Chapter Nineteen
2 AL: Irene
Irene heard a scream. It wasn’t the joyous expression of excitement over discovering magic. It also wasn’t a yell of surprise or startlement. It was a scream of pure terror. She was trying to figure out how she could carry everything. Now she rushed out of the hall and into the greenspace searching for the source of the cry.
As she entered the green, no one was in sight. She could hear voices and movement through the trees. She moved in the direction of the sounds at a fast walk. She would have ran, but she didn’t want to fall over a downed branch.
She was crossing a small open space when a large animal came crashing out of the bushes and charged at her. She jumped to the side, flinging the two rats she held in her right hand at the beast. The animal brushed against her and threw her into a tree. Her left shoulder crushed against the trunk. She couldn’t keep her feet under her. She slid down the tree to land hard on her tailbone.
Her right leg seemed strangely numb from the contact with the animal. Irene looked down at it and saw that her pant leg was ripped across the outer edge of her thigh. It was stained with blood. She was alarmed by the size of the tear in the fabric and the way the blood stain was enlarging.
The animal snorted, throwing its head. Somehow one of the rats was entangled with it. As it tossed its head, Irene caught sight of a long set of tusks that extended past its lips. It must have been one of these that tore her pant leg.
She scooted herself back around the tree, trying to get the bulk of the trunk between her and the animal. The beast heard her. It tilted its head in an attempt to locate the source of the sound. It circled around.
Blood was running down the side of its head. It looked like it was blinded in one eye. It appeared that Irene arrived in the middle of the fight. The animal was enraged and wanted revenge for the injury done to it.
Irene used the tree to drag herself up to her feet. An almost burning sensation radiated out from the wound on her thigh. She was almost overcome by the disturbing thought that when the numbness passed the pain was going to be intense. She ducked behind the tree. Unable to put any weight on her leg she didn’t see how she could flee. She looked up at the tree branches above her head.
The nearest branch was in easy reach. With the help of the adrenaline flooding her system and a touch of desperation she pulled herself up. She stopped when the pain in her leg blossomed. She held on and forced herself to breathe. The pain was so intense she was afraid she was going to black out and fall from the tree. She could still hear the beast moving around on the ground below.
When the peak of the pain passed, she settled herself on the closest branch and inspected her leg. She was bleeding heavily. She used her knife to cut the lower part of the pant leg off. The wound was an angry bloody mess. It was more torn than cut. Irene rolled up the cut off cloth and pressed it against the wound. She pulled off her belt and tightened it around her leg to hold the pad of material in place.
She was enough of a doctor's daughter to know that if she put too much pressure on the belt it would form a tourniquet. A tourniquet would cut off the blood flow. Without any possibility of prompt medical care the tissue of her leg below the tourniquet would die. She would rather die of blood loss than gangrene. She was using the belt to apply firm pressure in an attempt to stop the bleeding. She was careful to check to make sure she could still feel her heartbeat past the belt.
She was feeling light headed. She didn’t know if it was blood loss or shock. She struggled out of her backpack and set it on a nearby branch. The knots resisted her as she tried to free the blanket she tied to the pack. She wrapped the blanket around her when she got it free, in an attempt to ward off shock. She used the end of the rope to secure herself to the tree.
She shook in reaction as she listened to the animal moving around below her. There was a strange crunching sound and Irene realized the animal was eating the rats she threw at it. She heard a shout. She hoped someone was coming to help. The animal turned to face the sound and charged through the underbrush. She was on the wrong side of the tree to see what was going on. The sounds became fainter and fainter as the action moved away from her. She allowed herself to relax as she held the blanket close around her.
She woke up with a start. Her mind was fuzzy. It was dark and her mouth was dry. She shifted slightly and pain radiated from her leg. She reached for the light on her belt. Her hand came up empty. She slowly recalled that she put the belt on her leg.
The night sky overhead was providing a bit of light. As her eyes adjusted she searched through the folds of her blanket looking for both her light and the water bottle that were on her belt. She didn’t find either.
She must have pulled the belt through the light strap and water bottle holder when she pulled it free of her belt loops. She remembered having to put the bottle holder onto the belt after she put it through the loops on her work pants. The knife holder was likely still on the belt, since she put it on the belt first closest to the buckle. That thought made her think of her knife. She found it embedded in the bark of a close branch. She didn’t remember doing that.
She did remember putting her pack on that branch. There was no sign of it. She peered down into the darkness below. She didn’t hear any movement but she couldn’t really see the ground very well. She was impressed with how high she seemed to be up the tree. She didn’t know how she managed to pull herself up that far. There was no way she was making her way back down in the dark. As she peered down she could just make out a dark object swinging beneath her.
She realized the end of the rope holding her in place was taut. She pulled the rope up to find her backpack attached to the other end. When she untied the blanket she didn’t remove all the knots. The rope was still securely tied to one of the side hooks.
