Chapter 25
Hattie
Morning came with a yawn and a stretch. Hattie turned over on the ground and stared up at the high canopy, the events of last night slowly coming back to her.
The place they had chosen to sleep was at the base of one the forest giants, in a little area made by the roots curling around, like the tree was trying to hug them. It provided a sense of safety since, thanks to those tall roots, they couldn’t be seen without a person coming all the way around.
Keith had very chivalrously offered their little tent to Belmira. She was a girl that didn’t know him, so he was doing his full charming act. Belmira accepted the tent, but she curled up inside it with the zipper open so she could escape in a second if need be.
Tuvo had cut a bunch of fern leaves to make a bed for her, himself, and Keith. Keith, naturally, made his bed near Belmira’s tent – going on about keeping a lookout for her. Belmira seemed completely unimpressed.
Tuvo had put his back to the tree, his fern bedding under him, sitting up, so he could look out over the others and make sure nothing approached.
Hattie had laid her fern bed beside him, not directly in front so she wouldn’t be in the way if he had to jump up, but her head was near the thigh of his crossed legs – close enough to touch if she wanted.
He had still been awake when she fell asleep. Keeping watch. She told him to wake her in a few hours when he wanted to sleep so she could take a turn, but it was morning now and he definitely hadn’t done that.
She lifted her eyes and grinned to see Tuvo sleeping.
He hadn’t even laid down. His chin was resting on his chest. His body so well concealed, if she didn’t know he was there, she might think he was just an unusually shaped bump on the tree.
The scarring over his body, though it disrupted the smoothness of his camouflage, blended him in.
Which, she supposed, once must have been helpful when the domini really had been living wild and free in the trees.
Tuvo was just keeping up an ancient tradition that the others had abandoned.
Sitting up, yawning again, she checked on the others.
Belmira was still curled up, her hand clenched tight around that blood encrusted knife like a child would their teddy bear.
Keith was splayed out in front of her, mouth open, drool trickling out.
Deeply asleep, completely unconcerned about any potential dangers around them.
Hattie wasn’t used to being the first person to wake up. Usually, she slept later than everyone. But the hard ground wasn’t exactly comfortable, and she had fallen asleep with her head on her arm and now her shoulder was sore.
She rotated it as she looked back at Tuvo. She grimaced, imagining the crick he would have in his neck from sleeping that way.
Grinning, she crawled towards him. Going for stealthy. Not exactly succeeding – her fern leaves shuffled noisily under her – but he didn’t wake up. Poor guy must be tired. He always woke before her, easy and fast.
Sitting up on her knees, she leaned over her his thigh and kissed his cheek.
She pulled back quickly, grinning. Ready for his head to jerk up and look around, ready for a threat, only to see her and for his face to soften. She was looking forward to it.
But it didn’t happen.
Cocking her head, she tried again. Lingering this time. Making an exaggerated kissing sound as she pressed her puckered lips to his heated cheek.
Fear shot through her as she sat back. Her hand grabbed his face this time. With her palm, then the back of her hand. He was burning up.
“Tuvo?” She lifted his head, heart pounding.
He groaned, face pinched in pain. Not asleep. Unconscious.
“Tuvo!” She patted his cheek. Trying to bring him around. His eyes were moving around under his lids, but he wasn’t responding to her.
Her call had woken Belmira who was immediately up and out of the tent, ready to stab anyone with a wild look in her eyes.
Hattie barely even spared her a glance as she pulled at Tuvo, trying to lay him down. She knew he had been shot in the back. She had to check his wounds. Terrified they were infected. They didn’t have medicine. Would human medicine even work on him?
But he was heavy. His muscular body outweighed her by at least two times and, even straining, she couldn’t dislodge him from his place.
Then, Belmira was there, on his other side, helping to push him over. The two of them together were just strong enough to lay him out on his stomach. They tried to protect his head but couldn’t stop his body from hitting hard. He grunted, teeth gritted.
His back was dark. He wasn’t at all camouflaged there. He was bruised. The multitude of bullet holes were scabbed shut, but dried blood surrounded the closed wounds.
Hattie hadn’t seen the extent of the damage before she had been dragged away from him. And he hadn’t acted like he was hurt at all when he came to get them. Now he was burning up, no doubt suffering from blood loss, and his entire backside was covered in holes.
