Vince had shown me how to splint a leg once at Whispering Cedars. I brought home a wild bunny, which I’d found the neighbor’s fat farm cat pawing at the edge of the north hayfield, near a copse of aspens. I didn’t intervene right away. At first, I watched what I’d been taught was a natural cycle of life, a predator that had caught its prey, but then there’d been a stirring in me, in my guts, and I quickly realized I couldn’t allow him to continue. Maybe it had been the way he was toying with the bunny, swatting it back and forth, then bringing his paw down like a hammer. I couldn’t sit idly by and allow it to be killed and eaten, no matter how much of a natural cycle of life it was.
I’d been carrying a pocket full of flat quarter-sized stones that I picked out of a wash that ran through the field. (I used to zing them at trees and fence-posts, that sort of thing, and got pretty good at it.) I let one fly at the cat’s rump, not enough to hurt him, just enough to send him darting into the aspens.
The bunny crawled feebly away as I approached, its eyes wide, body heaving, but only made it a few feet or so before stopping. Its left front leg splayed at an odd angle. I whispered soothingly to it like I did with the horses and cows, coming around so my shadow wouldn’t fall overtop and scare it. I gently slid my hands under the furry body, cradled it to my chest. The legs kicked a few times until I began to rub its back.
Like the bunny was a baby in my arms, I carried it back to the big shop beside the house where Vince was sharpening a chainsaw with a file. He told me that I should’ve left it out in the field, and then he went back to work. I looked down at the furry body in my arms and turned to trudge off, my shoulders slumped, more than a little disappointed.
“Bring him over to the workbench,” sighed Vince. “I got something that might help.”
“How do you know it’s a he?” I said, turning around, uplifted. He’d only seen it from ten feet away.
“You ask all the tough questions, you know that, Tanner,” he said. “Here, put him down on this horse blanket. I’ll show you how to make a splint. You never know, you might need to make one someday.”
There on that mountain slope, far, far away from Vince’s workshop or a hospital or any civilization, it seemed that the “someday” Vince spoke of had arrived. The more I gazed around, the more I felt like we’d traveled back in time to a prehistoric world, untouched by humankind’s hand. And there I was, about to make a splint.
Simon and I silently headed down to the debris field and began combing through it, pretending not to search for Carol’s remains while we searched for splint material. As we did, the others stayed sitting on the rock, staring vacantly at us.
I found a large branch from a maple tree with smaller branches shooting off, which must’ve come along with us because there were no maple trees anywhere in sight. I broke off two of the thinner, straighter branches, and gave one to Simon. We each denuded them as we hiked back up the slope to rejoin the others.
When I told Conroy we wanted to splint his leg, he agreed, but said we first needed to set the bone properly, which he would help us do. Grimacing, Conroy slowly reached into his pocket and took out the Swiss Army knife that he always carried with him.
Anna and Tabby moved away, giving us room. Conroy handed me the knife and told me to cut the cargo pants from the hip down, so I opened the blade and carefully made a small cut and ran the blade all the way down through the cuff of his pants.
Conroy’s face was a mask of pain; every little movement must’ve hurt like hell. A jagged piece of his femur protruded from his flesh, looking worse out in the daylight than it had in the van. Anna groaned and turned away. Tabby shook her hands in the air like the sight of it had twanged her nerves.
Simon took a bottle of water out of his gym bag. He began to slowly pour it on the wound, washing away the congealed blood. It mingled with the water, turning it a roseate color, which pooled on the rock under Conroy’s leg. The wound was ugly, and I knew setting the bone would be excruciatingly painful. There was no doubt about that, and no way around it.
Anna and Tabby gave us some more room. Colby got up and began to limp down to the debris.
“Where are you going?” I said.
“I ain’t watching this,” he said over his shoulder.
“Don’t go too far,” I said.
“Who made you big kahuna?”
“Boys, you need to close this wound up,” said Conroy. His words were like an order from a man who was used to leading others into dangerous situations, like he had as a Marine sergeant in Iraq. I’d seen his medals, the photos in his album. And I’d even heard a few stories when two vets who he’d served with visited Halton House one Saturday afternoon a few months back––Big Trudgoen with his icy blue eyes and Ruiz with his prosthetic arm and shrapnel-scarred face. Conroy’s face was getting paler by the moment. Blood vessels in his right eye had ruptured, leaving it almost completely red. I’d never seen anyone in such rough shape. The lower half of his leg still lay at its odd angle, splayed out from his body, which made me think again of that bunny’s leg.
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” said Simon, voice tiny.
