studied the footprints left by the smaller man. They had softer, blurred outlines, indicating that he paused a lot while walking. The weight was distributed evenly from heel to toe, meaning that he probably wasn't as physically active as his companion. Monroe's most interesting observation was that the smaller prints were almost always on top, which he knew meant that the younger man was usually following in the older one's steps.
The sandy haired man gave a menacing grin. Follow the leader, he thought to himself. Incapacitate the leader and the followers become easy prey. And Ralph was almost certain that this particular leader wouldn't be lucid for much longer, given the amount of blood he saw around the tree and along the edge of the woods.
Monroe loaded a shell into his rifle, chambered a round in his handgun and casually entered the forest.
--
Charlie kept leading his brother through the woods and in the direction of safety. He tried not to think about the fact that their car was a two-day hike from their present location, and that was when they were moving at a healthy pace. He tried not to think about the fact that there was an ever-widening red stain seeping through the bandage on Don's shoulder. He tried not to think about how often his brother was starting to stumble, or how his breathing hitched every time Charlie had to steady him to keep him from falling.
He tried not to think about any of that, but those were the only things he could think of.
Sighing, the young professor looked up at the sky where it peeked through the treetops. He could see the purplish hint of dusk and knew they should look for some sort of shelter soon. Don needed to rest, and Charlie knew they needed to be hidden away from the dangers of the night – whether they be in the form of animal or man.
Don suddenly lurched forward in his grasp and it took every last bit of strength that Charlie had to keep both of them upright. "Careful," he whispered as he leaned against a tree, his brother leaning against him. "Just hang on a few more minutes and I'll find us a place to rest."
"'Kay."
Charlie's eyes widened at the compliant response, knowing that only a very sick or tired Don Eppes would so readily agree to his statement. Judging by the way Don sagged against him, and the way he panted for air, his brother was both sick and tired right now. He soothingly rubbed Don's right side where he gripped his waist as he surveyed their surroundings, coming up empty in the shelter department. He hated to put any added strain on his brother, but Charlie suspected their best hope lay in getting further up the hillside, away from the trail.
"We need to keep hiking uphill," he whispered in his brother's ear. "I know you're tired, but I need you to keep going, okay?"
"Sadist," Don muttered as he lifted his head from his little brother's shoulder and gave him a slight smile to show he was teasing. "I honestly don't know how much further I can go."
"Not much longer tonight – I promise." Charlie met his eyes with a fierce, determined gaze. "But you'll keep going as long as needed tomorrow, you got that?"
"I got it," Don agreed, feeling confident in Charlie's abilities to lead them to safety.
"Good," Charlie said. "I didn't want to have to kick your ass."
"As if," Don mumbled in response as they started the trek away from the path.
--
Monroe finished tying off another red string and looked down at the ground in front of him. He had figured the younger man would stick to the path, considering that was probably the only way he wouldn't get lost, but he was still leaving a nice set of tracks behind. Guess he doesn't know he's being hunted, Monroe thought idly.
Leaning against a tree and studying the dusky light before dark, he consumed a few sticks of jerky and washed them down with half a bottle of water. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, repacked the water, and started following the tracks again. After a few minutes he came to a spot where they left the trail and headed up a hill further into the woods. Monroe drew his handgun, flipped the safety off, and stealthily made his way up the incline.
TBC
