The others—those she’s met, anyway—seem capable, and very loyal to their commanding officer.
Her internal musings are interrupted by Montoya, who, with a rakish grin and a flourishing bow, ushers her inside the house. The interior is over warm, given the bitterness of the outside air, and she pauses for a moment as the flush of warming blood hits her tanned skin, painting her in a rosy hue. Montoya notices the flush and, mistaking the reason for it, tips the striking Vet a wink, which is abruptly cut off as cool blue eyes laser into hers.
“I’ll…um…you know…just go over….there….”
The young corporal is gone with a speed that surprises even her commander. Allen tries hard to keep a smile from her lips as she rapidly deduces the reason for the young woman’s alacrity. It’s a failed effort as those same blue eyes move to meet her own, twinkling with wry amusement. Allen covers her mouth and laughs, shoulders shaking with mirth.
“Dakota?”
Koda swings around to see a handsome, well-built man standing just inside the doorway, his dark eyes wide with surprise.
“Manny?”
The young man’s face breaks into a beaming grin and he crosses the room in three long strides, arms wide. The two tightly embrace for long seconds while the others, bemused, look on. Finally, Manny pulls away and looks up. “Damn, woman, when are you gonna stop growing?”
“You’re just shrinking, sprout,” Dakota replies, reaching up and scrubbing her hand over the bristles of his buzz-cut.
Ducking his head, the younger man smiles ruefully and rubs his own hand over his scalp, remembering when his hair was as long, glossy and lush as Dakota’s. Then he stiffens and the smile drops from his face. “Koda? Your family?”
“They’re fine, Manny. As are yours. Mother told me they’d been talking on the CB.”
Manny lets out a breath of relief. “Thank God. I tried to contact them, but the phones are gone.” He looks up at her, face wreathed in sorrow. “I’m sorry about Tali, Koda. She was a good person.” He clears his throat. “I tried to make it for the funeral, but we were on maneuvers.”
Dakota smiles. “It’s okay, hankashi. She knew you loved her, and that’s what counts, right?”
Sighing, Manny nods, then turns at the sound of his commander clearing her throat. A slight blush colors his skin. “Sorry Colonel. This is Dakota, my shic’eshi.”
“Cousin, right?”
The younger man grins. “That’s right. See, you’re learning!”
Allen chuckles.
“We practically grew up together. I haven’t seen her or her family in, what is it now, four years?”
“About that,” Dakota agrees.
“Good. I’m glad I could help get the two of you back together then.” Allen waves at her junior. “Why don’t you show your cousin where she’ll be bunking for the night. We’re leaving for the base first thing in the morning.”
Before Manny can respond, the front door bursts open to admit a florid faced young man wearing Lieutenant’s stripes. “Corporal, that little girl we found, I can’t stop the bleeding.”
Allen nods, already throwing her coat back on. “Alright, let’s see what we can do.”
Dakota steps between the two. Allen looks at her, eyebrow raised.
“Maybe I can help.”
Maggie continues to stare.
“You have any medics?”
Allen shakes her head. “Just pilots. We’ve got basic first aid training, but not much more than that.”
“Then I’m the best you’ve got for now.” She holds up the triage kit she always carries with her. “I know my way around the human body pretty well.”
Allen smiles, relieved. “I’ll take that offer. C’mon.”
5
They walk along a shoveled and salted pathway bracketed by several heavily armed soldiers who take up positions along the walk, ever vigilant for intruders. Bypassing the first small cottage, they come to the second just to its right, and Koda follows the colonel inside.
The house is stuffed to the veritable rafters with hollow-eyed refugees, all women and girl-children. It is very warm inside and smells of despair and too many bodies packed too tightly together. The rescued women shuffle out of their way like zombies, making a path to a door along the narrow hallway. Opening the door, Allen gestures Kota to precede her.
The stench of putrescence is overpowering, but Koda, having smelled far worse in her life, keeps her face carefully neutral as she walks over to the small cot upon which a young girl, no more than four, lays.
Her dark, almond eyes are huge and glassy with a fever that paints clown spots of color high on her already ruddy cheeks. Her long, black hair is matted with sweat and dirt, and she stirs restlessly, further tangling the sheet that tries in vain to cover her tiny body.
“She was found….” Maggie starts, but quiets at Dakota’s upheld hand.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Koda murmurs, looking down into eyes so large that they seem to swallow the youngster’s face whole. “Not feelin’ so good, huh?”
