No one could have predicted what happened that afternoon. They were in the flatlands of the coastal plain and the signs of civilization were becoming more evident. They had carefully skirted some farms and Sam had already decided he was going to steal a vehicle at the first opportunity and run the risk of getting caught; it was necessary. Callen was dragging so badly that Sam had been stopping every few miles to let the man rest. Their forward progress was being greatly decreased and if they didn't find a way to get to the rendezvous point quicker, Sam didn't know if Callen would make it.
Sam had left a weak, yet protesting Callen, in the woods as he went to investigate the latest farm. As luck would have it, this area was so poor all the farming was done the old fashion way, with only animals. While he and Callen could both ride and in the past had done so on both horses and camels, his partner was currently in no shape to attempt it. Sam ruled out stealing a cart; that would be too slow and they would surely be caught. So he left to check out the latest farm but when he found no mechanized vehicle, Sam crept back to where he'd left Callen, roused him and they started walking again.
The next farm they came too was a mirror of the first with no useful means of transportation. Callen dragged himself off the ground when Sam returned empty-handed again and they headed out.
The third farm showed promise. From where Sam insisted Callen wait while he did recon, Callen was able to see an old car and he prayed it was operational. His prayer suddenly changed when he heard an explosion and he shifted his gaze in time to see Sam fly through the air. 'Let him be alive', Callen prayed as he pushed off the ground and sprinted as fast as he could to where his downed partner lay on the grass.
In a war ravaged country like this, it was not uncommon for unexploded ordinances to be left behind for decades. Usually it was some poor unsuspecting animal that triggered it or worse, an innocent child or peaceful farmer; this time it had been Sam. Had it been newer, Sam would have been dead; older shells tended to be a bit less lethal if you were lucky.
Callen stopped when he reached Sam's location and let his eyes roam over his partner's body to ascertain the damage. It looked like Sam's left leg took the brunt of the damage. His jeans were torn and bloody and Callen could see small pieces of shrapnel poking out of Sam's flesh.
To be safe, Callen took off his belt, astounded that he still had one on and used it as a tourniquet on Sam's leg. Sam, who was conscious, quietly watched Callen's administrations.
"Just to be safe," Callen told Sam as he tightened the belt. "Until we can get a better idea of the damage." Sam nodded in concurrence. "Can you walk? Because I think it would be a good idea for us to relocate before someone comes to see what the big boom was about."
"I can't get far," Sam said as he made his first attempt to rise.
Callen scanned the area seeing a herd of peacefully grazing sheep. "You don't have too. Just back into the woods."
Sam groaned as he sat up and worked on standing. Callen moved to his side and offered support with his one good arm. "How is going 500 hundred feet away going to help?" Sam grunted as he leaned heavily on Callen as they limped across the grass.
"Trust me," Callen replied thru gritted teeth as he fought to keep Sam upright in his own weakened state.
When they were safely in the woods, hopefully out of sight of prying eyes, Callen propped Sam up against a tree. "Wait here a second." The smaller man disappeared into the woods and retuned a few moments later, awkwardly carrying the backpack in front of him; he couldn't sling it over either shoulder because of the whip slashes on his back. He dropped it on the ground, dug out the thermal blanket and spread it out. Moving back over to Sam, he helped the man lower himself onto it. By the time they were finished, Callen was drenched in sweat and fighting to hold back the black dots circling in his eyes. He slowly made his way over to the pack and took out the knife. "I'll be right back," he told Sam.
"What are you going to do?" Sam asked eyeing the knife in his partner's hand.
"Hopefully buy us a get out of jail card free," Callen replied before disappearing.
As Callen left the wooded area, he scanned the meadow and saw it was still deserted except for the grazing sheep. Steeling his nerves for what he knew was a necessity; he made his way slowly over to where scruffy bundles of fur stood munching grass. They were tame and didn't seem to mind as he wandered through them. He had just about made his selection, an older sheep he thought though he was no expert on livestock, when his eyes spotted another sheep that appeared to be lying down. After giving the sheep he'd been about to slay a pat on the back, he moved closer to the unmoving animal and it became painfully obvious the ewe was deceased.
He dragged the carcass over to where the shell had exploded and placed her in what he hoped was a strategic position. This would have to do as he didn't have the heart or the strength to hack the dead animal up to make it seem more convincing that she had been the one that triggered the bomb. By the time he was finished, he noticed a new red stain growing on his own shirt; all the recent activities had caused his cauterized bullet wound to break open again.
