Kiamichi Reunion: Book Five of the Kiamichi Survival Series

by C. A. Henry

  Considering for only a few seconds, Stevie replied, “Well, Harry, I see a white male, around forty, although I’m not good with ages, and cleaner than he should be out here, except there’s blood on his clothes. His beard is trimmed, he needs a haircut, and he’s really pale. Looks sweaty, too, and it’s cool today,” she concluded.

  “He’s sick. I’d bet money that he has a wound that’s infected. He doesn’t seem like a bad sort, talks like he didn’t drop out of school, and he’s unarmed, as far as I can tell,” Helen assured her.

  The man swayed and fell against a tree. “I am pretty sick, actually. If I don’t find some help soon, I won’t make it.” Then he slid down the tree, landing in a heap on the dirt.

  “Help me, Steve,” Helen urged. “I would have killed him if he’d acted like he wanted to hurt us, but I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I think he’s just a guy down on his luck. Let’s get him further back in the trees so I can take a look at that wound.”

  Helen checked the man for weapons and found only a small pocketknife in a lower pocket of his cargo pants. Between them, she and Stevie managed to get the semi-conscious man up, and supporting him, they returned to the camp they’d used the night before. Helen held him, propped against a tree, while Stevie folded her blanket and spread it out on the ground. Then she helped Helen lay the man on it. His eyes rolled back and he lost consciousness.

  Helen got the first aid kit out of her pack and opened the man’s shirt. Removing the bloody bandages, she examined the diagonal gash across the left side of his abdomen. It was about five inches long, but she couldn’t see how deep it was because of the oozing blood and stinking pus.

  “Steve, we need water. We can fill our reservoirs later, but this has to be cleaned up. I need you to dig a new Dakota hole. We need to get some broth down him when he wakes up, I think.”

  With a wad of gauze from the kit, Helen gently cleaned the wound, squeezing the pus out and fighting an urge to gag at the stench and the green and red gunk seeping out. Once she had it cleaned, she could see that it was a flesh wound, but one that had obviously bled a lot, judging from the stains on the man’s clothing. It should have had stitches days ago, but it was too late now.

  Fumbling through her medicines, she found a bottle of antibiotics, but until the man woke up, she couldn’t give him one of the capsules.

  A small bottle caught her eye. Ah! The essential oils I tossed in! I’m not sure if it’s okay on an open wound, but maybe if I rub it around the edges, it’ll help. She dug around until she found the ones she wanted: tea tree and lavender, then tipped the bottle and placed three drops of each around the wound, then rubbed it in. Lavender for the pain, and tea tree for the infection and to help it heal. I think there’s some others in there that would help, too, but that’ll do for now.

  Stevie had the Dakota hole dug, so Helen got busy setting a few snares. They’d have to eat from their supplies for lunch, but maybe there’d be fresh meat for later on.

  When Helen returned, Stevie was sitting on the ground, considering the food in her pack. Helen eased down beside her and gave her a rueful smile.

  “I think we should avoid having a fire before dark. The Dakota hole will hide most of the flames, but the smoke will be visible if we light it now. I have a small jar of peanut butter, a package of cashews, and maybe some crackers. They’ll be stale, but not rancid, I think.”

  Stevie grinned. “I have a package of M&Ms for dessert. I’ve been saving them, but today, I think we deserve a treat. There’s a little dried fruit, too. We’ll manage. So, how bad was that guy’s wound?”

  Helen grimaced. “It wouldn’t be bad at all, if he’d gotten it cleaned up and stitched right after it happened. Unfortunately, he didn’t, so it was putrid. I bet it’s been several days since it happened. I hope he wakes up enough to take some antibiotics before long.”

  “You’ve got antibiotics? I thought you needed a prescription for those,” Stevie murmured, looking puzzled.

  “I ordered them online. They’re from a pet supply and they’re marketed for fish. Believe it or not, fish antibiotics are the same as the ones we take. They’re even made in the same factories. I have four different kinds, and I marked on the bottles what each one is used for and what the dosage should be.”

  “Really? How in the world did you know all that?”

