Surviving Love: Saints Protection & Investigations

by Maryann Jordan

  Without a second’s hesitation, she held onto the branch as long as she could as she scrambled down the embankment, slipping and sliding until she reached the bottom. Falling to her knees in the snow beside his still body, “Marc! Marc!” she screamed as she reached for him. Grabbing his head, her right glove came back red with blood. Panicked, she looked around before chastising herself, knowing there was no one to help. No one but her. Spots formed in front of her as her vision blurred, a panic-attack imminent. Gasping for air, she bent over his body, placing her forehead on his back as fear clawed at her stomach.

  Forcing her body to still, she focused on the simple in and out mechanics of breathing. After a moment, as the oxygen made its way to her brain, she lifted her head slowly, relieved for her cleared vision. Looking back down at the rapidly snow-covered body of Marc, she closed her eyes as she tried to make a list of what she needed to do.

  Think, think! Shit! What do I do? His chest moved up and down with breaths. He’s alive. The wound was not large and no longer actively bleeding. Gently shaking his shoulder she tried to wake him. “Marc… Marc, you’ve got to get up!” Nothing. Okay, okay. I’ve got to get him back. Looking up to the top of the ditch, she wondered how she would ever get him out. Rope!

  “Marc, if you can hear me, it’s Kendall,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m going back to camp but I’ll be right back.” His hat had fallen off with his tumble and and she found it nearby, gently placing it on his head, careful of his wound.

  Using the branch she had clung to, now bent partially down the side of the ditch, she pulled herself up and over the top. Stumbling as fast as she could through the snowy forest, following what was left of her footsteps, she ran back to the campsite. Diving inside, she huddled over the duffle bag, rummaging through until she found another bundle of rope. Unsure if it would be enough, she crawled back outside and untied a length from the tarp. Cursing herself for being so scatterbrained, she dashed back into the tent, wasting precious moments, grabbing the military-grade flashlight she had seen Marc use and shoving it into her pocket. Crawling back out once more, she noticed the evening shadows deepening and knew she had to hurry.

  The snow created a blinding panorama, but she followed her footsteps from before. Thinking to make the path more visible when she returned, she began to drag her feet, creating a deeper trench in the snow. Coming to the ditch, she stopped at the tree, peering over the side to assess the situation. Her breath came out in frosty pants as her lungs screamed for air. If I get out of this alive, I’m joining a gym, she vowed, irritated at her exhaustion.

  Standing in indecision for a moment, she looked around, hoping the answer to getting him to safety would just present itself. Damnit! Think, Kendall. Jerking her head to the side, she looked at the tree next to her and threw the end of the rope round the trunk, tying it securely. Taking the other end of the rope, she slid back down the hill, landing at Marc’s motionless body.

  Bending close, she brushed the snow from his face, his eyes still closed. Panic again threatened, her hand shaking as she rolled him to his back. Maneuvering the rope underneath his back and up through his armpits, she tied it tightly around his chest before climbing back up the embankment.

  Looping the rope around her arms before grasping the end, she pulled as hard as she could but her feet slipped on the snowy leaves causing her to land on her ass. “Damnit!” she screamed out her frustration. Scrambling to her feet, she stepped to the back of the tree, planting her feet against its trunk, using it as leverage as she pulled again. This time, she felt Marc’s full weight against the rope as he moved slightly. Pulling again, she realized he was only moving inches.

  Cold, mixed with fear, clawed at her, feeling hopeless with each movement. Swallowing back the tears, she prayed as she grasped the rope and pulled again…over and over. With each heave, his body inched closer. Arms aching, she peeked over the side. Only halfway up! Oh Jesus! And when I finally get him up, how the hell will I get him back? Refusing to think about that, she focused on pulling on the rope one hand at a time. Just when she thought she could go no further, she saw his head and shoulders clear the top of the ditch.

  With renewed effort, she continued hauling until his back was on the firm ground, only his legs still dangling below. Running over, she heaved him by his coat until he fully rested on the forest floor.

