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Authors: Kilayla Pilon
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and closed my eyes. “We’ll see what to do with you tomorrow.”
Chapter 5
Thunder rumbled above, sounding every few moments. I sat up, pulling the blanket off and shot towards the mouth of the tent. Jumper’s eyes flung open with a start, jumping up and letting out a loud wail of surprise.
“Sorry, buddy,” I gasped, scooping up the little guy in my arms. He crawled into my shirt; ears pinned to his skull as I zipped open the tent and poked my head outside, looking up . Darkness greeted me, the sky covered in rolling dark clouds. Somewhere to the east of us, a flock of ravens called out, loud and raucous.
“Crap,” I grumbled, pushing out of the tent with Jumper burying deeper into my shirt, clinging on to my shirt with h is claws. Isaac’s tent was open, the door unzipped and I could see he wasn’t inside by the lack of movement and shadows being cast against the side.
“Dad,” Isaac’s voice carried toward me and I scanned the area for him. He was leaning into the cart, his to rso hidden from view. “Dad, please…” Desperation was clear in his voice.
“Isaac?” I called, hesitant as I approached him.
“Arin, he hasn’t woken up,” Isaac whispered, his voice tight. “There’s so much blood.” I could see the alarm, the intense fear he felt bubbling inside of him, sparkling in his wide green eyes, and I wished I could do something, anything to comfort him, but there was not a thing I could do. I wasn’t going to fill his head with reassuring lies that his father was going to wake up, that the wounded man was going to be fine when it was obvious that he wasn’t that he was wounded far beyond anything I knew how to fix. I just hoped the bandage would be enough to keep infection away until we could figure out what it was we were going to do – and if there was anything we could do.
“Is he breathing?” I said after a long while, leaning in to look at the man. Jumper hissed, squirming and scattering out of my shirt, thumping against the ground and skittering towards the fire pit, ears pinned to his sku ll and pupils dilated.
“What the hell is that?” Isaac asked, spinning around to look at the outraged feline.
“Jumper, I found him last night,” I answered, shaking my head and turning back to Seth. “Leave him be for now, we’ll talk about him after.” I leaned towards the man, silent, trying to listen to his breathing.
I noticed it, and heard it – his breathing was quick and ragged, a scratchy sound emanating from him with each weak rise and fall of his chest. I stepped backwards, shaking my head, chewing on my lip. I could taste blood.
“Isaac, he doesn’t sound good and I don’t know what to do. I’m not a doctor,” I s tated, putting my hands up in front of me. “My hands are tied. I wish they weren’t and I wish I knew what I could do, believe me, but I don’t.”
“There has to be something we can do,” Isaac spat, shoving me out of the way. “There has to be.” He moved his ha nd towards his father, resting his palm on the man’s limp arm, eyes darting back and forth, searching.
“Isaac, I wish I knew what I - what we - could do,” I repeated, exhaling a heavy, frustrated breath. I glanced up at Isaac, turning my gaze to his hand grasping his father’s arm. It reminded me so much of my mother and how I had clung to her for the night, crying myself to sleep.
I turned away, tears springing to my eyes, a lump forming in my throat, making it hard to even bring in a single breath. I miss ed her; I could feel it in my bones and the churning in my stomach at the realization that she wouldn’t be there to comfort me if Seth didn’t make it. I could never describe, never word just how much I yearned for the presence of my mother and father. I didn’t want Isaac to feel the same way; I doubted he could handle the loss.
Isaac turned to me with tears in his eyes as he let out a cry of surprise, pushing away from the cart in a sudden, rushed movement, pulling
Chapter 5
Thunder rumbled above, sounding every few moments. I sat up, pulling the blanket off and shot towards the mouth of the tent. Jumper’s eyes flung open with a start, jumping up and letting out a loud wail of surprise.
“Sorry, buddy,” I gasped, scooping up the little guy in my arms. He crawled into my shirt; ears pinned to his skull as I zipped open the tent and poked my head outside, looking up . Darkness greeted me, the sky covered in rolling dark clouds. Somewhere to the east of us, a flock of ravens called out, loud and raucous.
“Crap,” I grumbled, pushing out of the tent with Jumper burying deeper into my shirt, clinging on to my shirt with h is claws. Isaac’s tent was open, the door unzipped and I could see he wasn’t inside by the lack of movement and shadows being cast against the side.
“Dad,” Isaac’s voice carried toward me and I scanned the area for him. He was leaning into the cart, his to rso hidden from view. “Dad, please…” Desperation was clear in his voice.
“Isaac?” I called, hesitant as I approached him.
“Arin, he hasn’t woken up,” Isaac whispered, his voice tight. “There’s so much blood.” I could see the alarm, the intense fear he felt bubbling inside of him, sparkling in his wide green eyes, and I wished I could do something, anything to comfort him, but there was not a thing I could do. I wasn’t going to fill his head with reassuring lies that his father was going to wake up, that the wounded man was going to be fine when it was obvious that he wasn’t that he was wounded far beyond anything I knew how to fix. I just hoped the bandage would be enough to keep infection away until we could figure out what it was we were going to do – and if there was anything we could do.
“Is he breathing?” I said after a long while, leaning in to look at the man. Jumper hissed, squirming and scattering out of my shirt, thumping against the ground and skittering towards the fire pit, ears pinned to his sku ll and pupils dilated.
“What the hell is that?” Isaac asked, spinning around to look at the outraged feline.
“Jumper, I found him last night,” I answered, shaking my head and turning back to Seth. “Leave him be for now, we’ll talk about him after.” I leaned towards the man, silent, trying to listen to his breathing.
I noticed it, and heard it – his breathing was quick and ragged, a scratchy sound emanating from him with each weak rise and fall of his chest. I stepped backwards, shaking my head, chewing on my lip. I could taste blood.
“Isaac, he doesn’t sound good and I don’t know what to do. I’m not a doctor,” I s tated, putting my hands up in front of me. “My hands are tied. I wish they weren’t and I wish I knew what I could do, believe me, but I don’t.”
“There has to be something we can do,” Isaac spat, shoving me out of the way. “There has to be.” He moved his ha nd towards his father, resting his palm on the man’s limp arm, eyes darting back and forth, searching.
“Isaac, I wish I knew what I - what we - could do,” I repeated, exhaling a heavy, frustrated breath. I glanced up at Isaac, turning my gaze to his hand grasping his father’s arm. It reminded me so much of my mother and how I had clung to her for the night, crying myself to sleep.
I turned away, tears springing to my eyes, a lump forming in my throat, making it hard to even bring in a single breath. I miss ed her; I could feel it in my bones and the churning in my stomach at the realization that she wouldn’t be there to comfort me if Seth didn’t make it. I could never describe, never word just how much I yearned for the presence of my mother and father. I didn’t want Isaac to feel the same way; I doubted he could handle the loss.
Isaac turned to me with tears in his eyes as he let out a cry of surprise, pushing away from the cart in a sudden, rushed movement, pulling
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