Chapter Twenty-Three

Cold. Heavy wind. Darkness. Mosquitos.

Absolutely awful.

With our clothes sopping wet, and mud caking my shoes, right up to my calves, we sat in a small clearing on the edge of the forest. My stringy hair smelled like rotten seaweed, and I shivered so hard that it hurt my collarbones, one of which, according to Royce, was absolutely broken again.

“Damn it. Shivering is painful,” I said.

Royce grimaced. “I feel responsible.”

“You are the one that did it in the first place, I guess.”

He made a face. “Not that. I mean, I should have put full titanium plates in there, but I didn’t want to traumatize the bone even more. Plus, it would have left you with weird lumps in your chest, and I would have had to make new cuts in a different place to put the tags back in again later.”

“None of that sounds good. I’m just going to live in the Undergrid so that you can keep your hands off my bones.”

“I also wasn’t banking on you trying to swim the English Channel,” he said.

“Well if you would try to drown less, that wouldn’t be such a problem,” I said.

Royce put his head down, embarrassed, or sad, or maybe both. Got the feeling he wasn’t used to being rescued.

“Look, you wouldn’t be out here in the first place if it weren’t for me. Least I can do is keep you from dying,” I said.

“I just need to get this fire going, and then we’ll all feel a lot better. Hard to think with hypothermia setting in,” he said.

We hadn’t made it that far into the woods, but it would have to be far enough. With everyone soaking wet, the strong winds blowing through the trees made the humid cold unbearable.

“Fire is going to be dangerous,” Gavin said. “No way to hide the smoke.”

“No choice. You want to make it through the night, or not?” Royce said.

“I was thinking the same thing—if they’re looking for us, won’t they know exactly where to go?” I said.

“Cross your fingers and hope that they’ll think it’s a small fire from a lightning strike,” Royce said. “Plus, once there’s a fire going, I can cook some of this fish. Food will help us keep up our strength, get us over the hill tomorrow.”

“I still can’t believe you managed to catch fish that fast,” I said.

Before we’d left the beach, Royce used a stick to spear a couple fish—stab stab, and within minutes we had food.

“Old habits die hard. Normally wouldn’t see that many fish close to the shore. Probably agitated from all the waves. Piece of cake,” he said.

Good thing, since we’d lost most of our small food supply. We might be half drowned, but at least we wouldn’t be starving.

My survival skills were way more applicable to the urban jungle—drop me in any city, and I’d find my way around, make a few bucks, start a new business without any problem. Out here in the woods? Beyond out of my element.

And beyond miserable.

Gavin’s face was blank, but I knew he was just as unhappy. We are not the outdoorsy type. My bedroom back at Jin Tower seemed like from some other lifetime I’d only dreamed about.

“Do you know how to start a fire by rubbing sticks together or something?” I said.

Royce shook his head, his face flashing in the glow from our single flashlight. “Not really. I mean, I did it when I was kid, on camping trips. But in this weather, it’s so wet, it wouldn’t work.” He held a small torch. “I put this in our medical supplies—never know when you might need to cauterize something.”

Since the odds of the thing needing to be cauterized pointed to me, the fact that he’d brought along a small blowtorch was disturbing as hell.

“Great. That’s what I call a good time—a cauterization party,” I said.

“We’re lucky neither of you had any open fractures—or I would have needed to cauterize something,” he said. “Once I get this fire going, I’ll need to see what I can do about your collarbone and Gavin’s hand.”

“I can manage,” Gavin said.

“Sorry dude, but I can’t let it sit like that. You might lose circulation in your hand—I have to reduce some of the fractures.”

“It can’t wait?” he asked.

“Sorry. There’s pain medication in the part of my medical kit that survived. I’ll give you some before I do it.”

“No. I’m the best at security. I need to stay alert. There could be patrols, and if nothing else, there are animals that might think we’d make a nice snack. Especially if we’re cooking.”

What the hell lived out here? I'm not a naturalist, I had no idea what lived on islands. Not that I didn’t think Gavin could wrestle a bear and win, but I wouldn’t want to bet on what body parts he might lose in the process.

“You sure? It’s going to hurt like hell,” Royce said. “Your hand’s broken in at least five places, maybe more.”

“I’ll survive.”

“Feel free to send all the drugs my way,” I said.

“Good, because pushing your clavicle back into place isn’t going to feel great either. I need to stabilize your chest somehow—I’d hate for you to start developing bone necrosis,” he said.

“Let’s just pretend like there are no potential side effects to this, shall we?” I said. “How are you doing? You’re the one that nearly drowned.”

Hard to tell in the dark, but I thought he smiled. “Glad you care,” he said.

“I spent all that effort pulling you out of the maelstrom. You better not die on us.”

