Dzar-Ghan (Alien Barbarians of Vandruk #3)

17. Chapter 17

It didn’t take me long to realize that Dzar-Ghan had lost consciousness. I just didn’t know why. Carefully, holding on tight to the tree, I wiggled my way down to where Dzar-Ghan’s grip was slowly loosening on the log. I grabbed hold of one of the backpacks and made sure his head remained above water, but that was all I could do until the current finally released us when the newly formed river ran itself out into a lake.

Exhausted and tired beyond anything, I let go of the log and, holding on to Dzar-Ghan with one hand, I swam us to the shore. I was nearly at the last of my strength when I pulled him and myself onto land. I lay on my back, panting for several minutes while rain mercilessly pounded down on us. It seemed to have lessened, but it was still strong enough to pound me like a meat crusher, with the spikey side out.

Sputtering, I managed to get on all fours and crawl over to Dzar-Ghan, whose normally ochre-reddish skin was more of a light salmon color.

“Dzar-Ghan?” I called. “Dzar-Ghan, can you hear me?”

A soft moan escaped his lips, so soft I might have missed it under the onslaught of noise from the rushing river nearby, the rain, and the occasional thunder, but I had been listening for it and had my ear pressed close to his mouth. Hot relief flooded me when I heard the groan. He was still alive.

I clutched my backpack and crawled around him, trying to figure out where he was injured. First, I palpated his skull, thinking something might have hit him in the head, but then I remembered the buffalo-like animal and checked his arms and side. That’s when I found the large gash, deep and ugly. I stared down flesh and muscle tissue I shouldn’t be able to see. I only had very basic first aid skills, but I knew this wound had to be disinfected—with all the dirt in the water, it would be a miracle if he didn’t get an infection—did aliens get infections?—disinfected, cleaned, and sewed up as quickly as possible.

I had lost one of my contacts in the water, but thankfully, I had packed a good amount of replacements. Praying I didn’t add a load of bacteria into my eye, I popped a new one in without washing my hands. There wasn’t much time because Dzar-Ghan’s wound was barely trickling blood now. Which would have been good had I not been worried about him bleeding out.

I found the right backpack and pulled out the first aid kit, which, thankfully, had been better equipped than just your basic kit normally was. I pushed a few pregnancy tests—pregnancy tests? Really?—out of the way until I found a squirt bottle filled with alcohol.

“This is gonna burn,” I warned the unconscious Dzar-Ghan, turning my head to the side, not wanting to look but needing to see what I was doing. Then I dabbed with a stack of gauze against his raw skin while a shudder moved through my body. All the while, the rain was still pouring down on us and into his wound. Shit.

I emptied one of the backpacks, found a few sticks, and created a flimsy, temporary tent over his wound. I knew I needed to work fast before the contraption collapsed on us, but at least it kept his wound dry for the moment.

I blinked rain from my eyes and added a generous amount of antibiotic ointment into the gash before I pressed his flesh together. Swallowing hard, I began to apply the skin glue. Since nothing metallic survived Vandruk’s atmosphere, the first aid kit didn’t contain any needles or staple guns. I had no idea what I was doing or how long I was supposed to hold his flesh together after applying the glue, but I figured it would be smarter to err on the side of too long at least until my makeshift tent collapsed. Somehow, I managed to keep it from falling on him and his wound, which was sealed for now, even though rain was once again getting him all wet.

I rebuilt the tent as best as I could and dried out his injury one more time. Seconds later, I discovered that the saying about dead weight was true. It was hard lifting him off the ground far enough and even harder to wind the gauze around him. But I wanted the cut to be covered and held together.

From another backpack, I pulled out a set of my waterproof pants and looped them around the gauze, hoping it would be enough to keep the rain out. Then I sat back and blinked against the merciless torrent of rain. I was panting and my heart was beating in an unhealthy staccato. I was tired, wet, miserable, worried, cold, hungry, and exhausted. Those were the primary concerns that came to my mind right then. I was sure there were others. One in particular. A small giggle rose up in my chest. Small at first, it grew until it was loud enough to drown out the rain. Nothing about the situation was funny. Besides, it surely meant my death, and I wasn’t too sure how I would handle Dzar-Ghan’s demise should the unthinkable happen. No, that wasn’t funny at all. What was funny was that me, the queen of germaphobes, had just stuck my fingers in alien blood, cleaned and bandaged a wound. Back on Earth, I had refused to take care of an ex-boyfriend when he had a cold. I hadn’t even considered my actions before caring for him. I craned my neck and held my face straight into the deluge coming from the heavens. The rain stung my skin, but I didn’t recoil. Somehow it felt freeing. Somehow I felt free or free-er. I was doing things that were way out of my comfort zone, and I was beginning to believe I could do it.

A shiver moved through me and I realized we couldn’t stay here at the shore of the lake. I had been able to pull Dzar-Ghan out of the water far enough so that only his boots got hit by an occasional wave. I had no idea how long the torrent would last or how much higher the water level in the lake would rise. Dzar-Ghan had lost an ungodly amount of blood and needed a dry, possibly warm spot so he wouldn’t catch his death on top of the injury. Could aliens get a cold?

Actually, that was probably the least of my worries for now, but my brain worked to distract me so I wouldn’t fall into a heaping, weeping mess.

There was no way for me to carry Dzar-Ghan. I was reluctant to pull him by his arms, afraid it would reopen his wound. Pulling him by his feet was probably not much better, but I preferred that idea to the first.

Adrenaline was still pounding in my veins, enough to drag Dzar-Ghan up the sloping shore to where more bushes and trees grew. Here, the rain wasn’t quite as bad, but it was still too wet for my taste. I just didn’t have the energy to pull him much farther. Worried I might pass out from exhaustion, I needed to work quickly.

The leaves of the trees had proven themselves quite sturdy. If I could get one or two cut for us, it would make a great shelter/tent/blanket. Dzar-Ghan was still wearing his sword, and thankfully it wasn’t as heavy as it looked. Still, I doubted my ability to climb with it in my hand up a tree and cut a leaf, or two, without slicing or killing myself.

I looked around one more time, hoping to find a place naturally sheltered by the leaves, but the trees were too skinny, the leaves too high up. Shit. I would have to do this.

With the sword, which was extremely sharp, I cut the shoulder straps of one backpack and made a makeshift sling so I could carry the sword by my hip. I also cut my arm shallowly, but that was the least of my concerns.

“You owe me,” I told the unconscious Dzar-Ghan with a frown before I tackled climbing another tree. It was wet and too slippery to get up as the rain kept on coming. Frustrated, I kicked a rock, but that didn’t do me any good.

Finally, more miserable than I remembered ever being, I sat down next to Dzar-Ghan, put his lifeless arm around me, and snuggled against his chest, listening to the weak pumping of his heart. I wished I knew more about medicine; there had to be something I could do for him, but I had no clue what. All my life, I had relied on computers and tablets to provide answers to my questions. Not here, though. Not now. Fuck!

Somewhere in my mind, I acknowledged that I had cursed again but was too tired to think about it. Without a clue what I could do, I closed my eyes and prayed Dzar-Ghan wouldn’t die on me while I slept.