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to be
pragmatic about the situation. He attended to the living and mourned the dead
later. It was something they were all familiar with. But it seemed as if they
had to push off the dying men’s needs too often with this mission.
    They stayed low as Homer put a layer of antibiotic on Gates’
hand and then bandaged it. But as soon as Homer had wrapped Gates’ injury,
Gates started to move back. “Where are you going?” Homer held out a syringe as
he asked his question. “We’re not done here.”
    “We can do that later. If we stay here, we’re sitting
ducks.” He was surprised that combatants hadn’t filled the jungle around them
even as he said the words. It was odd that there’d been the two arrows fired
and then nothing else. As he moved back another foot, though, black spots began
to dance through his field of vision. He shook his head to clear it but the
movement only made him feel ill.
    “We’ll do it now. We can’t risk infection setting in.” Homer
advanced the small distance that separated them and gave Gates the injection.
As the needle retracted into the empty vial, Homer paused. “Are you feeling
okay, sir?”
    Gates needed to scout out the area. Find the men who’d
attacked them. But his skin was damp with a light mist of sweat and his hands
had a slight tremble to them. “I’ll be fine.”
    Homer picked up the arrow and sniffed the tip. “It smells
bitter.”
    Gates didn’t know what Homer meant. Blood always smelled
metallic to him. Still, it seemed important to Homer since he pulled a cotton
swab out of his cargo pants and then placed the fuzzy tip to the metal. As
Gates watched Homer work he had to admit that everything did seem odd. The
fluffy tip of the cotton swab momentarily fascinated him. And when he looked
up, the trees seemed impossibly tall. “I don’t feel so great.”
    “And I’m working on finding the reason for that.” Homer
placed the swab into a vial with clear liquid at the base. As soon as the swab
touched it, the liquid turned green. “There’s a foreign chemical on the arrow.
Looks as if it’s from the hallucinogen family.”
    Julian crept up to where they were and squatted next to
them. It took all of the common sense Gates had left not to reach out to him.
“We need to get him and Jones out of here before the assailants come to finish
off the job.”
    Homer looked around. “I don’t think there’s anyone out
there.”
    “Someone fired the arrows.” Julian’s words made sense. But
surely if this had been an ambush the attackers would be swarming the group by
now. And if it wasn’t an ambush they needed to figure out what just happened.
    There was the chance it was a trap. Gates had seen it enough
times to know better than to dismiss the idea out of hand. But either way they
needed to clear the area. “Jules is right. We should move. Set up camp a good
distance away from here and then send a couple of scouts back.” He tried to
stand but his head spun dangerously at the attempt.
    “You aren’t going anywhere. At least not without help.”
Homer looked around the group. “Prescott, give the commander a shoulder.”
    The only thing Gates hated more than his medic issuing
orders was knowing it was necessary. He couldn’t stand on his own let alone
hike to a secure location. So when Prescott hefted him up and then held him
securely around the waist, he didn’t complain. Even though the sudden movement
made his head feel as if it were about to explode. Sure, he might’ve moaned a
little. But he didn’t complain.
    Julian, however, threw a glare at the man that made his feelings
obvious to any who were looking. It would’ve made Gates laugh if he didn’t feel
like shit. “How long until the hallucinogen wears off?” They’d started walking
and each step was agonizing for Gates.
    “Hard to say. I have no idea what we’re dealing with or how
large of a dose you were given. And since it was introduced straight to your
bloodstream, there’s really