  “I read it in one of my friend Ernie’s books. The capsules for fish and the ones for people have only two differences: the label on the outside of the bottle and the need for a prescription, if it’s for people. Well, and the price, too. Fish antibiotics are cheaper,” Helen laughed, then shrugged. “You do realize that helping this man has caused another change in plans, don’t you?”

  Stevie nodded. “We’ll be stuck here until he’s able to continue on his own, but we can’t just leave him. It’d be almost like murder.”

  “Yes, but this may set us back several days. We need shelter, too. Something to keep us dry if it rains, and hopefully, something that will hide the flames if it gets cold enough that we need a bigger fire. I don’t know what to do, kid. I just don’t know,” Helen sighed.

  “Remember the last field we crossed? There was a little building on the north edge of it. Maybe he’ll get strong enough that we could go there.”

  “That’s a couple of miles, at least. And we have no way of knowing if somebody is already there. No, I think we’ll have to build something. I have a tarp. It’s not real big, but it’d keep the rain off, I guess.”

  “Three of us under one tarp? Helen, that’s not going to work very well. We angled north after we left that last farm. I bet it’s not as far to the barn as you think. We need real shelter now. That man has a fever and might not survive being wet, too. The weather is clear today, so could we just not decide for sure until tomorrow? Give him today and overnight to rest, and maybe he’ll be strong enough that we can get him there.”

  “And what if we get there and that barn is occupied? We don’t need to get into a situation like that, Stevie.”

  “True, but we could stop at the edge of the woods and watch for a while, then I could sneak over and check it out. If it’s empty, it’d be a much better place than here.”

  Helen considered for a moment, then nodded. “It would, but we need to wait until tomorrow to make a final decision. We’ll see how he’s doing and discuss it then. I hope our food holds out. Having another mouth to feed wasn’t in the plan.

  “I still think we need to rig up an A-frame shelter with the tarp, even if it’s just for tonight. It’s getting cooler, and we need to block the wind off our guest. If we make it low enough, it’ll be wider, so two, if not all three of us, can crawl in there.”

  Stevie frowned. “He can’t crawl; he’s out like a light. We can’t put him in it without hurting him.”

  “Oh, yeah, we can,” Helen grinned. “We’re going to build it over him. He’s lying east to west, which is the direction we need, and we’ll just put the shelter over him, right where he is,” Helen smirked. “I planned this, dear. We set him down with his head near that tree, and there’s another tree straight across our little clearing. C’mon. Here’s another lesson for you to learn.”

  “Yeah, Lesson Number Four Hundred and Twelve,” Stevie snorted. “By the time we get where we’re going, I’ll be an expert.”

  Helen got her paracord out and unrolled it, handing Stevie one end and gesturing for her to tie it to the tree near the man’s head. Stevie held it up, and Helen signaled for her to lower it. When Helen nodded, Stevie tied the cord and watched as Helen pulled it tight and got it secured to the opposite tree.

  Then she got the tarp and unfolded it. It was colored with a camo pattern and about ten feet long and eight feet wide. Helen arranged it over the cord so that there was about five feet hanging on each side. She handed Stevie three thin metal stakes from a pocket of her pack and showed her how to use the stakes to hold the tarp. They each drove their stakes into the ground, using rocks for hammers.


