Chapter 47
Forty-Seven
Tobias
T he going was slow on the way back to the compound. All of us had taken wounds, and since there were only seven of us, that made pulling the carts hard. The one Dragon body? It wasn't enough. I knew it wouldn't be.
But when we finally reached the main door, Gideon shoved forward to lurk over the keypad. The thing beeped four times as he entered the code.
"Who all knows how to get in?" I asked.
"Not you," Gideon snapped at me.
I grunted. "And if you'd been killed back there too? Then what are we supposed to do?"
"Bang loudly," he told me just as the heavy electric bolt released.
Slowly, the door swung inward. Along the ceiling, lights began to flick on. They were faint at first, but grew a bit stronger the longer they were on. Even better, the long, narrow hall sloped downwards, making the carts roll easily.
We didn't make it five feet before men began hurrying toward us. "We got the carts," someone said.
"This is it?" another asked.
"Where's the rest of the team?" someone demanded.
But the seven of us were all being propelled forward. The most wounded were given shoulders to lean on. The guy with a limp was carried by two others. As a gatherer, I hadn't been greeted this way on my own. Instead, I'd been expected to guide the hunters to the infirmary - and this time it was my turn.
"Over here! Over here!" someone yelled
"You're one of the least injured," my escort said as we entered the infirmary. "Take a seat over in the back."
"Yeah, I'm good," I assured him.
And I was. My right arm hurt like Hell was burning inside it, but compared to all the rest, I wasn't about to complain. Staying out of everyone else's way, I found a bed in the corner, then sat down. For two days, we'd walked as much as we could, pushing well into the daylight and starting again before it was truly dark.
Thankfully, the Dragons hadn't chased us.
But we hadn't stopped to make camps. We'd merely slept where we'd paused, then started again. Now, my feet were killing me. My entire body hurt from pulling the cart. Worse, this bite on my arm had turned a very concerning shade of red.
And then we waited. After that, we waited some more. Eventually, the first of the women came in: the wives. Mrs. Worthington headed for the man whose leg had been sliced open from the knee down. Another woman was checking Gideon.
I decided to lean back and close my eyes for a moment. This was a bed, after all. And finally, after days of being on the surface, the air was cool again. Clasping my elbow with the opposite hand, I settled in for a very long wait - and maybe even a nap.
The sound of my name startled me awake. "Tobias?" Cool fingers clutched at my hand, making me jerk my eyes open to see Callah looking at me with fear in her eyes.
"Hey," I breathed, trying to sit back up.
She pressed a hand against my chest. "You're hurt."
I nodded. "Just the arm. It's not too bad."
She began working my shirt sleeve higher, so again I tried to sit up, and this time I made it before she stopped me.
"You need to let me treat that!" she snapped.
"I am not stopping you," I assured her, catching her wrist to make her actually stop and look at me. "But you should use the alcohol on it. Clean the punctures well, rinse with ethanol a few times, and then wrap it with gauze to absorb the drainage."
"What?" she whispered.
"If it seeps puss, you will need to rinse daily with the alcohol. I should wash with soap daily, and change the bandage each time."
Her eyes narrowed. "Someone told you how to treat it."
And my lips curled into a smile. "Yeah."
Those pretty green eyes of hers jumped between each of mine, but she didn't dare say the name we were both thinking. Luckily, the people around us were worried about the truly injured, so no one was listening.
"We need to talk," I said softly.
She nodded. "I need to heal you. Then I'll help with the others. That will likely take all night."
"I'd like to walk with you again," I told her.
This time, she was the one smiling. "Mr. Warren, I do have responsibilities." But she caught my eye and nodded.
"I tried to get you something," I grumbled. "I'd planned to find a flower, but we were overrun. Everyone else is dead. The Dragons..."
She glanced around the room. "Everyone else? "
"Yeah. My own partner was killed by the Wyvern."
And those eyes jumped back, but this time her skin paled. "How did you survive?"
"A beast grabbed me and dragged me away. He went for someone else. I had to fight the animal off, but I managed."
"That's what did this?" she asked. "This will hurt."
She poured a clear, cold fluid across my forearm before I had the chance to respond. A split-second after it hit, I forgot about everything but the burning eating through my flesh. A roar came from my mouth, and I tried to jerk away, but Callah pulled my arm back, glaring at me like I was an idiot.
"Stay. Still!" she demanded.
"You didn't say it'd hurt!" I huffed.
She lifted a brow. "I did."
"When you did it!"
"Stop acting like a boy in sermon," she chided.
But someone else laughed at that. "Not so much fun when you're the one being healed, huh, Tobias?"
I twisted to see Gideon on the bed behind me. His shirt was off and an older woman was cleaning the blood from a gash along his ribs. I simply grunted in reply and turned back to Callah, aware I'd have to be careful what I said.
"This could be infected," Callah warned.
I nodded. "So I'll wash it."
"Tomorrow, I will change the bandage and clean it again," she assured me. "If you tell Mr. Cassidy, I can attend you instead of my afternoon sermon."
"I..."
"I'll handle it," Gideon said, clearly listening in. "At least one of those women knows her place."
"To serve and nurture," Callah said as if she was agreeing. "We cannot risk losing any more of our brave hunters."