When life gives you lemons you make lemonade and that was the philosophy Callen embraced as he wiped his own blood on the dead sheep. He stood up and decided it added perhaps just enough realism to squeak by; he was hoping these were simple farmers and not forensic experts.
Drained, he slowly returned to where he'd left Sam. When Sam saw him return with the knife in blood-stained hands he gasped. "What did you do?"
Callen attempted to slowly squat by Sam then gave up and plopped on the ground. "Don't worry. No animals were harmed in the filming of this adventure. Let me take a look at that leg."
With none to study hands, Callen used the knife to slice open Sam's pants and reveal the leg. It had 2nd degree burns and pieces of metal buried long its entire length. Fortunately, none of the wounds seemed that deep as to have punctured any major arteries. Still, Callen knew it must hurt like hell and the chance of infection, given the situation they were in was 100%. Callen took off his tourniquet belt and dropped it beside Sam. The bleeding didn't increase which was relief; the femoral artery had not been damaged.
"What's left in that medical kit?" Callen asked as he struggled to his feet and attempted to walk back to where he had left the backpack on the grass. He only took two steps before he pitched forward, crumbling to the ground.
"G!" Sam howled as he saw his partner go down. He squirmed, attempting to get in a position where he could crawl over there if he had to, when he saw Callen start to stir.
"I'm good," Callen mumbled as he forced his body onto his hands and knees. "Tripped," he said as he crawled on all fours over to the pack.
Flipping on his butt, Callen pulled the pack close and started rooting in it. Taking inventory he found and pulled out a handful of what he considered useful items to help Sam: alcohol pads, one syringe each of morphine, Maxolon and surprisingly antibiotics, a one-handed tourniquet, scissors, bandages, dressings, adhesive tape and clotting agents. The last item surprised Callen. At first he couldn't figure out why Sam didn't use it back in the cave until he flipped the package over; it had been damaged and was useless. Gathering up the supplies in his arms along with a canteen of water, he waddled on his knees back over to Sam; he didn't trust himself to stand.
Dropping the supplies on the edge of the mat, he looked down at his partner's calm, trusting, brown eyes. "You ready for this?"
"I'm more concerned if you are. The thought of you passing out halfway thru this and flopping on my leg is not appealing," Sam said half-joking and half-serious.
Callen wasn't too confident of his own abilities but he wouldn't let that reflect on his face. A lot of what he needed to do involved two hands, so Callen was forced to keep moving his left arm which aggravated the newly opened bullet wound. He could feel the blood dripping down his chest and he hoped it wasn't too obvious since his shirt was already stained.
Reaching his good hand behind his back, he pulled a thick stick out of his pocket and offered it to Sam. "You might want this."
"Why? You planning to cauterize something? Because from where I lie, everything looks like it has already stopped bleeding. Except, that is, for your shoulder which you have obviously torn open again."
Callen winced but didn't confirm Sam's suspicion. "When I pour this bottle of disinfectant on those wounds, it is gonna hurt like hell. You might want that stick so you don't let out an unmanly scream."
"Maybe you could daintily dab at them with the sterile alcohol pads instead," Sam suggested helpfully.
"Would take too much time. Besides I need to save them to swab your ass before I injected as many needles as possible there," Callen retorted before turning serious; the time for joking was over. "You ready?" he asked holding up the bottle.
"Go for it," Sam told him as he adverted his eyes to stare up at the sky.
Callen nervously swiped his tongue over his top lip, before biting down on his lower one and starting to pour. He doused each wound thoroughly before moving on to the next. When he was done, he awkwardly wrapped the entire leg in gauze, afraid he was going to run out of bandages before the job was complete; Sam had long, muscular legs.
The big guy sat up and tried to aid as much as possible to save Callen's injured shoulder but he was more a hindrance than a help. Callen pointedly put his hand on Sam's chest and gently, but insistently pushed him flat on the blanket. Closing his eyes, Sam laid still and let Callen finish his wrapping.
It slipped Callen's mind that he was supposed to give Sam the shots, so when he was done wrapping, he crawled a few feet away and passed out on the ground. Sam saw him go down and tried to crawl over but his exertions drove him into the same state as his partner. There, in the gathering darkness, on the floor of the forest, the two men lay unconscious in a strangers in a strange land.