“You’ll be fine,” whispered Conroy, then shut his eyes and fell back to lie motionless.
Simon looked panicked. “Oh, shit––did he just . . .”
“Passed out,” I said.
I handed the knife to Tabby, then wiped sweat from my eye. “Tabby, help Anna cut the towel into strips,” I said.
Anna picked up the towel off Simon’s gym bag.
“Hope you washed that thing?” I said.
Simon and I both kneeled on either side of his broken leg. “Okay, move his calf to the left until I tell you to stop,” I said.
“Ugh, this is way ugly,” said Simon, glancing away.
“If we don’t do this, he might lose his leg,” I said. “Might even die.”
Simon gingerly took hold of Conroy’s calf.
As soon as I rested my hands on it, I felt spasms pulsing through his leg like electric currents were zapping him. I tightened my hold in hopes to lessen them, but it didn’t work. They only increased.
I looked at Simon and said, “Okay, on three.” He gave a nod. On three we started to delicately shift his calf to the left, blood dribbling from the wound. Conroy grunted in unconscious stupor and his fingertips reflexively raked the rock. The bone slowly sunk back into the purplish flesh as we straightened his leg until it was in line with his thigh.
Without even having to ask her for them, Tabby handed us the denuded branches that she’d cleaned off with water. I placed one on either side of his leg.
Simon and I then proceeded to tie them tightly into place with strips of towel.
When we finished, Conroy was still unconsciousness. Far from ideal, best we could do.
“How’d you learn how to do that?” asked Anna, a bit of awe in her voice. “I mean, I took Level One First Aid, but I never learned anything like this.”
“On the farm,” I said.
Colby climbed onto the rock, carrying a long stick. When he saw the splint, he said, “Can’t just leave it like that.”
“It’s all we can do right now,” I said, “until we find a . . .”
“A what? A hospital? Ain’t no hospital, man. Look around,” he said, whirling around dramatically in a circle. “We’re a long, long way from home. Long way––you better believe that.”
“Enough with the hysterics,” snapped Simon.
“I’m being real, that’s all,” said Colby.
“There’s no one going to show up, is there?” said Anna.
“See, see what you did?” said Simon.
“There’s got to be people around here somewhere,” said Tabby, turning toward the forest.
Everyone became gravely silent as Anna searched our faces for support. I knew Colby was right. I hated it. But he was right. I thought everyone else must know, too, but then I watched enough TV to know that shock does strange things to people.
“What about him?” said Anna, squeezing her uncle’s hand.
Tabby rubbed Conroy’s arm, but he didn’t budge or even make a peep. And I thought back to the time I crashed my dirt bike and broke my arm, and how my entire body felt paralyzed. I figured that was how Conroy would feel for a little while. And my broken arm hadn’t been nearly as bad a break as Conroy’s leg.
“I don’t think anyone’s coming, Anna,” I said. “Even if they do . . .” I looked away.
“What’s that mean?” said Anna, searching faces again.
“That means the locals might not be friendly,” said Colby. “Might be some mean, nasty types. Just like in King Kong. Real savages.”
“Okay, so what then?” said Tabby. “What do we do?”
No one answered.
“Do you have your phone?” I said.
Anna rooted through her purse. “Yes, yes. It’s still on. Everything else fell out except the phone.” She pulled out her iPhone and held it up like it was some large, precious jewel, its silver casing glinting in the peculiar red sun.
“That’s just great,” said Colby, slapping his thighs, “we gonna die while listening to crappy retro.”
“Oh, and this,” added Anna, and lifted out one of her fruit-and-nut bars.
“Are you getting a signal?” I said, a spark of hope lifting my spirits.
Shaking her head, she said, “No, no, nothing.”
“Your phone ain’t gonna work here,” said Colby, scoffing.
A bluff nosed above a patch of gnarly trees a ways up the mountainside. “See that rock bluff up there? Maybe we can pick up a signal on your phone.”
“I say we all stay right here,” said Colby, pouring some water on a piece of towel. “Staying put is what you’re supposed to do.” He began to wipe his Nikes clean.
“Great way to ration the water,” said Simon. “Carol’s dead. We’re lost. And you’re cleaning your prized fucking shoes!”
“What do you want me to do, man? Huh. You tell me ’cause I got no idea.”
“I think Colby’s right,” said Anna.
“You just said yourself we’re a long way from home. Feel that chill in the air,” I said. The air had grown noticeably cooler over the last hour. “The sun’s dropping and we’re on the slope of a mountain. It’s going to get colder. We need to find shelter. And we still need to build a stretcher.”
