Threatened by Eliot Schrefer

Author:Eliot Schrefer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2014-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

For the first few hours I was on edge, waiting for Drummer to regain consciousness and wondering what he — or I — might do once he did. Gradually I calmed: His good leg would sometimes twitch, but otherwise there was little sign of activity. He was deep in slumber, maybe even a coma.

I continued the salt drip all that day, switching arms whenever one got tired, only occasionally taking a break to forage or pee or check on Omar, and drenching the wound with extra salt water when I returned.

As the afternoon wore dim, I considered what I’d do come evening. The idea of making a solitary trek to the tent made me sick with lonely sadness. Once there I’d . . . what? Do a quick rice boil if I had the energy, another session of that chemical cleaning of my teeth that felt like a conversation with Prof . . . but then? Say good night to Omar and settle in to that tent alone, take in the lingering scent of blood and moonsickness? I couldn’t imagine it. More than anything, I feared having enough free space for my thoughts to stay on Prof.

Mango relaxed more and more into my lap, reveling in our closeness. Sometimes she would raise her long arms and loop them around my neck, still facing her brother. She’d idly tug on my hair, hoping to improvise a game. Whenever I was still for too long while operating the drip, she would bounce in my lap to get my attention, amused when the salt water sloshed onto her brother. At least I assumed it was amusement; only her bottom teeth showed, and she made raspy sounds as she pouted.

I decided to gather what belongings I could in one trip to the campsite, including Omar’s basin so I could tempt him to relocate, and then spend the night with Drummer and Mango. When I put the kettle down and stood up, Mango tumbled out of my lap and stared up at me in shock. She promptly climbed up to ride on my back, her legs a tight hoop around my waist. She was a lot heavier than Omar, who was so light that I could sometimes forget he was even on me.

As I started to climb the fallen tree, Mango scrambled down from my back and returned to her brother, draping herself over his chest. She glared at me, reproachful that I would dare leave her again. “Stay here; that’s fine,” I said. “I’ll be back soon. Guard your brother for a few minutes, okay?”

When I returned with the tent and food, I found Drummer in the same position, Mango wrapped tight around his shoulders as she dozed. I cleared enough ground to pitch the tent in the lee of the fallen tree. I couldn’t get the structure to its full length, but I got enough of it stretched over the roots for its sides to rise and serve as protection for us all.

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