Page 18 of House Divided
Their march resumed.
It was perhaps half an hour later that Madeline suddenly asked, “Do you hear that?”
They both stopped, and Enoch turned to look at her. He tilted his head and replied, “I do. That sounds like a creek.”
“I think it’s this way,” said Madeline, and turned to the east to push through an area where the grass grew taller and thicker.
“Madeline, wait—” called Enoch, but it was too late.
“It’s over here!” she called, jogging through the tall grass, then Madeline cried out as she felt a hot stabbing pain in her calf.
“No!” shouted Enoch, hitting the quick releases on his pack and running after her. She had fallen, but the grass was still moving where he had last seen her. He pulled a knife from its sheath on his belt.
A snakelike creature, its red scales matching the grass, was wrapped around Madeline’s right leg, its fangs sunk into the cloth just above her boot. Without hesitation, Enoch sliced off the creature’s head, tossing away the body and carefully removing the fanged head from Madeline’s calf.
Enoch looked at her anxiously. Madeline was already unconscious. Carefully avoiding the fangs, he put the snake-thing’s head into a thick canvas utility pouch. He then dragged Madeline’s body out of the tall grass, to give himself room to work, and just in case there were any more of the creatures.
Once Enoch had her clear, he cut away Madeline’s pant leg to look at the bite area. He grimaced. The fabric of her pants had taken much of the force away from the bite, but the creature’s fangs had still punctured her skin. Venom had made its way into Madeline’s bloodstream. He could see a thin dark line, like a black vein, that had made its way upward about an inch or more.
“This is going to hurt,” he said to the unconscious Madeline. “I’m sorry.” Taking his knife, he made an incision in her leg in the shape of an x, just above the puncture. Leaning down, he put the x-incision to his mouth and sucked as hard as he could.
There was a vile bitterness mixed with the coppery taste of blood. He spat and rinsed his mouth with water, which he also spat out. Then he put his mouth to her leg and did it again. It still held the same taste but not as much. He rinsed his mouth and repeated the procedure a third time. Enoch felt unpleasant and a little dizzy.
He examined her leg. The little black vein had not risen any further. Enoch turned to his backpack and removed the medical kit, cleaning the puncture area as well as his incision with antiseptic spray before bandaging everything. Enoch stood up. He felt a little nauseated, although at this point, he wasn’t sure if it was some side effect of the venom he had sucked or not.
Right. Decision time.No way to tell if someone is looking for us. If we simply wait for help, Madeline may well die. She has better odds if I find someone on this damned planet, and that means getting up into the hills so I can at least see if there is a settlement anywhere.
Enoch quickly and methodically emptied his pack as well as Madeline’s. Using the light, flexible tent poles, and the tent’s canvas, he assembled a simpletravois, a kind of handheld sled in which he could drag Madeline’s unconscious body as well as some of their supplies. He calculated what he could carry on his bag in addition to the sled and reorganized his pack.
Enoch carefully laid Madeline onto the sled, strapping her tightly. He stroked the hair from her forehead and felt her temperature.
No fever yet. Good sign.
He then packed what he could around her body, using the items to secure Madeline more solidly into place. Then he swung his pack onto his back and secured it tightly.
Enoch picked up the handles of the sled and eyed the hills and mountains to the north. Then he took a deep breath and ran.
***
Enoch quickly settled into his stride, his long legs steadily eating up the ground beneath his feet. He was unhappy with the mild light-headedness he was feeling—probably some aftereffect of the damned venom—but aside from that, he was pleased with how his body was responding. Thankfully, the makeshift sled moved easily over the red grass, with a minimum of bumps, although Madeline was not sufficiently conscious to feel them anyway.
Enoch resolutely refused to let his mind focus on the odds of Madeline’s system fighting off the venom, let alone their odds of actually finding anyone. Instead, he narrowed his focus to the next patch of grass, to approaching the next tree in the distance, then passing it.
He had done this before. The Alliance’s war on the Onin systems had been an incredibly brutal affair, and he knew better than most what those words meant. Enoch had seen with his own eyes what happened when Alliance agents—terrorists, really—had triggered virus bombs in populated areas. He had dug through the rubble left by orbital bombardment, searching for the body of his beloved wife.
Grace Immanuel. Dead, long years ago. And with her, all hope of love.Or so I thought. If this is supposed to be my second chance, I will not let it fall through my fingers.
Enoch paused, breathing heavily. He carefully set the sled down and checked Madeline’s temperature. Was she a little warm? It was hard to tell. He slowly poured some water between her lips, making sure she swallowed, then took some water himself.
When he straightened up, he felt a little dizzy.Not good.
Must keep going.
Enoch picked up the sled and continued his lonely run once more.
By midday, he found another stream and refilled the canteens, dropping a water purification tablet in each one. Enoch was sweating heavily by this point, and his body was sending him signals that he was actively unwell. He ignored them all.
Madeline needs me to keep going. My Madeline.
