Read Online By Royal Command by Charlie Higson - Free Book Online

his lower right shin was bent forward at an impossible angle. There didn’t appear to be any blood, or bone sticking out through his trousers, but there was no possibility that he would be able to ski any further. Particularly as one of his skis was missing altogether and the other, though still attached to his left foot, was snapped completely in half.
    ‘It’s bad, I’m afraid,’ said James, and now Miles burst into tears.
    ‘What are we going to do?’ he wailed.
    ‘We’re going to get you down,’ said James. ‘And we’re going to get you to a hospital.’
    ‘Get down?’ Miles snapped angrily. ‘How? I can’t bloody move.’
    ‘Yes you can,’ said James hotly. ‘You’re going to bloody well have to. Unless you want to die up here.’
    ‘I’m not going to die, am I?’ said Miles fearfully, gripping on to James’s arm.
    ‘Not if I can help it,’ said James.
    ‘What can you do?’
    ‘Listen,’ said James. ‘If we work together you’ll be fine. But if you annoy me any more, I’ll leave you here. Is that clear?’
    ‘Yes. Sorry. I’m just a little scared.’
    ‘We’re both scared,’ said James. ‘And we have a right to be. We’re both still alive, though, and I aim to keep it that way.’ So saying, he took off his scarf and tore it into three long strips.
    ‘What are you doing?’ said Miles.
    ‘We need to make a splint for your leg.’
    ‘Don’t! You mustn’t touch it. I won’t let you…’
    ‘Be quiet and help me get this ski off,’ said James.
    Together they undid the binding and James put the length of broken ski against Miles’s shin.
    ‘I’m going to have to try and straighten your leg,’ he said. ‘And it’s going to hurt. Maybe you should have a slug of that schnapps you’ve been swigging.’
    Miles nodded, his face turning from white to green. He took out his flask, unscrewed the cap and put it to his lips. Quickly, while Miles was distracted, James grabbed him by the knee and ankle and tugged. There was a crunching sound. Miles screamed and fainted but his leg was more or less back at a normal angle. James checked. There was still no bleeding, which was a good sign. As James was using the strips of scarf to bind the ski tightly to Miles’s shin, he woke up. When he saw what James was doing he writhed and groaned and bit the end of his leather gauntlet hard between his teeth, but he was brave enough to let James finish, and once it was over he seemed relieved and much calmer. James noticed, however, that his skin was covered with a film of slimy sweat and his eyes had grown shiny and glasslike.
    ‘I’m going to have to try and get you on my back,’ said James, and Miles looked at him as if he was mad.
    ‘Of course,’ said James, ‘if you’ve a better suggestion…’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Use your good leg and your sticks and see if you can stand,’ said James.
    It was painful to watch but Miles managed it, wobbling up and standing bent over in the snow. James manoeuvred himself into a position a little lower down the slope from him, and he too crouched down.
    ‘Roll on to my shoulders,’ said James. ‘Slowly and carefully. If I go over it’s going to hurt.’
    Miles grunted and tipped on to James’s back. James shrugged and pulled him into a more comfortable position, all the while slipping sideways down the slope. He dug his sticks in for support and eventually managed to get Miles firmly in place.
    ‘We’ll head across to those trees over there,’ said James, ‘try and get well away from that next cliff edge below, then see if there’s anywhere we can make a straight run down.’
    He jerked himself forward, taking as gentle an angle as he could. Too little and they wouldn’t budge an inch; too much and they would be heading for the drop.
    With a bit of experimentation he found the right line and at last they were moving gently across the slope. But already his back was on fire, and the muscles in his neck screaming in protest. It was all he could do