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monaboyd Aug. 15th, 2008 11:58 pm)
hyacinth-sky747.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Aug. 15th, 2008 11:58 pm)Wishing Stars: Twelve
One, Two, Three, Four, Five,Six Seven,Eight,Nine Ten Eleven
Adrenalin got them five miles away from their base and perseverance earned them another three mile buffer. At this point Paul collapsed beside a stream and stuck his face in the water. Mortensen dropped his pack and Dom and Devin stood panting with their hands on their knees.
“Just fucking leave me here,” Paul said. He laid his head on a rock and his body trembled.
“For fuck’s sake. Get up.”
“Dom,” Mortensen’s voice was quiet but stern.
“Like we’re going to leave him. He wants to be carried. Want your mother too?”
“Leave him alone!” Devin cried. “He’s sick. He was before all this.”
“All of you need to lower your voices right now. That’s an order. In fact, don’t speak unless I tell you to.”
Dom nodded and subsided. He stumbled over to the stream for a drink and then rested against a boulder, trying to bring his breathing under control. His arm ached. He knew he’d been hit by flying shrapnel but he hadn’t a chance to look at it yet. He didn’t know if he wanted to. His forehead was bleeding too and the sweat was making it sting. He wasn’t going to complain though, couldn’t, really, after what he’d just said to Paul.
“Devin,” Mortensen said. “You hurt?”
“No sir.”
“Come help me then. Dom and Paul need to be seen to before we go any further.”
Devin washed his hands as best he could in the stream and started unpacking the few medical supplies he had.
“See to Dom.”
Dom expected Devin to scowl at this order, but he didn’t. He was a soldier, a medic, and would do his job. He knelt beside Dom and gave him a reassuring smile. The man was a fucking saint.
“We’ll see to your head first, yeah?”
Dom nodded and let Devin wash the wound.
“It’s not deep. Head wounds just bleed a lot. We’ll put on a bandage to keep the dirt out.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at Paul.”
Devin smiled again. “No, you shouldn’t have, but you’ll apologize to him later and he’ll forgive you. Let’s take care of you just now.”
Dom nodded and closed his eyes as Devin cut away the sleeve of Dom’s shirt.
“This one’s deeper. It’s…pretty deep. I’ll stitch it now and you should start taking some antibiotics. Keep it covered.”
Dom smirked. “Do you have antibiotics?”
Devin frowned. “I’ve got some. Enough to last until we’re rescued. Don’t worry.”
Dom wanted to worry but Devin was cleaning the wound and it was all Dom could do to grit his teeth and bear it.
Devin finished and wiped his hands dry on a towel. “How’s Paul?” he called to Mortensen.
“He has a cold, maybe pneumonia. He’ll need to sleep tonight. If we go easy we should be able to hike until nightfall but we’ll have to stop to rest.” Mortensen looked uneasily at the forest around them. “It would be better if we could keep moving.”
~*~
By dusk Paul was wheezing and sweat was running down Dom’s face so thickly it felt like tears. Mortensen pushed them on until they reached a small lake. Devin tended to his patients while the general cobbled together a small lean-to. Biting insects harassed them through the night. Near dawn a soft but steady rain came down, chilling them all.
~*~
“Where are we going?”
Mortensen looked up from the map he had spread out on the sand. The sun shone weakly through the clouds but the rain had stopped.
“I think we’re here.” Mortensen pointed to a blue dot on the map that he guessed was their lake. “Our base was here, in the south-east.”
“So we head north-west,” Dom said.
“Until we run out of both.”
Dom studied the map again. The western coast was about a hundred miles away. Dom had studied the region extensively, pouring over maps and satellite images late at night back at the base. He knew the coast was rocky and barren and that there was nothing approaching civilization within that territory. In fact, the closest settlement was Kiana, ninety unpaved, barely-mapped, rough miles to the south-east.
“We can’t go north.”
“No. We’d be above the tree line. If they’re flying, looking for us, we’d have no place to hide.”
