Re: Gila River AU/W L/M teen 11/23/2008
Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 5:20 pm
18 hours earlier
The hike up the Little Bear Canyon was a reasonably difficult one even without one exhausted teenager and one wounded one, but it had several distinct advantages over the route they had taken to get to the hot springs. For one, it put them at right angles to the likely path of the other drug runners who were almost certainly coming north down the river. Additionally, the steep climb would put any pursuers at a disadvantage. Jeff knew that they had the weapons they’d brought – Lizzy was mainly using hers as a walking stick right now – and maybe even Max’s power if it came to that. The young man was in the lead – hanging in there on the hike, but he looked like a stiff wind was all it would take to knock him over – it would certainly be unwise to count on him for any firepower anytime soon. What he mostly hoped was that the other drug runners would find the bodies of their friends and content themselves with taking the drugs and going back the way they came.
The downside of this route, however, was that it was sapping their strength and wearing them down. Water, at least, they had in abundance. They had food enough for the night and morning – then they’d be living off the land, although if they could get to the high mountain lakes tomorrow, Max might be able to help them there. He had said that he could sort of feel the thoughts of wildlife if it was close enough – that was how he’d known the Gila monster was there – and where to fish. One fishing rod was still intact – maybe it would be enough to feed them if they could put Max’s skills to work – but those thoughts were for tomorrow.
The altitude was also a problem. Even the Gila had been 5000 ft above sea level. Where they were going to be climbing was going to be nearer 8000 feet. Even for people acclimatized to Roswell’s 3700 feet, the steep climbing was leaving them all winded. Worse than that, the combination of altitude – fatigue – and the need for food was making them all clumsy which only compounded their problems, The more their energy was depleted, the clumsier they got – the clumsier they got, the more energy they wasted. It was a vicious circle, and Jeff wanted to get them all off of it – but he needed to get them to the high pass at the top of the canyon first. The next hour would be critical, because as they approached the pass, they were the most exposed while simultaneously having to concentrate on the steep terrain ahead. It actually went pretty well for the first 45 minutes. Jeff was spending almost as much time watching backward as he was forward – seeing how Lizzy was coming, and watching for any pursuit from below. That’s how he managed to be looking behind him when he saw Lizzy fall.
The surprising thing was how little warning there was – she seemed to be uncomfortable but soldiering on one second, the next second her right knee had just buckled and she went down. It surprised him less after he worked his way back to her – seeing the trickle of blood run down her leg and the bright red stain on her cutoff levis where the entry wound had been.
“How long has this been going on?” he asked, putting pressure over the area.
“It started bleeding about an hour ago. I kept jamming bandages down to keep pressure on it because I didn’t want to slow us down,” said his daughter, looking up at him. "My leg got numb – then it got weak. I don’t think it’s got much blood flowing down it with all the pressure from the bandage.”
Jeff picked up his daughter and carried her up the hill to the first level area where Max and Nancy had stopped. The right leg was cramping up – the skin was cool to the touch compared to the other, and Jeff could feel no pulse at the right ankle, compared to the left.
“What’s wrong with Lizzy?” asked an obviously apprehensive Nancy.
“From the looks of it, the pellet must have hit her artery. With all the exertion – I don’t know – maybe the clot broke loose, maybe it just tore some more.” He didn’t want to mention the rest of it. The bleeding was right over the femoral artery. Even with all the pressure the bandages were applying it wasn’t stopping the arterial bleeding. The wound was too close to the body to apply a tourniquet, but the pressure bandage was cutting off the bloodflow to her leg just as effectively. Lizzy needed surgery and needed it within a few hours or she was going to lose her leg, even if they could stop the bleeding. If they couldn’t stop it – or couldn’t get her to a hospital, Jeff knew his daughter was going to die.
“We need to get her out of here – we need a helicopter or something,” said Jeff, unable to face the fact that he had no way of getting help for his daughter where she was – and no way of getting her to where help was.
“The satellite phone that man had ….,” started Nancy.
“It was toast – wrecked in the explosion,” said Jeff, becoming more panicky by the moment.