"Careful, Tobias. If I wasn't in mourning, I might take an interest in your girl."
Callah continued to wrap my arm, but she ducked her head. I was pretty sure her cheeks were even turning pink - or maybe red with anger.
"Our fathers were cousins, Mr. Kobrick. You're not on my list."
"Ah, right," Gideon said, but he sounded like he already knew that. "Shame. You are a beautiful woman, Callah."
"I wouldn't know such things, sir," she mumbled.
"Lay off," I snapped.
Which made Gideon chuckle. "Just make sure you keep this one in line, Tobias. She's likely to go bad like the other two."
"Like your wife ?" I asked. "Or could that have been the fault of the husband?"
"You stupid - "
"Enough!" Mrs. Worthington bellowed from the far side of the room. "Deal with your pain like the men you should be. If you damage each other, I will report it to my husband! "
"Sorry," I mumbled.
Gideon just grumbled like he had a lot more he wanted to say. Callah? She had a little quirk to the corner of her mouth. When she glanced up, those pretty eyes of hers were sparkling.
"You can enjoy lunch with me, Mr. Warren, and then I will change your bandage after. I wouldn't want to destroy your appetite after such a long trip."
"Hey, I'll get you something pretty next time," I promised.
"Maybe something pink?" she asked.
"I dunno..." I said, ducking my head a little more to make this discussion sound private. "All I saw this time were little yellow ones."
Her fingers slowed, then stopped. Carefully, she pressed against my hand, then began wrapping again. What she didn't do was look up. Not at the mention of that color.
"I prefer pink," she told me. "Soon, I will be thinking about white."
I chuckled. "White is a good choice too."
Then she tucked the end of the bandage under the wrap and eased my arm down. "Try that? Do you have movement in all your fingers?"
Obediently, I wiggled my hand. "That's good, but is it too loose?"
"Oh, it's going to swell," she warned. "Leave it alone tonight. When you wake, wash with a good lather of soap. It will hurt, but you want to lather it for five minutes, then rinse for three. Find me in the dining hall at lunch, and I will clean and rewrap it for you afterwards."
"You're a very gentle healer, Callah."
She glanced up at me again. "You're done, Mr. Warren." Then she gestured towards the door. "I'm not sure what duties are expected of you, but I am glad to see you returned."
"Tomorrow," I promised her as I slid off the bed and made my way around the chaos in here.
For the first time in my memory, there were no arrows to be removed. I saw injured arms, legs, and a man having his head bandaged. Most of us were having gashes sewn up. Apparently the Dragons had been carrying blades this time. The bigger problem was the number of empty beds.
Fifty of us had gone out. Seven had returned. That was worse than the last excursion by the hunters. Fourteen had come back that time. All combined, we'd lost nearly eighty men in under a month - from just the last two hunts! Those were not the kind of losses the Righteous could continue to take.
But as one of the least wounded, I turned my feet for the cold storage area. The carts would need to be put away. The meat would need to be laid out for butchering - but I huffed at that though. Meat. We'd managed to get one single carcass. One scaled man. It wouldn't even feed the compound for a day.
Yet what I really wanted to do was pull Callah away and tell her everything I now knew. The Wyvern could speak! Ayla really had tamed him, as well as the beasts of the world! My mother had been a Dragon - and that was the part my mind didn't want to accept .
My mother had been a Dragon, but she hadn't had a tail. I had a relative up there! But would he hate me or give me a chance? And Callah's mother was the same way. What was her name? Could I learn more about her? Would we even have time?
Blowing out a breath to steady my thoughts, I opened the door and stepped into the cold storage room to find a group of men standing over the single carcass. Three of them turned at the sound of the door, their eyes landing on me.
"Is this the entire hunt, Tobias?" asked Mr. Peterson, the head of the hunters.
I nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."
"Why didn't they get any more?" Mr. Worthington snapped. "I made sure they had plenty of ammo."
"I wasn't there when they left," I explained, lifting my arm. "They had beasts. They came into the forest. We were attacked from all sides, and Sylis said they'd been told to get the carts and go."
"By who?" Mr. Peterson demanded.
"By Gideon," I said. "They..." I paused, doing my best to make sure I sounded slow-witted and dull. "The Dragons killed us all. The Wyvern killed my partner. I saw him, but the beast grabbed me and pulled me away. It was huge, and I dropped my gun when it hit me, so I had to fight it off with my hands, and it didn't want to let go."
"This isn't good," Mr. Worthington told Mr. Peterson.
Mr. White, one of the elders, was shaking his head. "We sent out fifty men."
"Seven of us made it back," I mumbled.
"Seven!" Mr. White snapped. "That's most of our veteran hunters!"
"Then maybe they were not as capable as we thought," Mr. Peterson said. "We need to call the meeting."
"First thing in the morning?" Mr. Worthington asked.
"Now!" Mr. White demanded. "We must address this now, before the rumors start. Gentlemen, send the runners to every man in the compound."
"What about the hunters in the infirmary?" I asked. "They're still being sewed up."
"Them too," Mr. White grumbled. "All of them, and tell those women to stop dawdling and sew our boys up. We need an emergency meeting!"