Sam followed Steve as he cautiously moved in Cherry's footsteps. She was worried about him, the sheen of sweat covering his face and neck along with the pallor of his face and the ever-growing red stain on his side. Reaching out and grasping his shirt collar as he stumbled, she noticed the red trickle moving down his leg.
"You've been hit," Sam whispered, "don't tell me it was just a graze. You're bleeding out."
"I didn't feel anything hit me," Steve said, "but I don't feel good."
"We're nearly on the other side," Cherry called, glancing back at the pair, her eyes widening as they travelled down Steve's form, "Sam is right; you were hit. Just three more blocks, and then we'll have a look."
Sam followed, ever ready to grasp Steve should he stumble again. Finally, they made it to the other side, and Sam quickly pulled his arm over her shoulder, helping him to a long low rock near the space they would have to run across. She watched as he sank painfully to the rock and rested against the wall.
"Take his backpack off, Cherry," Sam said, pulling out her first aid kit, "it may be an experimental bullet that hit Steve."
"Experimental? Is that bad?" Steve asked, sucking in air as Cherry moved the backpack away and slowly lifted his shirt.
"It could be," Sam said, "depends on the kind of bullet."
"All I know is it stings," Steve groaned as Sam washed away the blood and frowned at his wound, "bad?"
"It could have been," Sam said, "but I can get the bullet out. It's right at the top of the wound."
"Then do it," Steve said, "I don't want to bleed out."
"I think that's what it's supposed to make you do," Sam whispered as she went to work, "slowly and thoroughly but without your knowledge. Cherry, find something for him to bite on."
Cherry looked around but could find nothing safe enough for Steve to sink his teeth into, "I'm sorry," she whispered, "there doesn't seem to be anything moveable that he can use."
"Here," Sam said, pulling off her tactical belt and handing it to Steve, showing him an empty space between her gear, "bite on that; it's leather on the other side."
"Your belt," Cherry frowned, "what if you need anything off it?"
"It'll be hanging from his mouth," Sam said, "I'll have access to whatever I need."
Cherry shook her head, threading her fingers around Steve's hand, "I'm here, and we'll get you through this."
"Ready?" Sam asked, meeting Steve's strained expression. He pushed the belt between his teeth and nodded, "I'll be as quick as I can."
Focusing on the wound, Sam pushed her sterilised tweezers around the back of the bullet as it burrowed deeper. She had been right; it was an experimental bullet, and she detested them. This one particularly since it burrowed like a parasite causing pain, anguish and ultimately death wherever it went. Waiting for it to stop as she knew it would, Sam glanced at Steve, whose eyes were shut, and his breathing was shallow and tortured. He was in a lot of pain; it was now or never. Sam tightened her grip and pulled when she felt the bullet stop moving. The metal came away against a sucking sound and a strained cry of pain. Blood gushed over her fingers and down Steve's side. Dropping the bullet and tweezers into a metal dish, she pushed gauze into and over the wound before pouring alcohol over the area. Steve moaned against the pain, making Cherry wince as he crushed her hand in his. Sam applied as much pressure as possible to the wound without causing more damage and pain. Steve groaned once more before inhaling against the belt and panting. Slowly he pulled the belt from his mouth.
"The stinging has stopped," Steve panted, "but has the bleeding stopped."
"I don't know yet," Sam said, "I'm going to check; it may hurt."
Slowly she pulled the saturated gauze from the wound. The blood gushed over her hands before reducing to a trickle.
"It looks like that bullet nicked something," Sam sighed, "I'll have to do something experimental, but it may not hold, and if it does ... not for long."
"What are you going to do?" Cherry asked.
"Ah ... this may sound a little creepy, but I going to use my skin to plug the leak," Sam said, shrugging, "it should give us enough time to get him across this space and hopefully into the mountain to get more help."
"Use your skin?" Cherry whispered, "you're joking ... right, Sam?"
"No, if we are to stop the damage spreading, then I'll have to ... use a layer of my skin to buy us some time," Sam said, as she packed her equipment away and stowed the medical waste, "told you we'd have to use something experimental to sort it out."
"You're not kidding when you say you're designed to survive," Cherry said, shaking her head, "I thought it was a catchphrase or something."
"Cherry, sometimes I wish it were," Sam sighed, "but right now, we need to save his life so we can get you to your celebration."
Sam watched her best friend frown before nodding, "Steve, how are you doing?"
"Thirsty," Steve whispered, "but feeling a lot better now that the bullet is out and you came up with a way of stopping the bleeding."
"You heard all that," Sam grimaced, "sorry about the weirdness."
"Frankly, all that I've seen and heard in the past few days," Steve chuckled, "it fits right in ... can you afford a double layer? One for the inside and the other to close the wound."
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"I ... think I can," Sam said, "good call."
Lifting her t-shirt, she gently peeled away a gauzy layer from her side, slowly opening it and laying across the hole before gently easing it into the wound. Steve bit into her belt once more while groaning. Seeing the skin move in the direction it was needed, Sam pulled a layer from her opposite side and repeated the step to cover the wound; that layer followed the path of the first.
"Seems like there is a lot of damage," Sam said, sighing and looking at her mid-drift, "one more layer," she pealed a third from her stomach. She laid it across the wound entrance, "good ... it's pulling it together. Don't drink too much water ... not yet. We need to get you to the other side."
"Don't you need to bind the wound or something?" Cherry asked, her face pale as she watched the wound seal and the blood stop flowing.
"Unnecessary," Sam said, rubbing the areas where she had pulled from, "it will bind it better than any surgeon."
"You've done this to yourself before," Cherry said, "you've been hurt before, and you've pulled a layer of skin from somewhere else and ... covered the wound."
"Yes," Sam said, nodding as she cleaned away the excess blood, "with the kind of career I've had ... often."