“I think maybe I can heal her,” said Max.
“What do you mean, you think you can heal her, Max?” asked Jeff.
“I have another thing I can do. I’ve only done it twice though, once with a pigeon and once with a guinea pig. I don’t know if it will work, but we have to do something…”
“Let him try, Daddy….”
“OK Max, what do we do first?” asked Jeff.
“I’ve got to be able to touch the area. Can you help me get her pants off?”
On any other day Jeff would have probably thought helping his daughter's would-be boyfriend take his daughter’s pants off would have been odd, but there really hadn’t been much normal about this day. With Nancy’s assistance, they soon had the cutoffs off. Lizzy had bikini underwear on – the thought going through Jeff’s mind that Lizzy and her mother had once had a heated discussion about that.
Lizzy had wanted to buy bikini style panties with her birthday money when she’d turned twelve. Her mother had told her she didn’t need anything like that at twelve years of age – but that had been two and a half years ago – practically a lifetime to a teenage girl. How long had Lizzy been buying that style? Probably at least a year now he’d seen it in the laundry.
The entry wound was just outside her panties - and had an obvious rhythmic flow of blood welling up in time to Lizzy’s pulse. With the pressure bandage off it was even worse. Max put his hand two inches above Lizzy’s groin and apparently realized he’d have to touch those panties – he froze.
Jeff looked at Lizzy and looked at Max. He wouldn't have really thought that Lizzy had enough blood left in her to blush – but she did, so did Max – and Max’s hand was shaking like he was scared to death.
“For God’s sake, Max – pretend she’s Mr. Pibbles!” shouted Jeff. It seemed to break the spell Max was under and he pushed his hand down firmly over the wound in Lizzy’s groin.
“We have to connect mentally for this to work. Look at me, Liz, ... look into my eyes.”
Max seemed to grimace with pain as Liz grimaced – but somehow his hand drew the pellet from her groin – there was a brief gush of blood but then the same golden glow that had killed the drug smugglers came from Max’s hand – first staunching the flow – then as Max drew his hand away, the wound itself was gone – Lizzy’s skin was unblemished. Even as he watched, the pallor of her right leg was replaced by the pink skin of full circulation.
Jeff looked up in awe at Max’s face – then looked at his daughter. Lizzy was speechless for about ten seconds, before looking up at Max angrily.
“How could you even THINK that, Maxwell Evans? It was STUPID enough to begin with – thinking I couldn’t accept you because of your secret – but I SPOONFED you peach slices after I already knew, and you STILL thought I couldn’t ever want to be your girlfriend because you were different? What kind of a bigoted imbecile do you think I am?”
If Max had an answer, he never got a chance to give it. Apparently healing Liz had taken what little energy he still had left. Jeff barely managed to catch him, as he collapsed wordlessly beside Lizzy.
“I think Max needs another nap, dear,” Jeff said to his daughter. “… and you might give him a LITTLE slack when he wakes up. He DID save your life - again.”
He could have spared his lecture. Even before he finished it, Lizzy was all over Max – trying to make sure he was alright. It looked like he was just sleeping again.
It was another hour before they were at the pass at the top of the canyon. Liz really was alright – Max had spent his energy insuring that. Jeff had made two trips, the first one dropping off his gear, the second one going back for Max, who he carried for almost a quarter mile. It was nightfall before they’d improvised shelters, the girls in the small tent, Max and Jeff in a shelter Jeff had improvised out of one of Max’s space blankets. Jeff laid Max in the shelter to sleep and the other three fixed a cold dinner of freeze dried macaroni and cheese. Jeff watched Liz check Max tearfully about every five minutes, alternating looking apprehensively at him with berating herself for having yelled at him.
“That,” said Nancy to her husband, “… apparently was the lover’s first quarrel..”
“Please – friends first quarrel…”
Nancy looked at him and her eyebrow went up.
“OK,” he conceded, “good friends first quarrel.”
Nancy’s eyes held his.
“OK, OK, … boyfriend and girlfriend’s first quarrel.”
