Bonds

by Susan Copperfield

  Somehow, someone had disabled the tracking in such a way that Kevin couldn’t fix it without taking the phone to a computer with the right software installed—software that was installed in the command center serving Maine’s RPS.

  While he fiddled with her phone trying to find some way to bring the tracking back to life, I worked on his arm, starting with enough local anesthetic to take the edge off. It wouldn’t stop him from screaming when I set the bone, but it would help—a little.

  I needed to get together with Melody and give them a list of the best drugs. To my relief, there was an entire month’s supply of four different antibiotics.

  Kevin would need them unless Melody could address it with her magic, and the less magic any of us used, the better off we’d be. In a survival situation, magic became a double-edged sword. It took energy to use magic, energy I’d need to forage and hunt. The survival kit came with some rations, including a ten pound bag of cat food, but it wouldn’t be enough to sustain three people for more than a week, especially if we had to exert ourselves. As I had no real idea how much our cats would consume, I could only hope that they appreciated raw meat and fish.

  Given time and some work, I could provide them with both.

  Turning my attention back to more immediate concerns, I did one final check of my work before deciding I had no reason to delay the next phase of treatment. “All right, Kevin. Time to get this show on the road. This is going to hurt like hell. Melody? Can you monitor him while I do this?”

  “I started monitoring him when you did the first injection. I’ve been keeping an eye on his shock symptoms and lessening chances of complications.”

  “Can you adjust blood flow around his arm temporarily while I set this?”

  “Easily. You’ll have a short window to work with or he risks tissue death.”

  I eyed the catastrophic break, willing to bet there was already substantial tissue death due to trauma, but it was Kevin who replied, “I think we’re beyond that stage, Your Highness.”

  “Shush, Kevin.” The princess shot the RPS agent a glare, and the man forced a pained grin.

  While I believed it to be impossible to get a perfect reset of the bone in our situation, I took a steadying breath and went to work. A fast, clean set would minimize his chance of impairment later. Either Melody helped with her magic to make certain I got the bone aimed the right way or I got really lucky, but I got the job done on the first try. Without waiting for Kevin to stop howling over my brutal assault of his broken arm, I lashed the splint in place so he wouldn’t damage his arm further. As soon as I secured the final strap, Melody placed her hands over the break. Within moments, the sheen of sweat marked her brow.

  “The bone’s in place,” she reported. “Damn, Jack. Are you sure you’re not a bone medic? As far as I can tell, as long as he doesn’t do something stupid, it should set in place. I don’t think our trauma medics could do a better job in the hospital.”

  I’d accept that as a compliment, but I couldn’t help but get in a light jab at the same time. “Thank you. I’d like to see one of your baseball players do that,” I muttered, leaving her to tend Kevin and handle the stitching while I explored the first aid kit. I rubbed my hands together and eyed the supply of pain killers. “How are you feeling, Kevin?”

  “Like I never want to meet you armed with a splint in a dark alley.”

  Well, as the RPS agent still had a sense of humor, I assumed he wouldn’t drop dead on me yet. I forced a chuckle despite wanting to curse at our general situation. “You all right to take NSAIDs? It seems the survival kit providers felt you shouldn’t have morphine or any of the nicer drugs today.”

  “I have never been so wrong in my life preparing that kit. I should’ve listened when someone asked if I was sure I should go light on the painkillers.”

  “Lesson learned, painfully.” I sighed, and of my options, the ketorolac tromethamine would pack the most punch to get him through the initial trauma. “Any reason I shouldn’t give him ketorolac, Melody? Any evidence of ulcers or other issues?”

  “I’ll monitor him, but dose lightly. Kevin can handle a little pain.”

  “Little?” Kevin and I chorused, staring at the princess as though she’d lost her mind.

  She scowled. “You two planned that, didn’t you?”

  “No, I just know the shit I injected into his arm is just that: shit. Next time, I pack the survival gear, and the RPS agents will quietly watch and learn. Yes, it’s a theft risk. The RPS should be equipped to prevent theft and monitor the drugs kept in the kits. But in an event of a plane crash and broken arm, you don’t want the shit drugs.”