“My chest still hurts—can’t tell if it’s just lungs or a cardiac problem. Stomach hurts too—think I swallowed a bunch of seawater, which is not good. Once I get you guys stabilized and we eat, I need to take a shot of antibiotics, maybe give myself a boost of something to reduce a possible electrolyte imbalance, and lay down. Then I think I’ll be okay,” he said.

“I don’t know what half of that means, but all of it sounds bad. Don’t push it. Stop if you feel like something’s wrong. If we lose you, we’re all extra screwed,” I said. “And, I’d miss your stupid face if you were dead.” Couldn’t believe that came out of my mouth, but I really was worried about him. He could be seriously ill—seemed like it might be easy to misdiagnose yourself.

“Shoot, Jin, you’re going to make me blush over here.”

“I might be delirious or something.”

Royce leaned down, blowing on the little fire until flames sprang up. Impressive, considering the damp fuel. He’d shredded some bigger pieces of wood to find drier material on the inside. I preferred the kind of fire that came to life with the push of a button in my fireplace.

“Nice job,” Gavin said.

As the fire got bigger, I saw everyone more clearly, and we looked like a bunch of drowned rats.

“You know what else we should do?” Royce said. “Take off our clothes. We need to dry off, or we’ll never get warm.”

I laughed. “Good one, Royce.”

With his good hand, Gavin started taking off his shirt. “He’s right. We should dry our stuff by the fire.”

“Seriously Jin, I’ve seen it all, get over it already,” Royce said.

“Gross.” Sitting around in Royce’s wet sweat suit that smelled like fermented ocean wasn’t a pleasing option either. Couldn’t win.

“Here, you both have broken bones. Let me help you out of your clothes,” Royce said.

“Extra kinky,” I said and he glared at me.

“Do you want help or not?”

“I’m keeping my underwear on.”

Royce stripped off his shirt and pants and hung them on a branch near the fire. He left his boxers on, thank god. It was no wonder he had trouble getting a life jacket to fit him—his biceps were the size of my head, and his pecs looked like giant ham hocks. Like muscles on top of muscles. Not my type of physique.

“How much freaking time do you spend at the gym?” I said

He smirked and flexed. “Everyone needs a hobby. And it comes in handy when I need to move bodies by myself.”

I wasn’t even going to think through all the possible ramifications of that sentence.

Then he went to Gavin and helped him out of his shirt and pants. Took a little bit of effort—wet leather is stubborn. Once Gavin was down to his underwear (nice black silk boxers), Royce came to me.

Before taking off my shirt, he pulled down the neckline and looked at my upper chest. He slipped one hand down my shoulder blade to stabilize my back before he started prodding my collarbone. I winced when he hit the spot where it was obviously sticking out.

“Shit. That’s almost all the way avulsed. Lucky it didn’t go through the skin. You need surgery again,” he said. “Damn it, I should have screwed those plates in after I made that one cut extra wide. That wandering marrow tag really caused a big issue.”

“Great, because that’s exactly what I wanted. Yet another surgery.”

“Obviously that’s not going to happen for awhile. There’s a bunch of gauze in my medical kit. Not ideal, but that arm needs to be bandaged and held in a sling,” he said.

“Just as long as I can still fly those drones.”

“Arm stays immobile until then. It will hurt a lot less too, if you keep it still. Let’s get you out of those clothes, then I want to deal with Gavin before I make you a sling.”

“Sure you don’t need to take care of yourself first?” I said. I got the feeling Royce was running off pure adrenaline. He came closer to death than either of us. Broken bones suck, but not breathing seemed like a bigger problem.

“I won’t be able to relax until both of you are situated. Especially Gavin’s hand. It’s looking kind of dusky.”

Yikes. If Gavin lost a hand, we really might need to move to the Undergrid. I’d make sure he got the best bionic replacement possible, but the thought of him losing a limb for me made my soul sick.

“Relax your shoulders so I can slip this off,” he said and eased the shirt over my head. I appreciated the gentleness of his movements, but it still hurt as my collarbone edges rubbed against each other. I barely noticed when he took off my pants because I was distracted by the chest pain.

I was wearing my own underwear—nice bra and panties, so I had that going for me, and being naked near the fire was surprisingly comfortable. Good to be outside of those stinky wet clothes.

“Come close to the fire so I can see what I’m doing,” Royce said to Gavin after he’d finished hanging up our clothes.

You know how they say that when you’re nervous you should imagine the audience in their underwear? I don’t think the same suggestion applies to your doctor, because this whole situation was extra ridiculous. All of us there, naked by the fire, stranded on an island, hiding in the woods from some evil company. Just a normal Sunday.

Gavin scooted closer to the flames. In the light, it looked even worse than I thought—swollen, discolored, fingers pointing the wrong ways. I felt sick. Ultimately, it was my fault. I didn’t bring the waves that did it, but I was the one that put us in the path of the storm.