That was the least of their worries about going north, Dom thought. The tree line didn’t stop because of altitude it stopped because of latitude. They were currently just below the artic circle and the dense forests that marched all over the continent gave way before the harsh conditions of the north just a handful of miles from where they were standing.
It was already the beginning of autumn and they had no shelter and only the clothes they were wearing. Trees couldn’t survive there. All the animals burrowed and slept. It’d be a no-go zone for life forms in just a few weeks.
“So, we’re fucked?”
“You’ve gotten men out of tougher spots.”
Dom sputtered. “In battle! In space! I don’t know anything about this.”
“Come on, we can’t go south, east, north or west. What does that leave us?”
“Um…up?”
Mortensen smiled. “Not an option with out a craft I’m afraid.”
“Then that leaves nothing, except staying here, which will be rather inhospitable in a short period of time.”
“Look at the map. Let me know your decision in an hour. We’ll be ready to move.”
~*~
The enemy was in the south-east. Certain death at the hands of winter lay to the north and west. The bright shining jewel of Kiana was in the south-east. They would go west to a river that ran to the southern coast, build a raft, head due south, pray.
“What would the enemy expect us to do?”
“Exactly what we’re doing, but maybe they think we’ll choose a different river. Maybe they expect we’ll die, or are dead.”
“I died once. It wasn’t any fun. Let’s not do that.”
~*~
The journey to the river was forty miles through forest and then onto open tundra. When the trees fell away they all gave a sigh of relief. It would be easier to be spotted in the open but they were tired of fighting their way through thickets. The tundra spread out like picnic blanket, smooth and unfettered. It was deceiving.
The grass was matted and wet and tugged at their feet. The hills were steep and plentiful. By the end of the first day they had covered 18 miles. Every one of them was a chore.
Paul was white down to his lips.
“Leave us,” Devin said when they had stopped to rest for the night.
Viggo (who had put an end to the General Mortensen business that morning) wandered off to survey the land. Dom slunk away to a little shrub and sat in the scanty shelter it provided from the wind. He took out his journal. It wasn’t a journal anymore. It was one long letter to Billy.
I don’t want to think about you anymore. It hurts to think about comfort here, where there is none. If I could forget it would be better. I need to forget love and comfort and worlds without pain. I won’t say anything to the others, Bill. I won’t drag them down…but my arm, Bill. It won’t let me think straight. I’ve stopped taking the antibiotics. Paul needs them more than me. I know I promised to fight as hard as I could to get back to you but…I won’t fight Paul to live. I couldn’t look you in the eye if I did that and if I couldn’t I’d rather be dead.
Bill! Billy, Billy, Billy, Doctor Bill. What would you say to me?
The thing of it is, Bill, is that it’s not all bad. When I’m hiking along I’m in all this pain but it’s like when you’re running, you know, out for a little jog and your muscles burn and your breath comes fast but it’s all good and you think that you’d rather go on than feel the pain of stopping, of trying to bring your breath back down. It’s like that. Like living hurts but dieing might hurt more.
Yesterday we were walking through a valley and up on the ridge there was this great beast, like a bear. We were down-wind and stayed very still and watched him for awhile. He was magnificent. He moved off and so did we.
Later, there was this tree way out on the tundra. This brave little tree, Bill, that had wandered off to brave the north wind. Such a thing might give one hope, Bill, but it was dead, just bleached and dead. And on its top-most branch was a skull. I think it was the skull of one of the bear-type creatures we saw.
Paul burst into tears and couldn’t go on for many minutes. He was trembling so.
Bill? I lied. It wasn’t Paul who cried. It was me.
I think I might be dieing. I’m trying to imagine you holding me, like you said I should, but the arms of the wind are so cold. Its voice is harsh. If I remember you I’ll remember comfort and I might just slip into death. I’m thinking it may be more comfortable than living now that I’ve stopped and got my breath back.