The girl shifts her gaze, not looking so much to Dakota as through her. Deep, dark, and almost insanely calm pools of helplessness and hopelessness sear into the vet, touching off a sparkstone of rage deep inside. She fights it down with everything she has, keeping her gaze gentle and warm as she can make it.
The girl is Cheyenne. This she can tell by the shape of her face and the color of her skin. “My name is Koda,” she murmurs in the girl’s own language. “And I’m going to help make you feel better, okay?”
The girl blinks slowly, a tiny spark of surprise shining in the depths of her glassy, huge eyes.
Dakota responds with a small smile. “Can you tell me your name, little one?”
“He’kase,” the girl whispers, voice cracked and dry. Allen murmurs in surprise. It’s the first time the girl has spoken since they found her two days ago. Dakota shoots the colonel a look, then gazes back down at her tiny patient.
“I’m happy to meet you, He’kase,” she intones softly.
The young girl’s eyes widen as Dakota bends slightly forward, causing her medicine pouch to slip past the buttons of her shirt. A small, pudgy arm reaches up to brush trembling fingers reverently against the deerhide pouch, causing it to swing slightly.
Dakota smiles. “Can you do me a favor, He’kase?”
The little girl nods somberly.
Reaching up, Koda slips the pouch over her head and presses it into the girl’s hand. “Can you keep this safe for me? I don’t want it to get in the way when I look at your leg, okay?”
He’kase nods again, eyes shining with a light that goes beyond the fever eating at her bones. She holds the pouch tight against her chest, covering it with both hands.
“Thank you.”
Stepping down to the foot of the cot, Dakota gently lifts the sheet away from He’kase’s legs. The high, powerful smell of raging infection wafts out from beneath the sheet, causing Maggie to cough softly and turn away for a long moment. She turns back to see Dakota eyeing her, and tries out a weak smile. “I’m okay.”
Dakota looks at her for a moment longer before finally returning her attention to her patient.
He’kase’s left thigh is swollen, taut and shiny. Dakota tenderly unwraps the blood encrusted bandage and pulls it away, exposing the wound. The young girl moans in pain, but keeps remarkably still, her trust in Dakota plainly evident.
There is a grotesque starburst of black, purple, red and green surrounding what can only be a bullet hole, black and charred against her tender flesh. The wound seeps blood and a thick green pus that eats into the flesh beyond.
Dakota feels the rage flash through her again, a raging see of red, but she tamps it down with savage intent, her fingers gentle against He’kase’s skin. She can feel a weak, thready pulse both behind the knee and in the foot, the thinks that there’s a fair chance to save the leg if the wound can be properly drained and cleansed.
After another moment, she replaces the sheet, and smiles up at the somber child. Reaching down, she hefts her kit, unbuckles the straps, and looks inside for what she needs. A vial of clear liquid sits close by a number of syringes. She removes both vial and syringe and sets them on the table next to the cot.
“Sweetheart, I’m going to give you some medicine. It will help take the pain away, and it might make you sleepy, but that’s okay.”
He’kase’s eyes move from the syringe to Dakota and back again. She swallows once, then nods her quiet acceptance. She doesn’t even flinch when the needle pierces her skin and the stinging fluid burns its way into her muscle.
Disposing of the syringe, Dakota walks again to the head of the cot and, smiling slightly, she tenderly brushes the thick, sweaty bangs from He’kase’s forehead. After a moment, the girl’s eyes close and she falls into a deep, troubled sleep, the medicine pouch cradled safely between her hands.
Maggie quietly approaches, laying a hand on Dakota’s shoulder. She can feel the anger coursing through the tall vet, an anger she knows all too well. Straightening to her full height, Dakota looks down at the Air Force Colonel, her face a stony mask.
“We found her inside a ranch house about five miles south of here,” Allen begins. “Her family, what was left of it, were butchered, like cattle.” She takes in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly, trying to cool her own rage. “We found her halfway underneath what we assumed to be her father. He was obviously trying to protect her, and I can only guess that those bastards thought they’d done their job. By the time we got there….” She sighs again. “She was already like this. We did the best we could, but….” Her hands lift, as if in supplication to an uncaring god.
“I’ll need some help.”
“I can….”
“No, you’ve got a camp to run. If you could get Manny? He used to help me in the clinic when he was younger. I don’t think he’s forgotten what to do.”
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