Hedge of Thorns: Maneuvering
“If you’re in a mood to stay dry, and get what medical help I know how to give, get yourself through my front door.” I walk away, only glancing back when I hear scuffling behind me. Burdened under a pack and a cylindrical container, he’s crawling on his hands and one knee, dragging the other leg. If crawling was good enough for Hugh Glass, old Tumble can do it too.
I feed my fire, and take the oil lamp down from the mantle. Two or three more barrels of lamp oil would have been a wiser choice when mom made her lists. The match lights on the first scratch.
Tumble’s got both hands on my floor, and his breath is coming short. A couple of heaves and he’s through the door. So far, so good. Holding my pistol in one hand, I yank the bench from under the table.
“Get yourself on this.”
We pass each other as lightning ignites a tree on the next ridge to the north. Thank goodness we’re upwind by several miles. It’s someone else’s problem, at least for now, and I can slam my door on it.
“Quit panting like that, Tumble. Breathe as deeply as you can through your nose. Otherwise, you’re going to dehydrate yourself and catch pneumonia on top of it.”
He grunts, twists, and lands hard on the bench. The lamplight gleams off a chrome dome that’s developing an accessory lump. I bring up the pistol.
“How many do you see?”
“Just one, lady. Why don’t you put it away and tell me your name, or shall I call you Mercy?” Tumble drops his loaded pack and the cylinder to the floor.
“Go ahead.”
He raises his left hand, and the light catches a wide gold ring. “Okay, Mercy. I’m married.” His eyes give me a once-over. “No threat to you. I had no idea your place was here.” He coughs.
My mouth curls in a smirk. “You weren’t supposed to. Do you taste blood?” If he does, he’s in more trouble than I can remedy.
“Nope, dizzy though, and my knee is about to explode.”
I put the small stool nearby. “Shift onto this, and you can rest your leg on the long bench.”
Thunder rolls, longer than I’ve heard it in years, followed by an intense downpour. If it covers a large enough area, maybe it’ll douse that blaze.
Tumble completes the move.
Hedge of Thorns: Maneuvering is a segment of a serialized short story that will post on Fridays.
Check the menu on this blog for other, previously posted serialized stories, here.
Krystine Kercher
Heidi Kortman
Ruth
Heidi Kortman