Then Clark was there. He lifted her, shifting his hold when she shuddered. He cradled her against his chest examining the rest of her as her left leg lay limply over his wrist. Laylea buried her nose in his armpit, ashamed of her cries. Her lungs pulsed with her slowing heartbeat but she couldn’t draw in a full breath.
Clark paced as he palpated every inch of her body.
Hardknock lay on the ground with the bald man holding one arm doubled up behind his back. A trickle of blood shone on the craggy hermit’s face. He’d fallen on the very rock he’d thrown at Laylea. The bald man yanked the body backwards to pull Hardknock’s hand from his gun. As soon as the fingers uncurled in the dirt, the old man Ahab dashed in. He flipped the safety and stowed the gun in his own waistband.
“Captain. How’s the dog, Captain?” Donald approached Clark.
Minnie holding a bawling Mickey, hung back. Most of Minnie’s face was buried in her daughter’s blond hair but Laylea heard her humming the same tune Clark had sung with Red in the rocky clearing. She focused on that sound while Clark ran his fingers lightly along her throbbing hip.
Clark finished examining the puppy before he answered. “He missed. But he hurt her with the kick.”
Donald leaned in to Clark’s ear, “Captain, LG didn’t take—”
Clark cut him off. “You all go back to your tent. Mickey, LG is fine. We’ll come see you in a bit.” He turned away from them, still cradling Laylea. “Jay. The man has been subdued and disarmed.”
“You’re bleeding.” Donald didn’t leave. “Captain, your leg is bleeding.”
“Yeah, the ricochet. It’s not bad. Don’t worry about it.”
Minnie walked past the men in a daze, approaching the two hermits on the ground.
Clark kept both hands on Laylea. His voice was enough to stop the woman. “You’ve got Mickey there.”
The woman turned. She caught Clark’s eyes as she passed, before she buried her face again in her daughter’s hair. Donald followed his wife away from the conflict.
Clark faced Hardknock. “Let the man up, Jay.”
The bald man pushed Hardknock’s arm further up his back, “Do you promise to control yourself?”
“I don’t promise nothing, Jarhead.”
“There’s gonna come a time you need me again, Tracy Hardwick. You remember this.” Jay loosened his grip and backed up so he was out of reach when enough feeling came back that Hardknock was able to move his arm.
Ahab reached out a hand to help Hardknock up. The hermit knocked it away. He pushed himself up to his knees and awkwardly to his feet, brushing grass from his filthy jeans.
Still picking twigs from his flannel shirt, he said, “Give me the dog.”
Clark picked up the book. “The dog is my cargo, same as your book. I have promised to deliver it safe.”
“You didn’t deliver my book safe.”
“If you’ll take it, I think you’ll see it’s come to no harm.” Clark held it out to the man.
Ahab and Jay stayed close on the hermit’s heels as Hardknock stalked to Clark. He knocked the book away. “Give me the dog and we’ll call it even.”
Jay chuckled. “Hardnose—”
“Hardknock.”
“You haven’t paid him yet. You’re nowhere close to even.” The bald man picked up the book and flipped through the pages. “Book is fine. Unless you’re afraid of a little dog slobber. Afraid of a little dog slobber, Hardnose?”
“Pay the Captain. Take your book. And let’s go eat. No harm, no foul, eh, Mr. Hardknock?” Ahab put his hand on the man’s shoulder and Jay had to put Hardknock on the ground again to keep him from breaking it.
Clark knelt. “There are words Jay could use.” He murmured so quietly that only Hardknock, Jay, and Laylea could hear but the hermit’s head snapped up like he’d been slapped. “But I’d rather we behave like free men.”
“You’re one too.” It was an accusation, not a question.
Clark barely nodded.
“He had no right to wake us up.”
Clark glanced at Jay who gazed off at the mountain peaks. They both knew they’d felt the same way at times.
“Let the man up, Jay.” Clark recovered the book and slid it in his back pocket. “We’ve got to end this, gentlemen.”
Jay helped Hardknock stand this time, keeping a hold on his arm.
“Let him go, Jay.”
“Don’t feel comfortable with that, Captain. And no offense, but these are my woods.”
“Okay, Jay. I can see your point. Hardknock, I have delivered the goods you requested, including the book. Are you going to pay me?”