If I don’t come back, pretend you married me? Hold on to me now. In a little while, perhaps, you can let go.
One, Two, Three, Four, Five,Six Seven,Eight,Nine Ten Eleven
Adrenalin got them five miles away from their base and perseverance earned them another three mile buffer. At this point Paul collapsed beside a stream and stuck his face in the water. Mortensen dropped his pack and Dom and Devin stood panting with their hands on their knees.
“Just fucking leave me here,” Paul said. He laid his head on a rock and his body trembled.
“For fuck’s sake. Get up.”
“Dom,” Mortensen’s voice was quiet but stern.
“Like we’re going to leave him. He wants to be carried. Want your mother too?”
“Leave him alone!” Devin cried. “He’s sick. He was before all this.”
“All of you need to lower your voices right now. That’s an order. In fact, don’t speak unless I tell you to.”
Dom nodded and subsided. He stumbled over to the stream for a drink and then rested against a boulder, trying to bring his breathing under control. His arm ached. He knew he’d been hit by flying shrapnel but he hadn’t a chance to look at it yet. He didn’t know if he wanted to. His forehead was bleeding too and the sweat was making it sting. He wasn’t going to complain though, couldn’t, really, after what he’d just said to Paul.
“Devin,” Mortensen said. “You hurt?”
“No sir.”
“Come help me then. Dom and Paul need to be seen to before we go any further.”
Devin washed his hands as best he could in the stream and started unpacking the few medical supplies he had.
“See to Dom.”
Dom expected Devin to scowl at this order, but he didn’t. He was a soldier, a medic, and would do his job. He knelt beside Dom and gave him a reassuring smile. The man was a fucking saint.
“We’ll see to your head first, yeah?”
Dom nodded and let Devin wash the wound.
“It’s not deep. Head wounds just bleed a lot. We’ll put on a bandage to keep the dirt out.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at Paul.”
Devin smiled again. “No, you shouldn’t have, but you’ll apologize to him later and he’ll forgive you. Let’s take care of you just now.”
Dom nodded and closed his eyes as Devin cut away the sleeve of Dom’s shirt.
“This one’s deeper. It’s…pretty deep. I’ll stitch it now and you should start taking some antibiotics. Keep it covered.”
Dom smirked. “Do you have antibiotics?”
Devin frowned. “I’ve got some. Enough to last until we’re rescued. Don’t worry.”
Dom wanted to worry but Devin was cleaning the wound and it was all Dom could do to grit his teeth and bear it.
Devin finished and wiped his hands dry on a towel. “How’s Paul?” he called to Mortensen.
“He has a cold, maybe pneumonia. He’ll need to sleep tonight. If we go easy we should be able to hike until nightfall but we’ll have to stop to rest.” Mortensen looked uneasily at the forest around them. “It would be better if we could keep moving.”
~*~
By dusk Paul was wheezing and sweat was running down Dom’s face so thickly it felt like tears. Mortensen pushed them on until they reached a small lake. Devin tended to his patients while the general cobbled together a small lean-to. Biting insects harassed them through the night. Near dawn a soft but steady rain came down, chilling them all.
~*~
“Where are we going?”
Mortensen looked up from the map he had spread out on the sand. The sun shone weakly through the clouds but the rain had stopped.
“I think we’re here.” Mortensen pointed to a blue dot on the map that he guessed was their lake. “Our base was here, in the south-east.”
“So we head north-west,” Dom said.
“Until we run out of both.”
Dom studied the map again. The western coast was about a hundred miles away. Dom had studied the region extensively, pouring over maps and satellite images late at night back at the base. He knew the coast was rocky and barren and that there was nothing approaching civilization within that territory. In fact, the closest settlement was Kiana, ninety unpaved, barely-mapped, rough miles to the south-east.
“We can’t go north.”
“No. We’d be above the tree line. If they’re flying, looking for us, we’d have no place to hide.”
