Always Would
They had been lost for an eternity.
Watt squinted down at the map stretched out in his hands, despite the fact the paper had previously been soaked through with sweat and rain, and they had no way to know which way was up or down.
Cornelius knew without looking at the map that any remaining ink was sparse, the whole damn thing rendered pointless.
They’d have better luck with their navigational instruments, if those hadn’t been swallowed by the marsh.
It hadn’t taken long for their endeavor to nosedive, for it seemed the land was against their every step.
A few days after they left Joaquim's site, the weather had shifted into perpetual thunderstorms that lasted for three days straight.
The sound was unlike anything Cornelius had ever heard, each thunder crack shook the ground with the full force of their rage.
The rain fell in heavy sheets, pinning the trio into a makeshift shelter for days upon end.
It was a close fit, and would have been intimate and awkward if not for the insects burrowing into every nook and cranny available.
They ate very little, since a fire and hunting for any supplemental protein was impossible.
When the rain had cleared and travel was possible again, they were faced with mud, flooding, and surprise marshes.
With the jungle as thick as it was, it reminded Cornelius of what he’d read the everglades to be like.
Thick with trees, predators, muck, and water.
Serious flooding had occurred and it took days for all that rainwater to seep back into the ground, which had been hardened by drought.
One wrong step introduced the first surprise marsh, which had sucked Cornelius in up to his waist. Watt had gotten the worst of it trying to pull him out, and their gear had been caked with mud.
What wasn't claimed by the swamp, anyway.
The landscape changed little in terms of landmarks, and it gave the illusion of traveling in circles.
Hell, for all they knew that was true. Cornelius had fallen more in the past month than he had in all his life, even more than on their way to the site.
He hurt everywhere, he was exhausted, and he was annoyed.
“I think …” Watt looked up, frowned at the surrounding jungle, then back down at the map again.
That was it. Cornelius splintered apart.
“For hell’s sake Watt, for once in your life just admit that you failed!” Cornelius shouted, and birds took flight overhead. He hadn’t even realized the words were coming until they’d been thrown into the air between them.
Watt jerked back, stunned. His mouth opened and closed, then he methodically folded the map. He clutched it in his hand and said, “What are you talking about?” He shook his head and laughed, the sound rang hollow. “All I do is fail.”
Cornelius jabbed a finger in his direction. “Oh, don’t you dare.”
“No.” Watt straightened, his body going rigid.
“My life may look like a string of successes to you, but it is not. I am lonely and odd and queer in a way that has nothing to do with my … habits!” He threaded a viciously shaking hand through his hair, knocking his hat into the grass.
Maggie whined, a shrill noise Cornelius had never heard before.
But he’d also never seen Watt like this before.
His eyes were wild, and he sucked in air like his life depended on it.
Suddenly, Cornelius felt very small as he watched the other man come undone.
This was his fault. He did this. Maggie whined again from her place at Watt's feet, but she wasn’t looking up at him.
Cornelius’ attention was redirected when Watt’s previous near shout drained to a whisper.
“I could give two shits about recognition and wealth and everything else. That sounds ungrateful and I’m sure it is, but what I want is to be happy.
In that, I have failed for nearly every day of my life. Except …”
Watt stared at Cornelius, his hand tore out strands as it dropped to his side. “Except for the past few months … with you.” He said this last piece like a revelation, and the words sank into Cornelius’ bones deeper than any prayer ever would.
Cornelius said, “Watt, I—”
Maggie yelped, her cry high and sharp. She jumped and spun in place, her cry transforming into a vicious growl.
“Maggie?” Watt startled, hands reaching down to steady her. “It’s alright girl, I’m alright.”
Watt’s hat falling into the grass. The shrill cry Cornelius assumed came from Maggie.
Time slowed, and the next few moments unfolded in fractured bits and pieces, pieces that would never come back together, no matter how much time passed for Cornelius. At that moment, all he could foresee was Watt bitten.
Watt dying.
Watt gone.
He didn’t remember putting his knife to hand, but his fingers closed around the familiar handle all the same.
Cornelius lunged before Watt could run his hands further down Maggie’s body.
Cornelius yelled, “Snake!”
