“No,” Koda replies from between tightly gritted teeth. “Wolverine.”

“Oh, god.” She looks up into her lover’s pain shadowed eyes. “What do we do? What—?”

“It’s alright,” Dakota spits out. “Just clean it as best you can with soap and water and wrap it. I’ll give myself a couple of shots that should take care of it.”

“A couple of shots?? Dakota, did that wolverine have rabies???”

“There wasn’t time to tell. I was too busy trying to keep him from cutting me into filets.” She smiles slightly. “Relax. I have the vaccine here and as long as I take it, I’ll be fine. You know that.”

“Jesus, Dakota! You could have been killed out there!”

The smile disappears from Dakota’s face as if removed with acid. “It was either that, or let Asimov die. I saw a chance. I took it. End of story.”

Kirsten opens her mouth, then closes it with a snap of teeth. This isn’t time to argue, and she knows it. Dakota is in pain, and she concentrates on that, cleansing the wound with as gentle a touch as she can manage. “Jesus,” she whispers as she examines the angrily swollen puncture marks on her lover’s forearm. “Dakota, we need to get you to a doctor.”

“No, we have what we need right here. It would be worse trying to go out in this weather. Believe me, I’ll be fine.”

Kirsten has reservations, a whole ton of them, but pushes them back hard. “Ok,” she says instead, tossing the bloody rag away, “what now?”

“Throw those rags in the fire, then grab the syringe marked ‘rabies’ from my kit. There’s also a bottle of pills in there marked ‘Amoxicillin’. Get those too, and some water.”

By this time, the adrenaline she’s been working on has completely worn off and in its place, violent wracking shivers invade from top to toe, making even her guts clench with the force of the contractions. “You’re…gonna have to…give me…the shot…I think….”

“Whatever you need me to do, Koda. I’ll do it. Just show me how.”

“Hel…p…me l…lay down on my s..s..side.”

With a tenderness that surprises her, she is able to lay her lover on her side, cushioned by the sleeping bag. “Ok, what now?”

“Th…there’s a landmark. Be..between my hip and my asscheek. Almost a triangle…of muscle. Feel it?”

“I…I think so, yes.”

“G..good. Now, pinch up the skin, just…just grab it and pull. Then take the needle and stick it in, like you’re throwing a dart, right into the muscle.”

“I…um….”

“Just do it.”

Taking a deep breath, Kirsten wills her hand to stop shaking and inserts the needle. “It’s in.”

“I can feel it, yes. Now…now pull back a bit on the plunger. Just a little. Check…check for…b…blood. Is there any?”

“N-no. I don’t see any.”

“Good. Now p..p..push the pl..unger in, nice and sm…mooth. Like that, yes. Then remove the needle and clean the puncture with a clean rag to stop the bleeding.”

“Okay, it’s done. It’s not bleeding anymore.”

“P…perfect. You gi..gi..give go..go..good shots, Dr. K-king.”

“Thanks, but that’s the first and last shot I hope to ever give in my life, so we’ll keep that little talent a secret, shall we?”

“Wh-whatever you s..s..say, Doctor.”

“Now, how about those antibiotics? Can you drink some water?”

“I can try.”

Koda sticks out her tongue and Kirsten places the capsules in her mouth, then tilts the mouth of the canteen up to her lover’s lips. Koda takes a few choking swallows, enough to wash down the meds, then turns her head away. “N..no more right now…I’ll just..ch..choke on it.”

“Alright, then. It doesn’t take an MD to see that you’re suffering from exposure and hypothermia. So, Asi and I are going to make a Dakota sandwich and warm you up, whether you like it or not.”

“’s the b..best i..i..idea I’ve h..h..heard all day.”

“It had better be, because it’s the only option you’re getting. Can you try and scoot over a little next to the dog?”

Koda manages a weak half-crawl, and collapses next to Asi, who immediately snuggles against her, back to front. Stripping, Kirsten slips into the bag and presses her warm front against Koda’s ice-cold back, then draws the covers over them all, praying with all that is in her that this will work.

*

For the second time that day, Kirsten awakens to a whine from Asimov. Tension flooding her, she twists within the confines of the blankets and the body pressed against her. “Asi?!”

Whining again, Asi stares past Kirsten, his tongue bright pink and lolling from his mouth, his sides heaving with the strength of his panting.

“Asi? What’s wrong boy? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He continues to look past her, still whining plaintively, and finally Kirsten’s sleep-numbed brain gets the message and she rolls over, and freezes, one hand moving up to cover her mouth. Dakota’s normally bronzed complexion is pale as curdled milk save for two high, clownish spots of color resting on her cheeks. Her entire body is bathed in sweat and suddenly, Kirsten can feel the immense heat radiating from her as from an oven. “Jesus!” she chastises herself as she scrambles from beneath the heavy, sodden blankets, “What was I thinking? How could I have fallen asleep?! Jesus! Koda? Sweetheart? Can you hear me?”

