Higher Ground by Becky Black (most read books of all time .txt) 📕

“No need.” He should apologize to the people he’d led into danger. “Accepted, though. Thanks,” he added, making Jones look less anxious.

“He’s pretty weak,” Jones said, nodding back at Zach.

Adam stiffened. He’d better not be about to suggest they leave Zach behind.

“Guess we’d better get moving as soon as it’s light. Will you let me take a turn carrying the stretcher?”

Adam grinned and almost wanted to laugh with relief. This was a different Jones. A humbled man. He even looked smaller. One day, Adam would have to get Torres to tell him exactly what had happened in Jones’s group when the first quake struck.

“Of course you can take a turn.” He was a big strong guy. Perfect. “Thanks for the offer. I have to see to Zach now.”

“Okay, good night.”

He left, and Adam hurried back over to Zach.

“Let’s get some water into you.” He held Zach’s head up for him to drink, then gently laid him down again. In a moment, Zach’s eyes closed, and he drifted to sleep. Under the cover of brushing his hair out of his eyes, Adam touched Zach’s forehead to check for signs of him getting hot. No fever. Good. He’d been giving him the antibacterial since they set off hours ago, to keep any infection from taking hold.

He did another check while he was at it, feeling Zach’s abdomen, which still felt soft. Aside from some horrible bruising and several deep cuts, it appeared the broken leg was the only serious injury he’d sustained.

But he was weakening, even so. Some of his cuts had bled a lot before Adam could get to him. Or he could be bleeding in his leg. Adam felt utterly helpless and cursed the day he’d put his trust in Glyn. They should have let Howie stay with them. This was the exact situation the doctor had feared. When Adam caught up to Glyn, he intended to kick that weasel’s ass from here to Earth and back.

Simon brought over a couple of bowls with steam rising from them and spoons resting in them.

“Last of the stew we made for dinner,” he said, handing one to Adam. “Pretty much just the gravy. Call it soup. Try to get some into him.”

“Thanks.” Adam took both bowls and sipped from one without using the spoon. Quite hot still. As Simon left again, he put one bowl down to cool for Zach and sat with the other, started to eat it with the spoon. When he was almost done, he realized Zach’s eyes were open, watching him. He smiled.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got one for you too. Just letting it cool off.”

“Oh, you go ahead,” Zach said. “I like to see a man eat.” He said the last part in a high falsetto, meant to be Korrie, Adam suspected. He laughed, not only at the joke, but that Zach was compos mentis enough to make one. A good sign.

“I think we’ll get to the top tomorrow,” Adam said.

“Even dragging my malingering butt?”

“Even with that, yes. Having Torres’s group join us has really helped. More people to do everything. More people to carry the stretcher so we don’t get so tired. And our people were badly shaken by your accident and the split. This has put new heart in them.”

He finished his stew; it had been the gravy, as Simon said, with only a scrap of meat or vegetables here and there. But it was rich and tasty. He got Zach sitting up, using a couple of backpacks to support him. Zach reached for the bowl, but Adam didn’t let him take it. He’d spill it immediately.

“At least let me hold the bowl for you,” he said, knowing Zach would resist being spoon-fed.

“Okay,” Zach said with a sigh. He got hold of the spoon. Once he had a firm grip on it, Adam moved in closer and Zach began to eat. By the time he’d eaten half the bowl and said he’d had enough, he had as much gravy on his chest as he had in his stomach.

“Honestly,” Adam said, using a cloth to try to get rid of the worst of it, cursing himself for not draping the cloth on Zach in the first place. “I’ll bet Amina makes less mess at mealtimes than this.”

“We should have asked someone with a baby to leave some bibs behind. I’m going to smell of beef stew for the next two days.”

“I’ll see if I can get you into a clean shirt. Well, a shirt with less stew on it. I don’t think we have any clean left. Believe me, stew is only one voice in a chorus of what you smell like. What we all do.”

“True. I think my nose shut down in self-defense several days ago.”

“And with your nose, that must have been a major operation.”

“I don’t have to lie here and be insulted,” Zach said with a mock furious expression. “Oh wait, it appears I do. Carry on.”

Adam laughed and leaned in to kiss him, tasting the gravy on his lips. Zach didn’t raise his arms to put them around Adam. He must be too weak. Tears sprang to Adam’s eyes when he thought Zach might never put his arms around him again. If he died…

He will not die. He’d be fine. Weak, yes, but that might be from the pain and the drugs as much as from his injuries. He was so fine he was lying here cracking jokes and flirting. The thought made Adam smile again. Zach had come a long way in less than two weeks. And not only up a mountain.

* * * *

“Zach,” Adam said. “Wake up. We’re here.”

Zach opened his eyes, trying to pull himself from the hazy world of pain. The stretcher-bearers did their best to be gentle, and he had the painkillers, but the movements still hurt.

“Here? Where?”

Adam looked down at him from where he was carrying the stretcher at the head end. He carried it too much, must be