  Finished, they stood back and admired their work. Their patient had slept through the whole process, and just as they were done, he began to snore softly.

  ~~~~

  The two women found enough to snack on for lunch without having a fire. Stevie shared her bag of M&Ms with Helen, and both of them slowly savored the last taste of milk chocolate they would have for a long, long time. Then Stevie gathered sticks for the Dakota hole while Helen checked on the stranger again.

  “How is he?” Stevie whispered.

  “He doesn’t seem as hot now, but he needs to wake up soon. We have to get some fluids in him, and hopefully, get him to take some medicine. We need to refill our water bladders, too. I’d planned to do that this morning when we went to the river, but we got distracted.”

  “We could go now, couldn’t we? You stand watch from the trees, and I’ll fill both our Sawyer ‘dirty’ water bags. We can filter it when we get back here. He probably won’t wake up, but even if he does, he’s in no shape to take our packs and leave.”

  “We can go, but we aren’t leaving our packs. We’ll carry them with us.” When Stevie started to open her mouth, Helen held up a hand. “He’s not going anywhere, but we can’t afford to have someone else stumble on this place and steal our stuff, just because we were too lazy to carry it with us. Our new friend here isn’t in any shape to protect our stuff, either.”

  Stevie nodded, threw her pack on, and while Helen grabbed hers, concentrated on listening. There were no sounds other than normal forest noises, so the two women set off for the river.

  There was no reason to hurry, so they took time to be extra cautious. Approaching the river in broad daylight, instead of early in the morning or just before dark, was risky, but they really needed the water, especially since they’d taken on another person.

  The section of river nearest their camp wasn’t the safest place to be. The river curved slightly, making it impossible to see far along the bank in either direction. If someone came along and didn’t make any noise, by the time Helen and Stevie realized it, it might be too late.

  They stopped about fifteen yards apart and barely in the trees, and listened. There was nothing unusual, so Helen nodded at Stevie, who darted out, slid down the slight bank to the water, and took another quick look around. Helen stood with her rifle, head swiveling and ears alert. Stevie quickly filled both Sawyer bags and made a run for the trees, just as Helen caught a glimpse of movement to the north.

  Two men came into view, walking quickly, but paying little attention to their surroundings. One glanced up just as Stevie disappeared, but he caught a glimpse of one leg before it vanished. Helen stood behind a tree, out of sight, but peering out.

  She noticed his sudden alertness as he grabbed his friend’s arm and pointed. Her mind raced through the choices she had: to run and try to hide with Stevie, to distract the men and hope Stevie got away, to run in another direction and hope she could draw them south, then evade by circling around, or to just shoot them and be done with it.

  While those thoughts whirled in her head, she realized that the two men exactly fit the description that Stevie had given her of the two ‘wimmin’ hunters they’d encountered. Blue shirt, jeans, skinny, with long, dirty blond hair, and stockier, with a gray hoodie. Yes, she was sure it was the same two men.

  She ran at a crouch, dodging trees, on a course to intercept the men if they went after Stevie. Her greatest hope at that moment was that she would get there in time.

  Stevie hadn’t seen the men, but she heard them because they shouted as they gave chase. She could hear them crashing through the underbrush, and knew she could outrun them, but to where? She certainly didn’t want to lead them back to the little clearing. She acted instinctively by turning south, making some extra noise as she did, so her pursuers would be sure to follow.

  She hadn’t gone far when she saw Helen coming toward her. Helen glanced around, then waved for Stevie to join her. She darted into a thick stand of trees and knelt, scanning the area for the men. Stevie was only seconds behind and as soon as she set the Sawyer bags down, she drew her Glock.

  They could hear the men approaching, then silence. Helen leaned over to murmur, “I bet they are listening, too. How have those two managed to survive this long?”

  Then the sounds began again, softer, as though the men were moving more slowly. Finally, they came into view, the heftier one panting hard. Skinny Man turned one way, then another, trying to figure out where their prey had gone.

  “Dang it, Buddy! If’n you wasn’t so slow, we woulda caught that guy. Didja see? He had a pack! We coulda had whatever’s in there. Ah bet he had food. And a bottle!”

  “Ain’t nobody got a bottle nowadays. All the likker has done been drunk, unless somebody got a still hid somewhere. That’s what we oughta be lookin’ fer. A still!”