An unintelligible moan is her only response.

Throwing the blankets away from the makeshift bed, she stares in horror at Dakota’s arm. Massively discolored, it is swollen to nearly twice its normal side. The puncture marks constantly ooze bloody drainage mixed with yellow, foul-smelling pus, and, worst of all to Kirsten’s view, long red streaks radiate from the wound up the arm. “Toward her heart,” Kirsten whispers, hand against her own chest. “Oh god. Oh, god. Ok. Ok, Kirsten, think. Think. You can do this.” With a slightly shaking hand, she touches Dakota’s uninjured arm and squeezes, just the tiniest bit. “Dakota? Dakota, can you hear me? Honey, you need to wake up now, please.”

“Ina?” Koda rasps, eyes still tightly closed. Her soaked head thrashes back and forth on the makeshift pillow. “Ina?”

“No, sweetheart. It’s Kirsten. Please, you need to wake up now.”

“Wakinyan he. Wakinyan tuwapiIyuha te.”

“Sweetheart, Dakota,” a harder shake, “honey, wake up. You’re dreaming and I can’t understand you. Please, please wake up.”

” Kohipe, ina,” Koda moans, still thrashing desperately. ” O opa le te. Tali.”

“Dakota! Please!!”

” Ikahe. Waciyeye.”

Kirsten pulls back, wringing her hands. “Ok, ok, you just need to calm down here and not panic. Now, she’s got a fever, and she’s delusional. That’s to be expected, right? So…what do you do for a fever?” She looks around. “Water. Cool water, on a rag. Wipe the sweat away, cool her off. And…aspirin. That’s good for a fever, right? Right. Okay, let’s just get this done.”

Grabbing one of their clean t-shirts and a canteen, Kirsten wets the cloth with the last of their fresh water. “I’ll need to melt some snow to get more,” she tells herself. “It’s gotta be pretty clean out here in the middle of nowhere. I hope.”

Once the rag is fully wet, she brings it to her lover’s face and gently bathes the sweat away, slightly comforted when Dakota immediately stops thrashing and seems to calm beneath her tender touch. “That’s right, sweetheart, just let me help you, ok? You’re gonna be alright. You are. You have to be.”

“Ina,” Koda whispers. “Kohipe, ina.”

“It’s alright, Dakota. It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m right here.” Not sure what else to do, she begins to hum, slightly off key, a tune she’s heard Dakota hum in the past. Even if the tune isn’t exactly right, it seems to reach down into whatever hell Dakota is trapped in, and her labored breathing eases slightly as she seems to fall into a deeper sleep. Continuing to hum, Kirsten gently bathes the sweat from the rest of her lover’s body, leaving the brutally injured arm for last. She doesn’t know if it’s a good or bad thing that Koda shows absolutely no reaction to the cleansing of what has got to be a horribly painful wound.

“Ok,” she says, tossing that rag into the fire and listening to the flames’ hissing protest, “now Aspirin, and more Amoxicillin. Water first, though.” She rises to her feet a bit unsteadily, battling down a wave of dizziness that threatens to take her back down to her knees. “Oh no, you’re not going to get sick too. Not going to happen, so you can just forget that action. Asi? You stay here, boy. I’m going outside to get some snow for water. I’ll be right back.”

Slipping into some dry clothes and wet boots, she grabs the pots from the cooking kit and heads outside. The storm appears to be slowly tapering and Kirsten breathes a sigh of relief over this one bit of halfway decent news. Staying within a pace of the shack, she grabs handfuls of snow and packs it tightly into the three pots she carries. “Okay, this will have to do for now. I’ll just melt it over by the fire and see if I can get Dakota awake enough to swallow it with some pills.”

Satisfied with her course of action, she lifts the pots and heads back into the shack, kicking the door closed behind her. Asi lays full length next to a too-still Dakota, once again offering his warmth. “Thanks, boy,” Kirsten says, bringing the pots over to the hearth. “I’ll check on you and let you out in just a minute, ok? Just got to get some medicine into Koda first.”

The snow quickly melts and Kirsten pours some into one of their drinking cups, then roots through the packs for Aspirin and Amoxicillin. Two caplets of each in hand, she moves over to Koda’s side and sits cross-legged beside her. “Now for the hard part.”

Dakota’s head lolls like a corpse’s as Kirsten gently tries to lift it enough to get the cup to her lips. “Come on, sweetheart, you can do this. We can do this. Please.” Setting the cup down, she opens her lover’s mouth and slips all four caplets on her dry, discolored tongue. Then she retrieves the cup and starts to trickle the water in. Most of it runs harmlessly down Dakota’s cheek and chin. With a sigh, she tries again, this time using her thumb to close her lover’s mouth and one finger to gently stroke her throat, as a mother would when trying to get an infant to swallow formula. “Thank god,” she says when it works. “Oh, thank you, god.”