Nancy smiled and took another bite of cold macaroni and cheese.
The hike up the Little Bear Canyon was a reasonably difficult one even without one exhausted teenager and one wounded one, but it had several distinct advantages over the route they had taken to get to the hot springs. For one, it put them at right angles to the likely path of the other drug runners who were almost certainly coming north down the river. Additionally, the steep climb would put any pursuers at a disadvantage. Jeff knew that they had the weapons they’d brought – Lizzy was mainly using hers as a walking stick right now – and maybe even Max’s power if it came to that. The young man was in the lead – hanging in there on the hike, but he looked like a stiff wind was all it would take to knock him over – it would certainly be unwise to count on him for any firepower anytime soon. What he mostly hoped was that the other drug runners would find the bodies of their friends and content themselves with taking the drugs and going back the way they came.
The downside of this route, however, was that it was sapping their strength and wearing them down. Water, at least, they had in abundance. They had food enough for the night and morning – then they’d be living off the land, although if they could get to the high mountain lakes tomorrow, Max might be able to help them there. He had said that he could sort of feel the thoughts of wildlife if it was close enough – that was how he’d known the Gila monster was there – and where to fish. One fishing rod was still intact – maybe it would be enough to feed them if they could put Max’s skills to work – but those thoughts were for tomorrow.
The altitude was also a problem. Even the Gila had been 5000 ft above sea level. Where they were going to be climbing was going to be nearer 8000 feet. Even for people acclimatized to Roswell’s 3700 feet, the steep climbing was leaving them all winded. Worse than that, the combination of altitude – fatigue – and the need for food was making them all clumsy which only compounded their problems, The more their energy was depleted, the clumsier they got – the clumsier they got, the more energy they wasted. It was a vicious circle, and Jeff wanted to get them all off of it – but he needed to get them to the high pass at the top of the canyon first. The next hour would be critical, because as they approached the pass, they were the most exposed while simultaneously having to concentrate on the steep terrain ahead. It actually went pretty well for the first 45 minutes. Jeff was spending almost as much time watching backward as he was forward – seeing how Lizzy was coming, and watching for any pursuit from below. That’s how he managed to be looking behind him when he saw Lizzy fall.
The surprising thing was how little warning there was – she seemed to be uncomfortable but soldiering on one second, the next second her right knee had just buckled and she went down. It surprised him less after he worked his way back to her – seeing the trickle of blood run down her leg and the bright red stain on her cutoff levis where the entry wound had been.
“How long has this been going on?” he asked, putting pressure over the area.
“It started bleeding about an hour ago. I kept jamming bandages down to keep pressure on it because I didn’t want to slow us down,” said his daughter, looking up at him. "My leg got numb – then it got weak. I don’t think it’s got much blood flowing down it with all the pressure from the bandage.”
Jeff picked up his daughter and carried her up the hill to the first level area where Max and Nancy had stopped. The right leg was cramping up – the skin was cool to the touch compared to the other, and Jeff could feel no pulse at the right ankle, compared to the left.
“What’s wrong with Lizzy?” asked an obviously apprehensive Nancy.
“From the looks of it, the pellet must have hit her artery. With all the exertion – I don’t know – maybe the clot broke loose, maybe it just tore some more.” He didn’t want to mention the rest of it. The bleeding was right over the femoral artery. Even with all the pressure the bandages were applying it wasn’t stopping the arterial bleeding. The wound was too close to the body to apply a tourniquet, but the pressure bandage was cutting off the bloodflow to her leg just as effectively. Lizzy needed surgery and needed it within a few hours or she was going to lose her leg, even if they could stop the bleeding. If they couldn’t stop it – or couldn’t get her to a hospital, Jeff knew his daughter was going to die.
“We need to get her out of here – we need a helicopter or something,” said Jeff, unable to face the fact that he had no way of getting help for his daughter where she was – and no way of getting her to where help was.
“The satellite phone that man had ….,” started Nancy.
“It was toast – wrecked in the explosion,” said Jeff, becoming more panicky by the moment.
“I think maybe I can heal her,” said Max.
