Wild Times by Brian Garfield

Author:Brian Garfield
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media

The laughter drained out of me and I crouched to test his ankle. He winced when I touched it but we both had to know and he made no protest when I wrapped my hand around the ankle and moved it.

He never cried out but his head lolled to one side—he almost passed out. I took my hand away and straightened up, leaned my back against the steep canyon wall and brooded at him. “Ibran, you broke the damn thing. Now that’s a pretty foolish thing to do way out here.”

“The earth gave way,” he said. “It was my error. I should have tested it.”

I was sure he must have tested the rim before putting his weight on it. A fault in the cliff had given way under him but no one could have foreseen that in the darkness and in a way he was merely saving face by putting on a brave front and taking the responsibility for it; it would have been a weakness to put the blame elsewhere.

I didn’t argue the point with him. We had a more urgent problem.

“Let’s get you down to the water tank.”

“I can crawl that far.”

“You’ll cut your knees to ribbons on these rocks. Come on—give me a hand, put your arms up here.”

Pride made him reluctant but finally he gave in. He locked his wrists behind my neck and I put my good arm under his knees and picked him up that way and carried him slowly down the bed of the tributary. When we reached the floor of the chasm the going was easier and I hauled him to the edge of the rock pool and set him down gently.

Our approach scattered several small animals; I heard their feet skittering softly on the rocks. Ibran drank from a cupped hand. Then he threw his head back to glare at me.

He said, “You did well up to now. For a gringo.”

“You want me to go over to that mountain to prove I can do it?”

“I see no point in that. I can hardly stop you now. In any case”—he showed his teeth—“I have caught you, haven’t I?”

“I wouldn’t put it quite that way.”

He said, “How long, Car-dee?”

“How long what?”

“Before I can walk on this.”

“I’m not a doctor. Six weeks, two months—it’ll need to be splinted. I don’t know for sure.”

“We can’t live here that long. There isn’t enough water.”

“Maybe it’ll rain. Sometimes it rains in August.”

“If it rains, Car-dee, we will be killed in the flash flood.”

“True.”

“Then I think you should leave me here and go back and bring the horses.” He shrugged. “Or just leave me here and go on your way.” He said it with equanimity; I sensed no bitterness. The Apache are practical about such things.

I didn’t like the idea of leaving him to go for the horses. A water tank this size would attract predators—javelina in packs, coyotes, perhaps puma. Pinned down by his broken ankle and armed only with a knife Ibran wouldn’t stand much of a chance if he found himself between a mountain cat and the water.

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