“Build a stretcher?” said Colby. “Ain’t nothing to build a stretcher with.”
“Why do you always have to be so pessimistic?” said Tabby.
“You mean realistic––big difference––and why you got to cut your hair like a boy?” He said, pointing the stick at her head.
“Screw you, jackass,” said Tabby. “It’s called a gamine cut.”
“There’s material up there,” I said, nodding to the mountain. “We can get what we need and check for a signal at the same time. But we need to move now.”
“He’s right,” said Conroy, his voice low and weak. He’d come to and propped up on his elbows again. He looked even rougher than before, which I would’ve thought impossible if I hadn’t been seeing it with my own two eyes.
Anna leaned over and hugged his shoulders. Tabby motioned for the bottle of water and Colby handed it to her. She poured some into his mouth, water running down his chin. Conroy turned one way and then the other as if he was trying to get his bearings.
I could tell he was lost. He had no idea what to do. Would anybody? One thing he did do, though, was remain calm and composed. It was a quality that I admired greatly. My Uncle Hanker had that way about him also. From the stories I’d heard about my father, he had it too. I figured the military instilled that in them, or maybe some were simply born with it, like a person inherited a trait or an eye color from their ancestors.
Conroy asked Anna to try 911 on her iPhone. Nothing. He asked her to try text messaging. Still nothing. Finally, he asked her to try the Internet. She tried for a minute while we all watched anxiously, but again there was nothing. He asked us to all gather around. We formed a semi-circle with those three strange planets as a backdrop. “I don’t know what happened or where we are,” he said. “But you’ve all handled this remarkably well.”
“None of this makes sense,” said Anna, her voice wavering.
“No, no, I’m not about to lie and say it does,” he said. “We’re going to need to work together if we want to make it out of this.”
Colby jumped up, tossed his arms in frustration, and thrust the stick up at the planets––angrily and defiantly––like the world had been unfair and he wasn’t prepared to take it anymore. “Get home,” he said. “Any of you seen planets like that before?”
“Saturn has rings around it,” said Simon. “And also Uranus, or maybe it’s Neptune.”
“Yeah, yeah, he’s right. Saturn does have rings,” said Anna, lifting her head from her uncle’s shoulder with a wild, false look of hope on her face. Tears had streaked channels on her muddy cheeks.
“None of it matters right now. We need to find shelter––yesterday,” I said louder and more forcefully than I’d intended. As though to bolster my point, a stiff gust suddenly swept down the mountain, raising goosebumps on my arms. “That sun’ll be gone in a few hours.”
“Always trying to be the shot caller,” said Colby, slashing the stick back and forth in the air.
“Enough,” said Conroy. “Tanner’s right. The temperature will continue to drop. We need to find shelter or we risk hypothermia.”
“We might be popsicles before morning,” said Simon. He picked up two rocks and swiped them together a few times. If he was trying for a spark, he didn’t have any luck.
Conroy turned to me and nodded toward the mountain. “How long you figure to climb to that bluff?”
I thought about it a moment, and then said, “Maybe an hour. Less to come back.”
“Okay, good, good,” said Conroy weakly. “Let’s try for a signal before we head to the forest. Might not get another chance.”
“I’ll build a stretcher,” I said, and then looked at the others. “We’ll build a stretcher.”
Colby shook his head, like he thought it all bad.
“I’ll go with him,” said Simon. He tossed the rocks down and stood up.
Anna handed me her iPhone. I put it in the pocket of my sweatpants. “Here, take this too,” said Anna, giving the fruit-and-nut bar to Simon. “You might need it.”
“I ain’t letting you two meatballs go by yourselves,” said Colby. He turned and strode past us and began up the slope. “Well, we doing this?” he yelled over his shoulder.
“What about your shoes?” said Simon after Colby.
Colby flipped him the bird and kept walking.
I was about to say the three of us should stick together when Conroy shook his head tiredly, like he didn’t want me to try to argue a point with Colby, then laid back again and shut his eyes.
“Hang on, one of you should stay with us,” said Anna desperately.
“I can go with you, Tanner,” said Tabby, stepping forward. She was serious. Simon shrugged his shoulders like he was saying why not. He tossed the fruit-and-nut bar to Tabby and gave me his gym bag with the water bottle inside.
Anna told us to be careful. Without another word, Tabby and I began to follow Colby up the grassy slope. He hadn’t slowed his step whatsoever, his head tilted back in that defiant way of his. Only this time it was directed at the mountain as if it had been solely responsible for our misfortune. And that was how we started off.