He hit his knees and grabbed the snake by its tail, stretching it taut with all the strength and bravery he could muster.
“Cornelius!” Watt cried in alarm.
Maggie yelped and turned ‘round in an effort to bite him, but Watt caught her by the snout just in time.
Cornelius brought the knife down, striking behind the snake’s head. Bone and flesh were severed in one clean motion.
The headless body twitched and writhed in Cornelius’ hand, wracked with death defying nerves.
Warm blood splattered across his hand, his arm, his clothes.
A fleck landed near his eye. Cornelius nearly threw the corpse but had enough sense of mind to simply drop it.
The fangs, and head still attached to them, were embedded into Maggie’s back leg, the upper thigh.
The eyes rolled in the snake's head, and Cornelius thought he could still hear it hissing. Or maybe that was the air rushing in and out of his own lungs. He couldn’t tell how much was post-mortem movement and how much was Maggie moving around.
She was crying, quivering in pain and drooling all over Watt’s thigh.
Watt stood doubled over and held her head against him, whispering frantically to her.
“Maggie, oh Maggie. It’s alright, girl. Shh, it’s alright.
” His wide, terrified eyes flicked to Cornelius, as if he could stop Watt’s heart from breaking.
Tears streamed down Watt’s flushed face, cutting through the dirt on his cheeks.
Cornelius cleared his throat, which did nothing to shake off his nerves. He said, “I—I’m going to try and pull it out now.”
Watt nodded furiously. “Okay. I’ve got her.”
Cornelius reached for the snake’s head, fingers trembling.
“Be careful,” Watt added.
Cornelius said nothing, because despite all the blood and its lack of a body, he was quite sure the thing was going to turn ‘round and bite him. His fingers brushed against the snake’s scales and he shivered, revulsion coursing through him.
But the snake did not move, at least not to bite him.
Those eyes still rolled, furious and indignant.
Keeping in mind the way the snake masters had milked snakes, he pulled the upper jaw in an upwards and back motion in an effort to unhinge the fangs.
Maggie protested against the pull on her flesh, and Watt soothed her with a string of soft praise.
With great care, Cornelius removed the whole affair from her leg.
He gingerly tossed the head onto the path back the way they’d come, then stood and located his bag.
He must’ve shucked it in the place he’d been standing before.
“What’re you doing?” Watt asked, his voice strident.
“See if you can get her to lay down,” Cornelius said, rifling through his supplies.
“We need to treat it.” It only took him a moment to locate the first aid kit he’d made, complete with the antivenin.
By the time he returned, Watt was sat down in the dirt with Maggie pulled into the space between his legs, her head tucked against his ribs. She was twitching.
'Fuck,' Cornelius thought.
“Do you think—wait, is that—Cornelius?”
“It’s a bushmaster,” Cornelius said and knelt in the space between Watt’s spread legs, laying out the antivenin kit and necessary cleaning supplies.
He wiped off the blade of his knife with the corner of his shirt, then squinted at Watt.
“Can you hold her still? I’ll need to shave the fur in order to get a good look at the bite, then douse it in the iodine and administer the antivenin. ”
“But that’s for—”
“Do you want me to save her or not?” Cornelius barked.
“Yes,” Watt croaked, arms tightening around Maggie. “Yes.”
Cornelius took a deep breath. “Then hold her.”
He worked as quickly as he could without making mistakes.
He wasn’t able to shave her as close as he would’ve liked, but it would do for now.
The punctures were deep, and the holes jagged.
He poured iodine perhaps far too liberally than he should’ve, but alas.
Maggie whimpered, and Cornelius did his best to ignore her.
To ignore everything in this situation that wasn’t the wound itself.
He prepared the second to last bothropic ampule they had, then the enormous needle. His stomach rolled and he inhaled slowly, doing his best to steady his trembling fingers. Finally, Cornelius locked eyes with Watt. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. Do it.”
Cornelius steadied Maggie’s shaking leg and injected her with the antivenin.
He prayed to the universe, to Watt’s God, to anyone who was listening, that it worked.
She whimpered beneath his ministrations, but not once did she try to bite him again or pull against Watt’s hold.
She gasped for air, and by the time Cornelius withdrew the needle from her flesh, he was too.