“You sure about this? This will be a lot more pleasant if I sedate you first,” Royce said.

How I wanted Gavin to agree with Royce, but I already knew his answer.

Gavin nodded. “I need to be alert.”

“Okay. Lay down for me. I’ll try to be quick.”

I came around to the other side and used my better arm to take his uninjured hand, lacing our fingers together.

Royce eyed me, making sure I wasn’t using the fractured shoulder.

“Try not to break her hand too,” Royce said to Gavin.

Oh. He was afraid of how hard Gavin might squeeze me, because it was going to hurt so much. If he did break my hand, I definitely deserved it, but I still wished I could grab some drugs out of Royce’s bag and force them on Gavin, prevent him from suffering more.

Wasn’t going to happen.

I watched as Royce carefully examined Gavin’s hand in the firelight. Gavin grimaced as Royce touched especially sensitive, and he hadn’t even started doing anything aggressive yet. I wished I could switch places with him.

“I’m going to do your fingers first, make sure I can get blood flow restored to your digits. Then I’ll try to get your wrist back at a good angle before try to splint the whole thing,” Royce said.

“Do what you have to do,” Gavin said.

Even though his face was professional, a neutral mask, I saw the regret in Royce’s eyes. He didn’t want to inflict that kind of pain on Gavin. It was cruel and unusual, even for Royce.

When Royce wasn’t looking, I stroked Gavin’s cheek with my bad arm, silently trying to tell him that it was going to be okay. Maybe I was really trying to tell myself that, but I think he appreciated the gesture because he smiled briefly.

Then Royce started cracking bones. One finger at a time, quick snaps, then small wiggles until each finger was straight again.

Gavin didn’t make a sound, but he closed his eyes tight, his hand grabbing mine so hard that I actually did start worrying that he might break something. But I didn’t care. He could crush every bone in my hand if he had to.

“You’re doing great,” Royce said. “Almost done.”

I got the feeling he warned him because the thumb was next. Bent at a severe angle, it looked like the worst break.

With a quick snap, Royce moved it back into place, and I felt Gavin’s whole body contract, struggling not to move. He let out a small grunt, but managed not to scream.

Royce patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry buddy. That’s the worst. I’m going to wrap the whole thing, adjust your wrist, and tie it all down in that position. Then we’re done, okay?”

Gavin nodded. “I’m ready.”

Gavin wasn’t crying.

But I was.

Damn.

Broke my own rule about crying in public.

I made a particularly embarrassing sniffling noise and Royce looked at me, realizing I’d finally lost it.

“He’s going to be okay—blood flow looks good now that I’ve reduced all the fractures. After the shock wears off, it should feel better now that everything’s back in place,” Royce said as he started wrapping the hand in layers of gauze.

It must have been true, because Gavin started breathing normally again—he’d been holding his breath that whole time.

“Thanks,” Gavin said quietly.

When Royce was done tying things off, he gave Gavin’s shoulder one last squeeze.

“You’re a braver man than I am. Rest there for a second—if you sit up suddenly you might pass out. Stress reaction,” Royce said.

“I want to help Jin,” Gavin said.

“She’ll have drugs. It won’t be so bad. Stay there.”

“It’s just a sling,” I said. “I’m getting used to it anyway.” That sounded like a lie, but you know what, we needed some positive fantasies.

Royce busied himself in the bag of medical supplies, his muscular figure backlit by the fire as he filled a syringe and pulled out more gauze.

“Put your back to the tree again,” he said. “I want you sitting up so I can get the position right, move your shoulder blade around.”

“Delightful,” I said as I reluctantly let go of Gavin’s hand and moved back against one of the big tree trunks.

Warmer now at least, I closed my eyes for a second as Royce jabbed the needle in my arm.

I didn’t even complain. Totally worth it. Pain I didn’t even realize I was dealing with started melting away.

“I love you,” I said to Royce, and he laughed so hard that he fell backwards for a second. I started laughing too.

“I’ll enjoy that sentiment for the minute that it lasts. I don’t want you so groggy that your respirations drop. I’m not in any shape to monitor you—this is still going to hurt,” he said.

“Story of my life at this point.”

He came at me again, palpating my shoulder blade, and I was feeling too good to mind that we were in our underwear.

“It’ll just take a minute—need to weave some kind of support system here,” he said.

I sat as still as I could while he threaded the gauze across my chest, under my arm, and around my shoulder in a looping pattern. None if it felt too awful, especially once those drugs hit home. I closed my eyes, letting all of his movements fade into the background.

That is, until he started moving around my collarbone. My eyes flew open, watching as he pushed against my chest.