  Falling by his chest, she checked his breathing. She lay her head on his shoulder as her lungs gasped for air. “Ke-nal,” she heard, jerking up to see his eyes blinking.

  “Marc!”

  “Wha…” he moaned.

  “You fell…down a ditch. It wasn’t too deep but you hit your head.”

  “You…gah…”

  “I pulled you out of the ditch with some rope, but Marc, I don’t think I can drag you all the way back.” She held his face in her hands, brushing the swirling snow from his cheeks as she stared into his unfocused eyes. The night was falling fast and, soon, there would be no more light. I’ve got to get him back. “Please help me,” she begged, calling out both to him and to God. Untying the rope, she fumbled as she looped it over her shoulder.

  His eyes blinked a few more times before staying open. “Hel…me…uh…” His head pounded but it was the pain in his ankle that shot through his leg, incapacitating him. Inwardly cursing his inability to help himself, he tried to sit up.

  Squatting in the snow behind him, Kendall pushed on his shoulders as hard as she could, forcing him to a sitting position. He teetered, but she held fast, keeping him from falling back to the ground. “Come on,” she pleaded as she got her shoulder under his armpit and forced him upward. His considerable weight caused her knees to buckle and she scrambled on the slick path to find her footing.

  Finally getting him to his feet, she attempted to help him take a step, but he dropped back to his knees, grimacing in pain.

  Oh, God. His foot’s hurt too! “Marc, use me as your crutch. Hop on one foot and lean on me!” She had no idea if he was able to hear her, but he threw his heavy arm over her shoulders, nearly knocking her off balance once again.

  With Marc hobbling and Kendall buried under his weight, praying every step, they slowly made their way back toward the campsite. The night had descended but with the powerful flashlight held in the hand she had wrapped around his waist and pointed toward the ground, she forced them along the path of her previous footsteps, now almost covered in fresh snow.

  Staggering along the way, she blinked at the stinging ice hitting her face, her heart racing in a mixture of fear and adrenaline. “Marc? You still with me? Gotta hang with me. It’s not too much further. We’ll just go one step at a time, okay?” Rambling loudly with each step, she cursed as they stumbled. Without her scarf around her neck, the snow blew down the back of her jacket, making the cold even worse. Sucking in frozen air, she doubted her ability to go much further. Propping his back against a tree trunk with her hand pressing against his chest to steady him, she gasped for air for a minute before trying to continue.

  The swirling snow, the dark night, the illumination from the flashlight bouncing in front of them, all created a kaleidoscope of fear, causing Kendall’s tears to freeze on her face. A flash of her red scarf, still tied to the tree in the distance, finally caught her eye and she yelled, “We’re there, we’re there!”

  At the entrance to the tent, she tried to lower him to the ground, but he tumbled forward, landing with a thud just outside the entrance. Grimacing, she peeked inside, the fire still barely burning. The warmth of the structure hit her like a furnace blast and she turned back toward Marc, whose eyes were closing.

  “Marc!” she shouted, causing him to open them again focusing on her. “Crawl inside.”

  He tried to crawl as she kneeled in the snow, pushing and shoving against his ass, maneuvering him to the inside of the tent. He fell into a heap and she flopped down on the other side, every muscle screaming in pain as she panted.

  After a few minutes, she opened her eyes to a completely
blurry scene as they adjusted to the dim light and warmth. Once she had gathered her strength enough to crawl over to Marc, she peered down at his face. His eyes were once more closed as his chest heaved. “Marc?” she called.

  “Yea…” he whispered.

  She looked at the bruising on his temple, the dried blood crusted around the cut. “I don’t know what to do to help you. You hit your head. You said when I hit mine I might have a concussion. And there’s blood. And I don’t know what else you injured.”

  “An…kle,” he said, feeling what little strength he had leave him as the warmth of the tent encircled him. Closing his eyes, he fought against the desire to sleep.

  Sitting back on her heels, Kendall tried to decide what needed to be done first. He needs to get warm. He needs to rest. He needs water. I’ve got to clean the wound. He can’t sleep too long, gotta wake him up. Her list halted as she came up against a blank as to where to begin.