Hardknock stopped struggling. “We were all chosen because of who we are. And they didn’t pick any tree hugging dog lovers.” His eyes glowed. “I’ll pay you if you kill it.”
Clark sighed. He looked down at little Laylea trying her best not to whimper. She could feel her leg now and her hip screamed. The dad kissed her forehead. “That’s your choice, Hardknock.” He turned to Ahab who had been joined by Flower’s mother, Feranda. “Could one of you hold LG here while I put Hardknock’s supplies back into my plane?”
“You can’t take them back!” Hardknock sprang at Clark but Jay was still holding his arm.
Clark didn’t respond. He handed Laylea to Ahab and gathered up a few of the disputed items. He took them over to the plane as Hardknock struggled.
“He can’t do that!”
Jay held tight. “Yes he can.”
“Mr. Hardknock,” said Ahab, “The captain paid for all of this. He paid for the plane and the gas to transport it here. You have not paid him. So the items still belong to him.”
“Except the chili,” Jay put in. “The chili is a gift.”
“I have medicine in the bundle.”
“No Mr. Hardknock,” corrected Ahab, “the captain has medicine in that bundle. You have what you’ve paid for.”
“Jay.” Redheaded Maggie sidled into the conversation. Her voice shook. “Jay, would you mind escorting Mr. Hardknock away from camp? He’s not welcome.”
“It’s not for you to say.” Hardknock was momentarily distracted from watching Clark unlock the plane.
“You’re not welcome.” Ahab backed her up. “My vote is he goes.”
Flower’s mother held a shotgun at her side. “I don’t want you here.”
“I don’t mind if you come back when you’ve calmed down but you’re awfully worked up right now and maybe that’s why you choose to live alone but you really shouldn’t be around people right now and I don’t feel safe with you here.” Maggie added. “Minnie and Donald clearly don’t want you here.”
“It’s unanimous then.” Jay pushed Hardknock away.
Clark came back over the group. He stepped in front of Hardknock and put a bottle in the man's coat pocket. “You have to learn control. And that means you can’t kill a puppy because it ran off with your book.”
Hardknock didn’t look in Clark’s eyes. He avoided every face around him. His gaze settled on Laylea trembling in Ahab’s arms. “Give me the book. I’ll pay you.”
Clark took the book out of his pocket. “If you pay me, I’ll give you everything.”
“Can’t afford everything.”
There was silence as everyone assessed the fact that Hardknock had tried to kill the puppy to distract them from the fact that he couldn’t pay. Maggie spoke up first.
“I can buy some of his things if you’ll take more herbs or another blanket. He can buy them from us with some meat later in the season.”
“We can do the same if you’ve got need of more molasses,” Feranda added.
Mickey pulled on Clark’s pant leg, “I make bird feederth out of pine coneth.”
Donald ran in. He scooped the girl up and backed away. “We’ll help in any way we can.”
So Hardknock’s supplies were brought out of the plane again and divvied among the families who offered to pay for them. Hardknock paid for the book, his medicine, and despite objectio
ns, a fifth of whiskey. He was escorted far into the forest by Jay, Feranda, and Ahab. They had a conversation with him before sending him on his way.
Clark, Laylea securely back in his own arms, helped Mickey drag Minnie out of their tent to join the others around Bela’s campfire.
Bela had the most healing skill of any at the powwow. He convinced her to step away from her precious stew by promising to bring paprika on his next run free of charge. Flower was given the chef’s spoon and strict instructions. Bela, her back not allowing may other positions, examined the pup while Clark held her right there in the middle of the gathering.
“What I can’t understand,” Maggie was saying to Minnie, “is why the dog ran off with it. What does a dog want with a book?”
“Isn’t it usually Mickey who steals everyone’s books?” Flower asked.
“Stir,” Bela instructed, not taking her eyes off of the dog in question.
Flower pulled a face but kept her mouth shut.
Donald spoke quietly, “Mickey did take it from Hardknock’s pile. LG took it from Mickey. I’m sorry, Captain. We were going to return it but we turned around and she’d taken it. I don’t know why a dog would play with a book like that.”