“I need to reduce the fracture and tie it off hard so that it doesn’t move. Give me five minutes, and it will be over, I promise,” he said.

I nodded, trying to go back to pretending like none of this was happening.

Nope.

Totally failing at that.

When he finally pushed my collarbone back into place, I screamed. Gavin came to my side, grabbing my free hand.

“I told you to stay down,” Royce said.

Gavin didn’t bother responding, holding me while Royce finished lashing my arm into place.

Drugs are great. As soon as Royce stopped actively manipulating my arm, everything was fantastic again. I didn’t care how tired, naked, cold, or hungry I was.

“You guys make quite the pair,” Royce said.

“We should start a band called ‘The One Armed Koreans.’ Guaranteed to be an instant hit,” I said.

“Let me cook the food while you take care of yourself,” Gavin said to Royce. “I’ve still got one good hand.”

My admiration for Gavin soared. I was on meds, and I still felt uncomfortable. All I wanted to do was lay there and have people bring me food. He hadn’t had any drugs, and he was ready to go again.

“You’re ambidextrous?” Royce said.

“I practice everything with both hands.”

Gavin was right-handed—the one that was injured, but he’d trained enough with his left hand, mainly for fighting purposes, that he could do things with either. It was impressive. Meanwhile, I was thankful that my horribly damaged arm was connected to my non-dominant hand.

“Let me clean the fish. You need two hands for that. Then maybe you can cook them while I medicate myself,” Royce said.

With my head dropped back against the tree, I watched him elegantly gut the fish, like it was second nature.

“Your knife skills are scaring me over there,” I said.

Royce laughed. “Like I said. My fishing abilities had a good transfer rate. I can skin things perfectly.”

“You sure you’re not a ax-murderer or something like that?” I said.

He smirked. “We are out in the woods, in the dark. Perfect spot for a horror story.”

“An ax-murderer might be a nice change of pace. Nothing could be scarier than reality.”

“Point taken,” he said, sliding the clean fish onto a big stick, handing it to Gavin. “Sure you can hold this okay?”

“Yes. Take care of yourself. Let us know if you need help. We have a full set of arms between the two of us,” he said.

Gavin held the fish over the fire with his good arm while Royce rummaged in the bag again, filling more syringes for himself.

“You don’t need help?” I said.

Moving slower than before, Royce looked exhausted. Dealing with both of us had taken it out of him.

“Just a few things, and some rest, and I should be okay. Food sounds good,” Royce said.

I watched as he jabbed himself in his massive bicep with a half dozen syringes. I winced in his honor. Some of those needles were big, but he took them without flinching. Not sure who won the prize for biggest badass between the three of us.

“Fish is ready,” Gavin said.

Didn’t know what Royce had given himself, but he looked happier as he took one of the fish from Gavin’s stick and started pulling off chunks of flesh. The three of us sat around the fire, plucking pieces of hot fish from the spear.

“Thank you,” I said. “Both of you. Neither of you for asked for this.”

“Not like you asked for it either,” Royce said. “I’ll be glad when we’re off this damned island, though. All three of us need more sophisticated medical equipment.”

The fish tasted like some of the finest food I’ve ever had. Better than a meal in an exclusive restaurant, or room service from Jin Tower. Hunger and exhaustion will do that for you.

As we gobbled the last bits, Gavin suddenly stood up.

“What’s wrong? Royce said. “Hand bothering you? You can still change your mind about pain relief.”

Gavin ran to the other side of the fire and snagged the knife.

Then I heard it too: rustling in the bushes.

“Don’t move,” Gavin said.

Royce and I both stood up, and I scanned the woods, looking for movement.

Animals? Humans? The sound was so small, it was hard to tell.

Before either of us could say more, Gavin darted into the forest. Royce started to speak, but I put a finger to my lips.

Silence for a few moments, and then someone screamed.

And it wasn’t Gavin.

“Shit,” Royce whispered and started putting on his clothes.

More screams, from different voices.

Then silence.

Footsteps quietly padded back in our direction and Gavin reappeared in the firelight, covered in blood.

“You okay?” I said.

He nodded, pointing at the blood. “This isn’t mine.”

He held the knife casually, like hadn’t just slaughtered half a dozen people.

Royce stood frozen. I’d told him about Gavin’s special skills before, but he’d ever seen it in action.

“You did that with your non-dominant hand?” Royce said.

“I have knife skills too,” Gavin said. “We can’t stay here.”

No, no we could not. I looked at the last of the fish and the warm fire, and then down at my chest, covered in a web of gauze. Then I switched my gaze to the dark woods.

Running through the forest with my arm strapped to my stomach was not how I wanted to spend the evening.

But the other option was even less appealing.

Now for the true sacrifice: I had to get back into Royce’s wet sweat suit.