  Skinny Man slapped Buddy on the back of the head. “We could search these whole woods and never find no still. We ain’t had nothin’ to eat since we stole that old womin’s fish. We shoulda stole her fishing pole, too.”

  “Them guys on the bridge in Refuge woulda took it. It don’t do no good to get anythin’, ‘cause somebody else just takes it from us. Now, if’n we had some guns, we’d be runnin’ thangs ‘round here.”

  “No, you’d prolly shoot yerself in the foot. You’re dumber than a box of rocks, Buddy. Ah don’t know why Ah let you foller me ‘round.”

  “Ah ain’t follerin’ you! Ah been tryin’ to shake you off for weeks! Ah don’t need you bossin’ me all the time, even if we are kin.”

  “Well, just go, then! See if Ah care. You won’t last a day without me, you big dummy. Go on! Ah don’t need you.”

  Buddy glared at Skinny Man, then stomped off toward the river. Skinny stood there, hands on hips, until his cousin was out of sight, then began to speak in a soft, crooning voice.

  “Come out, little man. Ah know you ain’t gone far. It got quiet too sudden-like, so you’re hidin’ somewheres close. Ah know you hear me. Come on out. I ain’t gonna hurt you. Ah jest wanna talk.”

  Stevie’s eyes met Helen’s and her question was plain to see. What do we do now?

  Helen gave a tiny shrug and got a goofy look on her face, as though she was trying to convey that she had no clue what to do. The man crept closer.

  He stopped and almost appeared to be sniffing the air like a dog. His face went through several expressions: frustration, hope, determination, anger, resignation.

  He stepped closer, turned his head, and saw them.

  Helen rose, her rifle pointed right at his gut. Stevie stepped around the cluster of trees, coming out on the man’s left. Then he made his last mistake.

  He jumped toward Helen, reaching for her weapon. Her finger squeezed the trigger. The slug shredded a large part of his digestive organs and took out a short section of his spine.

  Stevie stared, eyes huge, and watched as his body slowly collapsed. She continued to watch, transfixed, as his mouth opened in a silent scream, then his eyes drifted shut and his jaw went slack.

  Running around the bloody mass, Helen grabbed Stevie’s arm and yanked her into motion, but Stevie jerked free to grab the Sawyer bags.

  “Can’t forget these,” she gasped. “After all, they’re what we came for.” She handed the bags to Helen and turned around, suggesting, “Tuck those into my pack. Good thing I have a little room in there now.”

  Helen zipped the pack and patted Stevie’s shoulder. “Stay close. We want to make sure anyone who follows knows they’re trailing more than one person. They already know at least one of us has a weapon.”

  They sped away, headed to the clearing.

  Chapter Twelve

  January 4, near the Mississippi River

  Helen stopped behind a small pine tree and gestured for Stevie to join her. She placed her hands on her knees and bent over, trying to catch her breath. Stevie waited until the older woman straightened before she spoke.

  “I’m sorry you had to do that, but he
would have taken our stuff, at the very least.”

  Sighing, Helen nodded. “I think he would have seen through our disguises, even as dumb as he was. His friend couldn’t have been out of earshot, and if Skinny Man discovered he’d found two women, he might have yelled for backup. No, I had to do it. When he tried to grab my rifle, he was bought and paid for.

  “But that’s not why I stopped. I needed to catch my breath, and we need to go back into stealth mode. I doubt that ‘Buddy’ fellow will come after us. He’ll see the skinny guy and probably run for his life, but we can’t take a chance. We need to lead him, if he’s even following, away from our camp.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. We could head south a little more, then circle around to the east. He didn’t strike me as the smartest of the two, so maybe we can fool him.”

  “Okay, let’s leave some obvious signs that we turned south, and move more quietly. Let’s stay together a while longer, too.”

  They turned south through a small meadow. Stevie dragged her feet through the grass and weeds, then found some bare ground and left boot prints across it. Helen stopped at a tree on the far side and broke a few twigs just below eye level. They went about ten yards further and she pulled a wad of tissue from her pocket, blew her nose, and dropped it on the path.

  “Okay, we’ll go just a little further, and turn east. When we do, let’s separate some, but keep each other in sight as much as possible. Try not to leave a trail after that. I’d worry about the signs we already left being too blatant, but this guy’s cornbread isn’t done in the middle.”

  Stevie grinned. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” which made Helen cover her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing out loud.

  “Let’s listen a minute,” Stevie suggested. They both concentrated on sounds, and heard nothing at first, then a wail of distress sounded in the distance.

  “I think Buddy just found his pal. Let’s go, fast but quiet.” With that, Helen tipped her head to the south, and took off at a trot.