Belmira mumbled some phrase of amazement in Portuguese before looking at Hattie. “How did he survive this?”
Hattie gave her a shaky smile. “He’s strong. He’ll be okay.”
Belmira’s face twisted with disbelief, but Hattie only smiled wider, even though it hurt.
“He will. We, er, might have to stay here for a bit though. Give him a chance to heal.”
Belmira said nothing for a long moment before nodding. “Okay. I’m going to see if I can collect water or some food. You should make a tarp out of the tent. It’s going to rain on him otherwise.”
Hattie nodded and the two of them split up.
Belmira vanished into the underbrush, taking her knife and the pot that Keith had brought in his backpack to collect water.
Hattie grabbed her alien knife and got to work breaking down the tent. Tuvo wouldn’t fit in it even if they could get him in there. His huge body wouldn’t curl up in the single person space. But she could use the fabric and the poles and some fern leaves to make a basic lean-to.
As she was working, Keith woke up. He saw her destroying the tent and made a sound of protest before yelling at her for wasting their supplies.
Tuvo didn’t wake up, but he did start growling. Unconscious, but still reflexively ready to defend her against any threat.
That was when Keith finally noticed him laid out beside Hattie.
He didn’t help her after that, but he at least kept his mouth shut.
He went and sat down somewhere, saying he was keeping watch.
It seemed more like he was just staring into the abyss.
Hattie didn’t really care because, at least, he wasn’t being detrimental.
Belmira returned later that evening, carrying a variety of scavenged things – roots and mushrooms and a single squash – the pot was still empty. She hadn’t found water.
Belmira helped her set up the shelter over Tuvo just in time for the skies to open. Belmira set out the pot and they took turns drinking through the survival straw whenever it got full. Trying to collect as much as possible since it wouldn’t rain again until tomorrow.
Hattie used rocks to grind some of mushrooms and a bit of the squash into a paste.
She used the alien knife to cut open one of the many, partially sealed wounds on her arm back open and let the blood mix with the mash.
She knew it was an aphrodisiac to him, but he needed the nutrition to regain his strength, and, without him, they couldn’t hunt anything fresh.
After using the rainwater to clean his back, they rolled him over so she could feed him the mash. It was a long, slow process.
Days passed that way. The first was bad, but the second was the worst. He was shivering and twitching and sweating and Hattie was terrified he wouldn’t wake up.
They used the dried jaguar skin Keith had rolled up in the backpack as a blanket, but there was nothing they could give him as he fought through the fever on his own.
Hattie didn’t sleep at all that night. She kept up a constant vigil on Tuvo.
Terrified that he might stop breathing if she turned her eyes away for even a second.
Luckily, Belmira was comfortable in the forest. She took care of foraging food and keeping away bugs and snakes.
Keith sometimes helped her, sometimes kept watch. It was only Hattie who tended Tuvo.
The dawning of the third day brought with it a break in his fever. He stopped shaking but started sweating and thrashing. Hattie removed the jaguar skin and instead focused on wiping the sweat away from his brow.
She was exhausted. Her vision was blurry, her body was shaking, but he wasn’t better yet. She couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t better.
He kind of came around that night. Not really fully awake, but enough that he could eat the mash and drink some water.
Since he was coming around, Hattie didn’t give him anymore of her blood.
The last thing she needed was his blood traveling south and away from his brain if he was awake enough for it to affect him.
She struggled against sleeping that night as well. She sat up so she wasn’t tempted to drift away. Every time she tried, her body would slump forward suddenly, waking her up again.
She couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t awake yet. He had stopped shaking. He looked like he was actually resting, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t want to risk it.
She couldn’t sleep.
She couldn’t… sleep…
…couldn’t…
***
It was the slow, weighted stroking of her head that woke her up.
Prying apart her eyes was like trying to lift a hundred pounds. Heavy and tiring. She didn’t want to wake up. Just a few more… hours. It was still dark. She should sleep.
Letting out a long breath, she relaxed, curling her legs in tighter to the source of warmth she was leaning against. That sturdy, strong rock. Breathing slowly. Stroking her hair.