“Can I have the first aid kit?” My backpack’s on the ground between Sam and Dante.
“I’ve got it out already,” Sam says. “I wanted to give you a minute with him. I’ll be right in. We’ll need to stitch him up. After we get the bullet wound cleaned out.”
“Where’s Calvin and Zane?” I’m relieved Calvin’s not injured, but at the same time there’s a growing anger in my gut. I’m going to examine it later when Easton’s feeling better. How could he not have told us about this village? How long did he think he could keep us from coming over here? Well, I guess a long time, since we’ve been here five months and no one but him has stepped foot near it.
“They’ve gone to refill the water bottles.” Dante’s holding on tightly to Penny’s leash. Her head spins in all directions at once. Dante drops to a crouch. “They’re just cats, Penny. Like Pepper. Pepper’s clan. I’m sure her mom and dad are here somewhere.” It doesn’t settle Penny. Dante scratches her behind her ears. “I’ll keep Penny out here. No need to add to the chaos.”
“Which way is the stream?” I ask, looking around.
Dante points away from where we came out of the old orchard. “They’ll be back soon, Sassy.”
I nod. “I’m not squeamish, but I’ve never done stitches before. Have you?”
“For a gunshot wound, no. But I’ve taped the hell out of my hands back in my day charter fishing days. And taken hooks out of guests from every part of the body,” Sam says.
I hug the kit to my stomach and make my way back to Easton. This side of the island’s a lot warmer. Or maybe it’s just that the rainy season is almost over. And I’m worried. So worried. “I’m back.”
I watch his chest rise and fall for a beat as I enter. He’s putting on a good show for me, trying to make me relieved that he’s not doing bad. But his labored breathing says it is acting—not reality. “I’ve got the kit and Sam.”
“Hey, Easton. I’m damn glad to see you.”
“Same to you, Captain.”
Now I know he’s putting on an act. None of the guys have been calling Sam “Captain.” Not since we’ve been together.
Sam kneels by Easton. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Uh, I thought Haley was going to... Do you have any experience?”
I crouch by Easton’s head. “More than I do, I’m sure. But I can do it if you want me to.” More than anything, I want Sam to be the one to clean the wound out. The idea of hurting Easton more sends a wave of fear over me.
“No, it’s okay, Haley. Sam can do it.” Easton drops his head. And I run my fingers through his soft brown hair, smoothing it away from his forehead. It’s getting so long. When we found the Rock Candy, we did a day of “salon and barber shop.”
But then the repairs on the boat took over, and with the endless rain, we were on our own hamster wheel of never-ending work. Like being back on the mainland. Or when Zane was trying to get the shelter built. It’s an easy cycle to slip into, I suppose.
Easton takes in a big breath, and I bring my hand back quickly. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, the opposite. Please keep petting me. It feels good. Don’t stop.”
Sam’s working in the kit. He’s found a sterile pad and has it open. Easton’s the one who stocked both of the kits. There are little bottles of vodka in them. Sam holds one up to the light. “How’s the pain right now?”
“It’s okay.”
“You don’t have to be a hero, Easton.” Sam’s voice drops. “You should have some of these, anyway. It will help with the swelling.” Sam holds out two tablets and a bottle of water we brought from camp in his gloved hands.
“Open up,” I say. I take the pills from Sam and put them in Easton’s mouth. I hold his head up while I help him sip some water. Then I go back to petting his hair. I’m doing the best I can to distract Easton from Sam. Sam’s unwinding the tourniquet of vines and removing Calvin’s shorts and the leaves. But he hisses when Sam pulls the last bit away.
“I’m going to wash it out with some alcohol. This is going to hurt like hell,” Sam says.
“It’s fine. I know it’s necessary. It’s already pink around the edges. And if my fever has anything to do with it, we need to beat down the impending infection.” Easton lays his head back on my legs. His skin is more than pink. It’s bright red with streaks going out from it.
“Hold his other shoulder, Haley,” Sam says.
My eyes flick to Sam’s. His forehead is furrowed. I’m doing my best to not look. I’m not squeamish. But bullet holes are a lot scarier than a foot ripped apart by coral. Or maybe it’s that Easton is the one with the most medical experience and I just trusted him.
“He’s going to be okay.” Sam nods at me. “Now hold on tight because this isn’t going to be pleasant.”
“I’m not going to flop around. Just do it.” Easton’s got his head cocked to his arm. “See the spot toward my elbow where it’s really pink? Make sure you get that section.” He nods to Sam and drops his head back to my legs. “Do it.” Easton’s eyes are tightly closed. There’s a tick in his jaw.
