Uncharted(27)

He pauses. “I’m not sure there’s anything we can do.”

My tears win the battle I’ve been waging; they fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks. “We have an obligation! We can’t just watch him die, Beck!”

Ever-guarded, he watches me weep for a few long seconds. When he finally breaks the silence, there’s an odd look in his eyes, like he’s bracing for the worst.

“How, exactly, would you have me deal with him?”

I breathe deeply, summoning composure. “Tomorrow, once it’s light enough to see clearly, that metal shard has to come out and the leg has to be splinted as best we can manage. I thought maybe we could leave it in until help arrived, but now that we’re here…” I heave in a breath and brush the tears from my face, trying to remember everything I learned in the mandatory first aid courses I took a few years back, during my sailing instructor certification. “If we can restore blood flow to the leg, we’ll have to sterilize the wounds to stop the infection, then suture them closed as best we can. If we can’t get blood flowing again…” I shake my head. “No. I don’t want to even consider that possibility until we absolutely have to.”

Some of the tension eases from his shoulders. Relief flashes across his face. “You want to try to fix him.”

“What? Of course.” I pause, head tilting as I consider him in the growing darkness. “What did you think I was asking?”

He shakes his head, a dismissal.

“Tell me,” I insist.

“I thought…” He blows out a sharp breath. “I thought you were going to ask me to… put him at peace. At rest.”

My eyes widen. “I hope you don’t mean the eternal rest.”

He pauses, then nods reluctantly.

“What kind of person do you think I am?” I explode in disbelief. “You think I’d ask you to kill a defenseless man?”

“No! Christ. I didn’t know what you meant!” he growls. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like I’m talking about murdering a man in cold blood.” His eyes are blank orbs of green, so hard you could bounce quarters off their surfaces. “You can wave around your righteous indignation all you want — it would be mercy, not murder, and you know it.”

I feel my face go pale. “Why are we even talking about this? It’s not happening. Drop it.”

“I’m not the one who brought it up.”

“Well, I’m not the one who took it to Lord of the Flies levels!”

He snorts. “I don’t know if I’m more surprised that you can read, or that you’re still living in such a state of optimistic delusion, despite our current circumstances.”

“Oh, read this!” I flip him off with my middle finger.

He smirks without humor. “Cute.”

“Why can’t you ever just be nice?!”

“Says the girl who just told me to go fuck myself.”

“I—” I flush, marginally chastised. “I—”

He holds up his hands. “Spare me the false apology, will you?”

“Gladly,” I sneer with every ounce of disdain I can summon. “Can we go back to not speaking, now? I’d prefer frozen silence to this conversation any day.”

“Fine by me, princess.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Then stop acting like some valiant prince is going to ride in and rescue you any minute now. This isn’t a fairy tale. There is no happy ending here. And I’m sure as hell not your prince.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

“Good.”

“Good!”

Fuming with anger, we’re both leaning forward into the fire, drawn together by the heat of our argument. I’m so close to the flames, I’m surprised my hair hasn’t gone up in smoke. With effort, I settle back against my tree and slow my breathing to a normal tempo. He leans back against his at the same time, slinging one arm across his knee and staring at me with something like amusement. I’d like nothing more than to smack that expression right off his face.

His smug, superior, annoyingly attractive face.

Ugh! How does he manage to get under my skin so quickly?

Turning my back to him, I shove my backpack into a ball and plunk my head down on top of it. It’s barely dark outside, but I don’t care. If sleep is the only option for escaping his company, I’ll gladly close my eyes and surrender. I just hope I don’t find myself dreaming of green eyes and lush lips and infuriating sparring sessions that leave me breathless with rage and something else.

Something I’m afraid to look at too closely, even in the dim firelight.



I stir awake to the sensation of my frigid body being repositioned against the hard-packed earth. The first thing I become aware of is the biting cold. Every inch of exposed skin feels frozen to the bone. Icy winds whip strands of hair across my face. My eyes sliver open to the dark sky overhead. The stars are concealed by a dense cloud-cover, blanketing the world in pitch black. The fire’s burned out in the gale. Still half-asleep, a weak sound of discontent slides from my lips as large hands shift me onto my side.

“Shh. It’s me.” A familiar male voice hits my ears as a body moves closer. “I heard you shivering.”