That was the least of their worries about going north, Dom thought. The tree line didn’t stop because of altitude it stopped because of latitude. They were currently just below the artic circle and the dense forests that marched all over the continent gave way before the harsh conditions of the north just a handful of miles from where they were standing.
It was already the beginning of autumn and they had no shelter and only the clothes they were wearing. Trees couldn’t survive there. All the animals burrowed and slept. It’d be a no-go zone for life forms in just a few weeks.
“So, we’re fucked?”
“You’ve gotten men out of tougher spots.”
Dom sputtered. “In battle! In space! I don’t know anything about this.”
“Come on, we can’t go south, east, north or west. What does that leave us?”
“Um…up?”
Mortensen smiled. “Not an option with out a craft I’m afraid.”
“Then that leaves nothing, except staying here, which will be rather inhospitable in a short period of time.”
“Look at the map. Let me know your decision in an hour. We’ll be ready to move.”
~*~
The enemy was in the south-east. Certain death at the hands of winter lay to the north and west. The bright shining jewel of Kiana was in the south-east. They would go west to a river that ran to the southern coast, build a raft, head due south, pray.
“What would the enemy expect us to do?”
“Exactly what we’re doing, but maybe they think we’ll choose a different river. Maybe they expect we’ll die, or are dead.”
“I died once. It wasn’t any fun. Let’s not do that.”
~*~
The journey to the river was forty miles through forest and then onto open tundra. When the trees fell away they all gave a sigh of relief. It would be easier to be spotted in the open but they were tired of fighting their way through thickets. The tundra spread out like picnic blanket, smooth and unfettered. It was deceiving.
The grass was matted and wet and tugged at their feet. The hills were steep and plentiful. By the end of the first day they had covered 18 miles. Every one of them was a chore.
Paul was white down to his lips.
“Leave us,” Devin said when they had stopped to rest for the night.
Viggo (who had put an end to the General Mortensen business that morning) wandered off to survey the land. Dom slunk away to a little shrub and sat in the scanty shelter it provided from the wind. He took out his journal. It wasn’t a journal anymore. It was one long letter to Billy.
I don’t want to think about you anymore. It hurts to think about comfort here, where there is none. If I could forget it would be better. I need to forget love and comfort and worlds without pain. I won’t say anything to the others, Bill. I won’t drag them down…but my arm, Bill. It won’t let me think straight. I’ve stopped taking the antibiotics. Paul needs them more than me. I know I promised to fight as hard as I could to get back to you but…I won’t fight Paul to live. I couldn’t look you in the eye if I did that and if I couldn’t I’d rather be dead.
Bill! Billy, Billy, Billy, Doctor Bill. What would you say to me?
The thing of it is, Bill, is that it’s not all bad. When I’m hiking along I’m in all this pain but it’s like when you’re running, you know, out for a little jog and your muscles burn and your breath comes fast but it’s all good and you think that you’d rather go on than feel the pain of stopping, of trying to bring your breath back down. It’s like that. Like living hurts but dieing might hurt more.
Yesterday we were walking through a valley and up on the ridge there was this great beast, like a bear. We were down-wind and stayed very still and watched him for awhile. He was magnificent. He moved off and so did we.
Later, there was this tree way out on the tundra. This brave little tree, Bill, that had wandered off to brave the north wind. Such a thing might give one hope, Bill, but it was dead, just bleached and dead. And on its top-most branch was a skull. I think it was the skull of one of the bear-type creatures we saw.
Paul burst into tears and couldn’t go on for many minutes. He was trembling so.
Bill? I lied. It wasn’t Paul who cried. It was me.
I think I might be dieing. I’m trying to imagine you holding me, like you said I should, but the arms of the wind are so cold. Its voice is harsh. If I remember you I’ll remember comfort and I might just slip into death. I’m thinking it may be more comfortable than living now that I’ve stopped and got my breath back.
If I don’t come back, pretend you married me? Hold on to me now. In a little while, perhaps, you can let go.
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Oh, god, I love this story more than I can say.
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