  “Lesson has definitely been learned,” Kevin said through clenched teeth. “How good is this ketorolac?”

  “Not as good as you want, but it’s not too bad.” I considered the dosage, and as Melody wanted it light, I went for a 10mg tablet, hoping that would be enough to take the edge off. “Unfortunately, the packers of this kit didn’t give me an injectable option for this, and this drug’s better as follow-up post a round of the injected form. Thoughts, Melody?”

  “Something is better than nothing.”

  Considering the kit’s other options only included acetaminophen and ibuprofen, I hoped the ketorolac would do the job enough to get him through the next few hours with some help from Melody’s magic. “Do what you can to mitigate the pain long-term. I’m going to scout for a better spot for us.” I pointed at the smoking plane. “That could very easily attract the wrong sort of attention, and I’d rather get a look at what’s coming.”

  To my disappointment, either thanks to the water I’d dumped on the site or the energetic nature of the fire, the plane had gone from billowing to lightly smoking. I gave it a few hours before it would no longer be useful as a beacon for anyone to use. Until I had a chance to talk to Kevin about the risks of using a smoke signal to draw attention, I’d worry about the shelter portion of surviving. Rising to my feet, I stretched and eyed the surrounding lake. The lake itself would provide water; the emergency kit had several methods of sanitizing water, so I wouldn’t have to waste magic needlessly, so the site I picked would either need to be near the lake or off a feeder stream or river.

  From my position, I couldn’t tell if there was a feeder stream or river nearby. The only way for me to find out was to go have a look for myself, and armed with the kit’s compass and a hatchet, I went for a walk.

  Dumb luck had dumped us in a good spot for long-term survival. Between a natural clay deposit along the shore, a lake teeming with life, a healthy forest with plenty of deadfall, and naturally clean water, I was able to eliminate most of the challenges until the temperature dived and fall deepened to winter.

  I expected we had three weeks at most before the weather started doing scary things that would make surviving more of a challenge.

  Returning to Melody and Kevin, I pointed in the general direction of a spot I liked, which had sufficient room for a tent, natural coverage, and easy access to the lake. “It’s a bit of a hike, but I’ve found a decent place for us to set up shop. Kevin, what do you think is our best bet at this point?”

  “Without knowing who in the RPS betrayed Melody, we should find civilization on our own. I’ll contact Montana for assistance once I can reach a phone. My phone was butchered, too.”

  That left us with my phone, which I’d forgotten about. I dug it out and offered it to Kevin. “Think mine’ll work if we get signal?”

  Kevin’s brows furrowed, and with his uninjured arm, he began doing a check of the phone. “Actually, yes. Your phone hasn’t been tampered with. Where did you get it?”

  I pointed at Melody. “She gave it to me so I could take pictures.”

  “I called in a favor and asked a friend to pick up a decent phone in the morning before the game.”

  “Who did you ask?”

  “Devon.”

  Kevin grunted. “That’ll work. He’s outside of the RPS, so the RPS wouldn’t have access to th
e number, device, or SIM chip. How’s the charge on it, Jack?”

  “Thirty percent,” I reported. “I may have taken a few too many cat photos.”

  “There’s a solar charger in the kit with cables for the common devices. Once we’re moved, charge your phone, turn it off, and seal it in an airtight bag.”

  “Why do you want me to turn it off?”

  “If someone in the RPS finds out from Devon what the number is, they might try to track the phone. Let’s not give the insider an easy way to reach us. The only people I want finding us right now are from Montana.”

  “Montana is not going to be happy about this.”

  Kevin snorted, and with my help, he got to his feet. Once standing, I dug through the kit until I found a sling and gingerly secured his arm to his chest. “Thanks, Jack.”

  “Anytime. Watch your footing. It’s better to go slow than have you fall right now. It’s a bit of a hike, but once we’re there, we can set up for the night, and I’ll make a game plan. Do your phones have maps?”