“What do you mean, you think you can heal her, Max?” asked Jeff.
“I have another thing I can do. I’ve only done it twice though, once with a pigeon and once with a guinea pig. I don’t know if it will work, but we have to do something…”
“Let him try, Daddy….”
“OK Max, what do we do first?” asked Jeff.
“I’ve got to be able to touch the area. Can you help me get her pants off?”
On any other day Jeff would have probably thought helping his daughter's would-be boyfriend take his daughter’s pants off would have been odd, but there really hadn’t been much normal about this day. With Nancy’s assistance, they soon had the cutoffs off. Lizzy had bikini underwear on – the thought going through Jeff’s mind that Lizzy and her mother had once had a heated discussion about that.
Lizzy had wanted to buy bikini style panties with her birthday money when she’d turned twelve. Her mother had told her she didn’t need anything like that at twelve years of age – but that had been two and a half years ago – practically a lifetime to a teenage girl. How long had Lizzy been buying that style? Probably at least a year now he’d seen it in the laundry.
The entry wound was just outside her panties - and had an obvious rhythmic flow of blood welling up in time to Lizzy’s pulse. With the pressure bandage off it was even worse. Max put his hand two inches above Lizzy’s groin and apparently realized he’d have to touch those panties – he froze.
Jeff looked at Lizzy and looked at Max. He wouldn't have really thought that Lizzy had enough blood left in her to blush – but she did, so did Max – and Max’s hand was shaking like he was scared to death.
“For God’s sake, Max – pretend she’s Mr. Pibbles!” shouted Jeff. It seemed to break the spell Max was under and he pushed his hand down firmly over the wound in Lizzy’s groin.
“We have to connect mentally for this to work. Look at me, Liz, ... look into my eyes.”
Max seemed to grimace with pain as Liz grimaced – but somehow his hand drew the pellet from her groin – there was a brief gush of blood but then the same golden glow that had killed the drug smugglers came from Max’s hand – first staunching the flow – then as Max drew his hand away, the wound itself was gone – Lizzy’s skin was unblemished. Even as he watched, the pallor of her right leg was replaced by the pink skin of full circulation.
Jeff looked up in awe at Max’s face – then looked at his daughter. Lizzy was speechless for about ten seconds, before looking up at Max angrily.
“How could you even THINK that, Maxwell Evans? It was STUPID enough to begin with – thinking I couldn’t accept you because of your secret – but I SPOONFED you peach slices after I already knew, and you STILL thought I couldn’t ever want to be your girlfriend because you were different? What kind of a bigoted imbecile do you think I am?”
If Max had an answer, he never got a chance to give it. Apparently healing Liz had taken what little energy he still had left. Jeff barely managed to catch him, as he collapsed wordlessly beside Lizzy.
“I think Max needs another nap, dear,” Jeff said to his daughter. “… and you might give him a LITTLE slack when he wakes up. He DID save your life - again.”
He could have spared his lecture. Even before he finished it, Lizzy was all over Max – trying to make sure he was alright. It looked like he was just sleeping again.
It was another hour before they were at the pass at the top of the canyon. Liz really was alright – Max had spent his energy insuring that. Jeff had made two trips, the first one dropping off his gear, the second one going back for Max, who he carried for almost a quarter mile. It was nightfall before they’d improvised shelters, the girls in the small tent, Max and Jeff in a shelter Jeff had improvised out of one of Max’s space blankets. Jeff laid Max in the shelter to sleep and the other three fixed a cold dinner of freeze dried macaroni and cheese. Jeff watched Liz check Max tearfully about every five minutes, alternating looking apprehensively at him with berating herself for having yelled at him.
“That,” said Nancy to her husband, “… apparently was the lover’s first quarrel..”
“Please – friends first quarrel…”
Nancy looked at him and her eyebrow went up.
“OK,” he conceded, “good friends first quarrel.”
Nancy’s eyes held his.
“OK, OK, … boyfriend and girlfriend’s first quarrel.”
Nancy smiled and took another bite of cold macaroni and cheese.