"What exactly do you do?" Cherry asked, confusion and concern mixing as they moved across her face and dripped from her words.
"Mostly classified work, but I can tell you what I've been working on lately," Sam said, glancing around for anything she may have left on the ground, "the elimination of the Tenderhooks."
"Then why are you here with me if that is your mission?" Cherry asked, standing and pacing, "don't tell me it's because you need to protect me."
"Cherry, stop pacing," Sam said, "you're going to be seen, and they can shoot you."
Cherry glared at her as a red light showed on her; Sam called her name as she moved fast across the space, grabbing her friend and spinning her out of the way. Arching her back as the first bullet flew between them, Sam pushed Cherry behind the shield of the stone wall, moving to follow her as the second bullet slammed into her side, taking her to the ground. Sam cried out as Cherry turned to move toward her.
"No," Sam said, easing her fingers along her ribs, "stay out of sight."
"You're hit," Cherry gasped, tears springing to her eyes and flowing down her cheeks, "you need help. This is my fault ... all my fault."
"Cherry, you need to get it together. Get Steve ready to move," Sam hissed as she pulled the bullet from between her ribs and watched the bullet hole heal from the inside out, "remember, I'm designed to survive."
"Cherry," Steve called, pushing to his feet, "grab Sam's backpack. I'm ready," he slowly swung his own onto his shoulders, "we will have to run ... I think."
"You can't run; you've barely got any blood left to run with," Cherry said, swiping at her face, "I cannot lose both my friends."
"You won't," Sam said, "I've spotted a sniper ... you run while I shoot. Steve, throw me my utility belt." Steve tossed the belt; Sam grasped it in midair, "Thanks. Get ready."
Sam pulled her weapon and scope from the belt, quickly attaching them and lining up her shot, "Ready?"
"Yes," Steve and Cherry said in unison, "we're ready."
"Run ..." Sam said, finding her target, "now."
She felt them running by her as the sniper aimed above her; pulling the trigger, she waited until she saw him drop from his nest. Scanning the banks, she found Andris aiming toward the running pair while his brother headed toward the bridge. Pulling the trigger again, Sam waited.
"Damn, why did you have to move?" she muttered, tracking and pulling the trigger once more, "that's more like it."
She tracked the staggering Andris Tenderhook toward the bridge firing again and smiling as his body arched with the impact.
"Sam ..." Cherry called, "come on ... we made it."
Rolling to her feet, with her weapon and ammo in hand, Sam scanned the area; something was in the undergrowth across the water-filled cavern.
"Oh damn," she muttered, turning quickly; Sam ran toward the waiting pair, pushing herself to cover as much ground as possible while the earth at her feet sprayed her legs with incoming gunfire. Cherry screamed as the gunfire moved to the rock face dousing their protective alcove with rock fragments and dust. Sam dove into the nook as more gunfire slammed into sand and stone.
"Everyone okay?" she asked, panting as she pushed into a sitting position.
Two heads nodded in her direction as they sank to the ground for a moment of reprise.
"Okay, we've gotten this far," Sam said, "now ... where is this door, Cherry?"
Cherry pushed to her feet, sliding her hand along the wall until she uncovered engravings, "Found you."
"What do we need to do?" Sam asked, hissing in pain as she pushed to her feet. Glancing at her side, she felt the heat from her bullet wound and the grazes she had just received from her narrow escape radiate through her T-shirt.
"There are three requirements," Cherry said, reading the engravings, "the blood of the injured ... you'll have to decide which of you it'll be. Then we need the courage of the One ..." Cherry sighed, "wish that line were clearer ..." she continued reading, "and a selfless act of the heart."
"Really? How are we supposed to get all that?" Steve said, slowly pushing himself up from the ground, his injured bloody hand using the area over the inscriptions to stand, "how are we supposed to get it to open? We don't know this language."
Cherry gasped, pointing at the door as the blood disappeared into the stone, "I know the language ... and it seems the door ... knows what is required and from whom?"
"Great," Sam said, sounding more jovial than she felt, "we're one down ... two to go."
"The courage of the One," Cherry said, frowning, "I don't know what that means..."
"Cherry, I love you, but you are dim sometimes," Sam said, reloading her weapons and checking her ammunition while glancing out of the doorway, "since this is all about you. It's plain as the nose on your face ... you're the One who is noted as "the one"."
"What?" Cherry frowned, looking at the inscription again, "okay, the capital letter ... huh ... it makes more sense," Cherry sighed, rubbing her hand over her eyes, "but no one will let me be courageous."
"Your time will come," Sam smiled, "then we just have to have a selfless act of the heart."
"Sure," Steve shook his head, "piece of cake ... we're nearly there."
Movement from the incoming bridge passageway drew Sam's attention, "Man, do these people never die," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder; she hissed, "we have company."
"Again," Steve groaned, "are we ever going to get a break?"
"It wouldn't be right if we did get a break," Cherry whispered, "think of all those treasure hunter movies we know of. When does the heroine ever get a break?"
"We'll need one soon," Sam said, glancing at her watch, "we have less than three hours to get you inside and to your celebration."
"Oh boy," Steve said, shaking his head, "I'd forgotten all about that deadline."
"I'm sure Cherry was very aware of the time deadline," Sam said, slowing sinking to the ground and lining up the barrel of her sniper rifle, "as was I."
"Yeah, I'm sure you were," Cherry muttered, "you were busy with your mission ... don't think I've forgotten about that explanation you need to give me."
"You'll get it," Sam said, lowering to looking through the scope, "right now, we need to deal with whatever is incoming."
Glancing at the lineup of weapons, Sam hoped she could pull this off without Cherry losing her life. Scuffing and the sound of a limb being dragged raked over Sam's nerves. They had arrived.
"Here we go," she whispered.