  “Yes,” Kevin replied, and he handed me his phone. “I’ve removed the SIM cards in case the insiders attempt to reactivate the devices. I have a full set of maps for the Royal States loaded into my phone.”

  “Did you pack a map into the survival kit?”

  “It didn’t occur to me a map would be useful.”

  “Maps are always useful, but you included a compass, a hatchet, and the important basics, so I’ll give you a passing grade this time. Melody, can you wrangle both cats? Are they okay?”

  “They are, but I’ll have to be careful with Mr. Asshole. I only have a limited supply of his medicine, and he’s diabetic.”

  “There’s insulin in the kit,” Kevin reported. “Just dose appropriately. Human-grade insulin should work, shouldn’t it?”

  “We’ll find out. I never actually checked if cat insulin is the same as human insulin before. I’ve never needed to use human insulin on my cat!”

  Damn it. I had no idea how I’d keep an old, sick cat alive in a survival situation. “How long do you have for his supply?”

  “I brought two weeks with me. Kevin told me to toss our bags away from the plane while you were getting the kit, so I did that. While you were scouting, I retrieved them.” Melody pointed at the pile of packs near the survival kit. “I have two weeks of his special food and medicines, Sparrow has her food for two weeks, and then we have the generic food in the bag. The generic isn’t as good for him as his special food, but with some magic, I can help him some.”

  “I’ll do my best to find a town with a vet within two weeks,” I promised, hoping I could keep my word for her cat’s sake. “As long as they are leashed and harnessed and stay near the camp, they should be safe enough, and I’ll make sure to catch enough food for them, too.”

  “Raw food is good for Mr. Asshole.”

  “Then Mr. Asshole shall enjoy as much raw food as he is able. It’ll just mean I have to hunt. Once we’re at the camp spot, I’ll do a full inventory of the kit.”

  “There’s a collapsible bow in the kit, a set of twenty-four arrows, a fletching kit, several hunting knives, and a hunting rifle with ammunition,” Kevin said.

  No wonder the kit weighed so damned much. “You score full points for that.”

  “I fucked up the medical supplies, though.”

  “I’m giving you a passing grade on the medical supplies because you have the truly important stuff in there, including antibiotics.” I eyed the packs, resigned to either needing to fashion a crude sled or make several trips. “How much do you think you can carry, Melody?”

  “One pack and the cats,” she replied. “But I can carry the heavy one.”

  Kevin snorted. “There’s nothing wrong with my shoulders or back, so give me a light pack.”

  That left me with the supply kit and a mid-weight pack. Well, the princess had wanted me to get exercise. I’d be getting too much exercise, but it beat having to make an extra trip. “That’s a plan, then. Once we’re set up, we’ll figure out where to go from here.”

  I just hoped we weren’t taking a short trip straight to another disaster.

  Chapter Fifteen

  In addition to baseball, Princess Melody of Maine liked camping, and I doubted a more perfect woman existed. She took to the hustle and bustle of setting up the campsite with grace, followed directions, and didn’t complain once, not even when I made her stand around and hold tools for me while I did the sort of work I didn’t have time to teach her.

  She even came packaged able to fillet fish, which made dinner an easy problem to solve.

  Using my waveweaving magic to secure dinner rather than fishing for it counted as cheating, but I was too tired, sore, and impatient to deal with setting up a rod and doing it the old-fashioned way. The lake had a healthy population of fish, and initially, I had zero idea what the hell leviathan I’d dredged up, but according to Melody’s squeal of delight, I’d brought her a prized treasure.

  The huge fish, with a long body and an elongated mouth with sharp, nasty teeth, looked ready to eat one of our cats in a single bite. I pointed at it, where it flopped on the shore, safely away from the water so it wouldn’t escape. “I have no idea what that thing is, but it’s absolutely terrifying.”

  “That would be a musky, sir, and that is good eating.” Melody clapped her hands, dug through the survival kit, got out the whetstone and the biggest knife we had, and sharpened it with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I’ve fished for these before, and they’re delicious grilled. Make fire happen, Jack!”