  Unzipping his coat, she was grateful to see that his shirt was dry while discovering his pockets held a bundle of sticks. Turning back to the fire, she placed several of them on the burning embers, watching as they caught fire. Digging through the duffle, she found the first aid kit and brought out the antiseptic and bandages. Carefully, she dabbed an antiseptic cotton pad onto his wound before covering it with two band aides.

  His eyes fluttered open once more, but only long enough for him to say, “I sor…ry.”

  “No, no,” she hushed. “It’ll be fine. I’ll take care of you,” she promised, not having any idea how she was going to fulfill that oath.

  Looking down at his feet, she began untying his boots. Pulling off first one and then tugging on the other, she heard him grunt loudly. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, trying to remove the boot gently. Rolling down the thick sock, she gasped, seeing the bruised and swollen ankle. Oh, God, is it broken? This needs more than a band-aide!

  Cursing her lack of first aid knowledge, she rocked back on her heels, not knowing how to help him. Rubbing her face, she heard the wind whipping as the sides of the tent flapped. Remembering she had taken the rope from the tarp, she crawled back outside. Stinging snow pelted her body as she tried to remember how Marc had the rope before.

  With frozen hands, she tied the rope back to the trees surrounding the tarp, securing their tent once more. Kicking the snow away from the ground, she gathered a few more sticks, hoping she would be able to keep the fire going through the night.

  Crawling back inside, she sat, huddled in a ball, the adrenaline rush ending, leaving every muscle screaming with exhaustion and her head pounding. After a few minutes, the warmth began to penetrate and her cheeks stung with the change in temperature.

  Pulling off her cap, she unzipped her coat and rolled it into a ball, placing it under Marc’s injured ankle. Staring at it, she looked at his swollen foot but noted it was not bent at an odd angle. Maybe that means it’s just sprained. Searching her memories for what to do with a sprained ankle, the only idea she could recall was to wrap it tightly. Digging through the first aid kit again, she pulled out a roll of elastic bandages. Moving to his foot, she wrapped the bandage around and around.

  A grunt had her gaze jump from his foot to his eyes, seeing them open once more. She crawled over him until her face was near his. “How do you feel?”

  Marc stared at the beauty, whose long hair was hanging down in a sheet, curtaining them both. He tried to remember who she was and if he had picked her up on the hike. “Whas your name?” his voice slurred as he reached out his hands and grasped her upper arms, bringing her face closer to his. Her red lips were plump and he wanted to taste them to see if they were as delectable as he hoped.

  “Oh, Marc,” she groaned. “I’m Kendall…please wake up and remember.”

  As he scrunched his face at her words, a sharp pain slashed across his forehead. Huh? His hands squeezed her arms for a second before he jerked his eyes open wide. Kendall? Dr. Rhodes? Fuck! What’s happened?

  “Marc, you fell and hurt yourself. Please…you need to rest.”

  His hands flew off her arms as though holding a hot poker. “Kendall?” he whispered. Reaching up, he touched the bandage on his pounding head, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Oh, God, I was about to kiss her!

  “You fell and hit your head on a rock. You’ve been unconscious for most of the past hour,” she explained.

  He blinked a few more times as her words took hold. He tried to sit up but pressure from her hands on his chest kept him flat on his back. “I need to get up,” he protested.

  “Oh, no,” she warned. “You also sprained your ankle…or at least I hope it’s sprained and not broken.”

  “Fuck!” he cursed, dizzy from the simple exertion.

  Getting one of the water bottles filled with melted snow, she lifted his head slightly so he could drink. “Marc, I don’t know what to do to help you,” she said. “Can you tell me?”

  “I probably have a concussion,” he surmised, angry at his weakened condition. “I’ve already gone to sleep several times, but you should wake me during the night, like I did for you, remember? Jesus, Kendall, I can’t believe this happened.” His mind was fuzzy but he knew he needed to try to stay as sharp as possible. “Is it still snowing?”