“You thed the book belonged to Mithter Angry,” Mickey reasoned, also not taking her eyes off of Laylea. “He boilth kidth for breakfatht. But Elgy ithn’t a kid. Can you make her better, Bela?”
Bela took Laylea from Clark. She resettled her with one of the matching grandsons, Cockroach. He sat in a low chair and Bela showed him how to hold the dog with her left side out, supporting her paws. “Ven aqui, Mickey.” She took the icepack Feranda fetched from their tents and squeezed it cold. “Fold your blankie in half and lay it over her hip there.”
“Gently, Kayl… Mickey.”
“I know, Mommy. Eathy.”
Bela laid the icepack on Laylea’s hip and taught Mickey how to hold it so the puppy’s tiny body didn’t have to take all the weight. Mickey was told to keep an eye on Laylea and if it looked like the pain was getting worse, she should tell Cockroach who couldn’t see the dog’s face.
“Serve up the stew. The warriors have returned victorious!” Jay pounded a wooden bowl on his chest.
“Is it ready, Bela?” Flower lifted the ladle to her grandmother.
Everybody watched as Bela took a sip. “Perfecto. But only give the warrior a small bowl.” She patted Jay’s rock solid abs. “He wants to keep his girlish figure.”
Jay danced with Bela as Flower filled bowls. Maggie sliced a loaf of fresh bread and served it from a low table near the fire. When Bela shoved him away to get his food, Jay settled beside Clark. Slowly conversations started up around the fire; some that had been interrupted by Clark and Laylea’s arrival, some age-old arguments that were renewed each of the rare times the families met.
Jay spoke quietly with Clark. “He knows you now.”
“That was my choice. Yours was to let him live.”
“I will not kill another soul today.”
“You give us all a sleep word, don’t you?”
“Well, Sher gave you yours as she gave me mine. But when you take away free will, you take a man’s life. I’ll never use the words.” Jay whispered the oath and then spoke up as Ahab joined them. “You’re a peacemaker, Captain. You didn’t need to give him his order.”
Clark smiled gently. “Peace is found, not made. And some of Hardknock’s peace is found in his medicine.”
“The whiskey?” Ahab asked.
“No,” Bela responded from her special chair. “The pills. The Captain may have saved our lives with his peacemaking. Men can go loco in the woods. Do crazy things.”
“Especially if he started out crazy before he got to the woods.” Donald turned to Clark, “Bipolar? Is that what the drugs are for?”
“I won’t share his story any more than I would share yours, Donald.”
“You don’t know my story, Captain.”
“I know you have three nephews,” Clark shot back, “and a rich, stingy Scottish uncle.”
The crowd around the fire laughed.
“And he’s married to a mouse!” Ahab roared.
Minnie tossed a slice of bread to the old man, “What makes you think we’re married?”
“Ohhhh!” General pandemonium broke out.
Clark gazed past the fire to where Flower had joined the kids around Laylea. No patient had ever been better attended. But the flames reflected in the puppy’s glazed eyes showed her pain. She lay more still then he’d ever seen her awake.
Jay saw. “You really love your dog, don’t you, Captain?”
“To be honest with you, Jay, I didn’t know she was my dog until he tried to take her away from me.” He looked off into the trees. “He needed a night of socializing.”
Jay laughed. “He wasn’t gonna stay, Captain. You didn’t see us break down a tent for him, did you? Don’t worry, he’s got spring cleaning chili for dinner.” Jay elbowed Clark, laughing at his hangdog expression. He too gazed off in the direction Hardknock had been escorted. “Whatever Sheriff expects that book to do for him, I hope it works quick magic.” He pulled a flask from his thigh pocket and sipped. Clark turned it down when he offered it to his oldest remembered friend. “What book was it anyway?”
Clark laughed. “James Thurber. The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.”
Jay sipped again and tucked the flask away. “Why?”
“You’re asking me? You’ve known her longer.”
Jay laughed long and hard at that. Then he called over, “Maggie. Do you have your guitar?”
She flipped around to show them the backpacking guitar strung on her back. “Right here. With new strings thanks to the captain.”
Jay stood. He stomped on the ground in a rhythm that woke Laylea from her doze. Minnie joined in, clapping an opposing rhythm. Maggie added block chords and after a moment Feranda sang out the tune Laylea had been hearing over and over.