  With zero care the fish could probably bite her and do some serious damage, the princess dove into the fray. With stunning efficiency, she dispatched dinner and went to work preparing it for cooking. As I wasn’t about to come between her, the knife she wielded with frightening skill, and her dinner, I did as told, gathering enough deadfall to start a fire so one of us could cook it. Thanks to a good flint and steel and a little magic to remove the water from the wood, I had a fire started within minutes.

  I cleaned the frying pan with a mixture of my magic and lake water, keeping an eye on the princess while she layered fish meat onto one of the metal plates that’d come in the survival kit. “Think she’ll care we don’t have a whole lot of things to flavor fish with?”

  “We have some salt, and we have the rack for grilling. There’s even a fry pan, but you’re stuck if you want oil or butter. Oils and butter do not belong in survival kits. I may have wasted some space in the kit on dry herbs.”

  “Really, Kevin? Dried herbs?”

  “I was told you would disapprove of my additions.”

  “I’m willing to forgive you if there’s sage or rosemary.”

  “There’s both.”

  “All is forgiven,” I announced. I dragged the kit closer to him. “Don’t move your injured arm, but you can start sorting through this mess. Do an inventory so I can figure out what we really need to bring with us when we move. The tent definitely comes with us.” Kevin had gotten the tent right; it weighed in at less than five pounds, I figured it’d do a decent job even in colder weather, and it fit all three of us plus our packs with some room to spare. “We will need to leave what isn’t mandatory, as this is a lot of weight to haul around in our situation. The knives, hatchet, first aid kit, and basic cooking kit are mandatory.”

  Kevin grunted, and he picked out the items I requested, laying them out on one of the silvery thermal blankets I’d found folded in the bottom of the kit while searching for basic supplies to set up the tent. “We have four sleeping pads, one sleeping bag, and four thermal blankets.”

  I questioned the numbers and regretted we only had one actual sleeping bag, but I figured we could make do with the thermal blankets. “Size of the sleeping bag?”

  “Oversized. It can fit two.”

  That might work with the thermal blankets if the weather didn’t get too cold. I picked up the sleeping pad and rolled it, nodding my satisfaction over its size. They’d fit
in the packs, even if we had to dump other non-necessary supplies.

  Warmth mattered, especially with the risk of autumn and early snow around the corner.

  I needed to have a long talk with Kevin about the kit later, and I would include lessons on how backpacks worked and why carting the heavy, bulky case wasn’t feasible. I’d have to make it work since I hadn’t seen anything as convenient as a proper pack in the container.

  I’d have to jury-rig a pack using one of the thermal blankets, sticks, and vines. In good news, our neck of the woods had vines in plenty, some of which were grapes and would do the job better than nicely. “How is our string and rope?”

  “There’s a roll of twine and fifty feet of nylon.”

  That would make creating a pack easier. “Water bottles?”

  “Collapsible bags. They hold three gallons.”

  With my talent, the bags would suffice between water sources—and store water I manifested.

  Melody skipped over with her plate of fish, grinning at me as she presented. “This princess is not squeamish.”

  “Considering you cut people open for a living and piece them together, I had no doubts you could handle a fish.” I took the plate, looking over the cuts. “You took care of the fish with admirable finesse, too.”

  Claiming one of the fillets for the cats, I set it on the plate and handed it back to her. “Make sure there’s no bones and give them to the cats to make up for their day?”

  “Mr. Asshole will love this, and I bet Sparrow will, too!”

  “Once you’re done with that, you get to throw the fish guts and stuff into the lake. I recommend you do it over there.” I pointed where a series of rocks jutted into the water. “Other fish can eat it, and it’ll keep predators from being too interested in what we’re doing.”

  “Will do.” She hurried off to do as asked, which left me with the task of cooking the fish. Since I lacked oil and didn’t have the time or inclination to press oil from the fish remains, I’d have to be extra careful cooking it.