  “Yeah,” she replied, adding another stick to the fire. “Are you warm enough?”

  Nodding, he had to admit, she had done an amazing job of getting him comfortable. He glanced down at his foot and wanted to check it out but raising his head sent a wave of nausea through him. Closing his eyes, he willed the tent to stop spinning. Oh, shit…I’ve never failed at a mission before. The fear of what might happen in the night with him incapacitated made him just as nauseated as trying to sit up. Feeling a warm cloth on his face, he reached up and clasped Kendall’s hand as she wiped his forehead. Sleep was calling once more, but he managed to whisper, “Thank you,” before slipping off.

  Chapter 12

  Fatigue pulled at every muscle, but Kendall set her phone alarm to go off every two hours so she could check on Marc. She would like to think she would have stayed awake to watch over him without it, but did not trust herself not to fall asleep.

  Hearing the wind still howling, she peeked outside, disheartened to still see the heavy snow falling by her flashlight. The darkness still blanketed the early morning, keeping her from seeing clearly how much snow had fallen.

  Glancing over at Marc, she noted his steady breathing, glad he was still sleeping. Leaning over, she gently placed her hand across his forehead, breathing a sigh of relief that it was cool to the touch. Digging through the first aid kit, she came across a bottle of aspirin. I’ll get this down him when he wakes up.

  His phone vibrated and she searched to locate the sound. Her hand stilled over his crotch as she realized it was in his front pants pocket. Anxious, she jerked her gaze back to his still-sleeping face. The vibrating started up again and she carefully slid her hand in his pocket, her fingers moving along his jean-clad, thick, muscular thigh. Letting out the breath she had been holding, she latched onto the phone, sliding it out.

  The vibrating had stopped, but as she checked the missed calls, she saw the name Luke. Not knowing the names of his co-workers, she had no idea who that person might be. But what does it matter? I can at least let them know what is going on.

  Pressing call-back, she heard it connect on the first ring.

  “Marc? I was getting worried when you didn’t pick up. I’ve been trying and trying but haven’t been able to make it through. I know it’s early there, but we wanted to do a status check.”

  “Um…this isn’t Marc. Is this—?”

  “Dr. Rhodes?”

  “Yes…this is Kendall Rhodes.”

  “Where’s Marc?”

  “He’s…wait, who is this?”

  “Dr. Rhodes, this is Luke. I’m a co-worker of Marc’s and I’m here with some other co-workers. What’s happening?”

  “Oh, okay. Um, well, Marc fell and hit his head and has hu
rt his ankle. I was able to get him back to our shelter, but I don’t really know how to help him.”

  “Dr. Rhodes, I’m putting you on speaker, so the others who are with me can hear.”

  “Um…okay. And you can call me Kendall.”

  “Kendall, this is Chad. What injuries does he have?”

  Reciting what she knew and explaining what she had done, the men on the other end praised her. “It sounds like you’ve done an amazing job so far,” Chad assured.

  “I didn’t know how to wrap his ankle, so I just kind of wrapped it around and around,” she explained.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Chad said. “The most important thing is…support and…swelling down. What about…head injury?”

  “Wait! You’re breaking up! Did you say head injury? He’s got a gash on his forehead, but when I cleaned the wound, it’s not as big as I was afraid.”

  From what she could hear, Chad once again praised her first aid attempts.

  “Ma’am, this is Cam here. What is the status of your site?”

  “Status?”

  “What kind of shelter do you have?” he queried.

  “Well, we’ve built a tent and Marc started a little fire inside. I’ve been able to keep it burning, but with the wind, I have to admit the tarp is taking a beating.”

  “Kendall, it’s Luke again. The reason…I’ve now been able to get a satellite image on the location of Marc’s signal…a small wooden structure about a mile south of where you are…determined this earlier, Marc could have gotten you to the site.”

  “You’re breaking up again. There’s a structure a mile south of here? Okay, but I don’t know if we can make it. He can’t walk on his foot. And even if I can help him, I don’t know which direction to go in.”