I will
not kill
Another soul today.
Their life is in my hands and I will not throw it away.
The twin boys, mindful of Laylea, sang out a breakdown of the first four notes. They wove in and out of each other until they settled into a pair of rhythms that set a bass line for Donald to join Feranda, harmonizing on a repeat of the verse. Ahab, his boys, and Flower all joined in on the melody, singing quietly beneath Feranda’s rich alto.
Clark stood, singing along. He murmured to Jay, “Feranda is the only Conditioned Force soldier singing.”
“I’m singing,” he replied. “You’re singing.”
“I never stop singing it,” Clark said.
“Don’t worry. Minnie likes the second verse.”
Clark looked at him. “Second verse?”
Jay laughed. “Feranda wrote a second verse.”
Right then, as everyone drifted off on the last note of away, Minnie, her blond hair hanging loose in her face, opened her mouth and wailed. She hollered a wordless descant over the rhythm and bass laid down around her. Bela joined in the clapping. Ahab called out a joyful ululation and Minnie surfed off of that into the second verse.
I find
my mind
By listening to my heart
Together they will keep my soul from fracturing apart
Everyone joined in as they repeated the second verse adding variations until Ahab ended the song with a final cry.
The hermits called out songs they wanted. Maggie played. When it got late, the kids were sent to bed and Maggie set down her guitar to take over icing Laylea’s hip while Jay helped Clark set up his one man tent.
When Bela got tired, she mixed some of the turmeric Clark had just delivered into Laylea’s kibble and softened it with broth she saved from her stew. The turmeric, she said, was anti-inflammatory and should help if the puppy could keep it down. She wished him luck and shuffled off into her tent. Feranda quietly said her good nights and followed the old woman who had taken her in and treated h
er like a daughter.
Laylea didn’t want to eat. Clark dipped two fingers into the mush and encouraged her to lick it from his hand. She lapped up two bowlfuls of water while Clark tried to scrub the yellow from his fingernails.
The powwow broke up a short while later when Ahab fell asleep in his chair. Clark took Laylea from Maggie’s lap and as soon as she was cuddled against his chest, the little dog finally shut her eyes. She didn’t wake as he said good night to everyone. Jay escorted them to the tent, carrying a supply of gel packs donated by Bela and himself for icing Laylea’s hip in the night. He had to insist Clark take them.
Clark slept uneasily. He tried to lay Laylea in her blue bed, but the puppy woke. She stared at him with her big, glassy eyes until he lifted her into the sleeping bag with him. He slept fearful of crushing her. Several times throughout the night, he woke to Laylea staring at him. When his eyes opened, she’d paw at him and whimper quietly. He’d break an ice pack and hold it on her hip, feeling guilty that he’d allowed her to get hurt, feeling guilty that he was depleting the hermits’ first aid supplies.
Feranda had assured him that Bela had an ice-pit at their compound that did a much better job of keeping perishables and providing ice for the kids’ many injuries. Jay told him he knew where the compound was so he could deliver more any time Clark could fly out for a quick drop. But still, Clark wrestled with the reversal of roles. He was supposed to take care of the hermits.
Going to bed he’d been hopeful that Laylea would feel better after a good night’s sleep. It became clear to him, long before dawn that she needed more than rest. It took until after dawn, until after breakfast and goodbyes, until he was in the air with Laylea beside him in her bed before it became clear to him that if he took Laylea home, he would never try to give her away again.
Chapter Eleven
Laylea threw up once on the flight back. She didn’t even crawl out of Sher’s bed. Clark talked to her at first. Telling her what a brave girl she was. He explained how the plane worked, trying to talk in a soothing voice that would keep her calm. But he soon noticed that she was twitching, running in a dream. So he stopped talking to her and sang to himself. Dire Straits, jazz standards, show tunes with his own lyrics, and for about an hour he sang the new verse of Sher’s song. The song that kept him from giving up, which is what he’d wanted to do nearly every moment since Sher had woken him from the conditioned trance she herself had placed him in. He felt worthy and purposeful when he was with Sher and when he was with Bailey. And for this entire trip, with Laylea.
WereHuman - The Witch's Daughter: Consortium Battle book 1 (Wyrdos) Page 8