Irene set the pack back on the convenient branch. She looped the loose rope over the wood and finished it off with a quick square knot. Hopefully that would keep it more secure. She opened the top and fished out one of her spare water bottles. She carefully closed the top of the pack.
She sipped the water. It felt almost miraculous on her dry throat. She wanted to check to see if the bleeding had stopped. She didn’t. She was afraid that in the dark she would just start it bleeding again. She did check to make sure she could still feel her heartbeat below the belt. She was worried about infection. Her pant leg wasn’t the cleanest. She felt her leg around the edges of the pressure pad. She couldn’t decide if it felt hot or not.
She shifted around trying to push the thoughts of a slow death from her mind. She couldn’t find a comfortable position. She fished a half survival bar out of her pocket and started nibbling on it. In the dark she listened to the forest. It wasn’t nearly as quiet as she first thought. She could hear the rustle of leaves, the movements of small animals and the gentle burble of water. The last sound made her take another drink from her bottle.
She did not hear any human voices. She wondered where everyone went. She couldn’t imagine anyone else ended up climbing a tree. She wasn’t certain how things went so wrong. She concluded that she should never have rushed off when she heard the scream. She should have prepared herself for battle before cautiously investigating. Irene realized suddenly that she didn’t have her broom handle. That was bad, she could have used it as a crutch. She could not remember when she last held it. Did she drop it when she threw the rats? Or had she left it back in the hallway leaning against the wall?
She finished the water and carefully returned the bottle to her pack. She didn’t want to lose her ability to carry water. A couple of bites and the rest of the survival bar was gone.
When next she woke it was getting light. It wasn’t quite daytime yet but it was close. More than just her leg hurt. She was stiff and sore from holding herself still so she wouldn’t fall out of the tree. She could recall some vague memories of half waking in the night from dreams of falling as she shifted her weight against the rope. Irene made a note to herself to not spend any more nights in trees.
She worked to secure her belongings, starting with the blanket. She didn’t want to lose any more of them. When it was light enough, she scouted the forest floor looking for any threats. The largest animals she saw were squirrels jumping from tree to tree in the distance. They were moving on a course that was parallel to her tree. She waited until they were out of sight before beginning her careful climb back down. She used the rope looped over a branch to help steady her descent. When she was secure on the next branch down she would pull the loose end of the rope over the branch and above to retrieve it.
It took her a long time to reach the ground. She was tired and weak. Without adrenaline to push her forward the climb down was much harder than the climb up was. When she reached the ground she rested for a while. She looked around for the items she dropped from the tree. She didn’t see them in the heavy underbrush. Her limited mobility kept her from doing a more detailed search.
She took a closer look at her leg. Dried blood decorated her skin and the makeshift bandage. Even with her recent exercise she didn’t see any fresh blood. She carefully removed the belt. She was glad to see that her knife sheath was still on it. She put her knife back into the sheath and put the belt back on so that the knife was in easy reach.
The cloth of her makeshift bandage was stuck firmly to the wound. She could still hear the sound of water. It appeared to be coming from farther into the green away from the entrance. She was torn. She wanted to work her way back to the entrance to see if she could find her broomstick along the way or in the hall. At the same time she was thirsty and with the loss of one of her bottles she was low on water. She could also use the water to help free the bandages and clean the wound. She knew from the prelanding briefings that watering holes could be dangerous as they attracted both predator and prey. She was deeply afraid of running into the animal from yesterday.
She decided to head to the water. She needed to drink sooner or later. She proceeded with extreme caution. It was painful to put weight on her leg. She used her knife to cut a small sapling down and trim it to use as a cane. Although it was the thickest one she could get her knife to cut through, it was more flexible than she liked. With the help of her makeshift cane she hobbled from tree to tree. She paused at each trunk to rest and scout ahead.
The sound of water was coming from a ‘stream’. It was obviously constructed. The bottom was covered in white tiles. It curved making it hard to see how far it reached. Most of the noise was coming from where it spilled over a little waterfall. Beyond that was a pool that appeared to be fed from below, although Irene could not see where. She settled down on the edge of the pool. She ate half a survival bar and drank her remaining bottle of water before refilling both bottles. She took off her boots and socks in preparation for soaking her leg. She sat on the edge and slipped her wounded leg into the water.
The water felt cold at first. After a few minutes she adjusted to the temperature and it wasn’t so bad. She searched through her pack looking for soap. She was pretty sure she packed some. She washed the dried blood from her leg and tugged gently on the bandage to see if it was free yet. She let it soak a while longer.
She found the waiting hard. She jumped at every sound. She scanned the trees around her looking for any sign of danger. Finally she worked the fabric free. She washed out the cloth and wrung it out before tossing it over a nearby bush to dry. The fabric of the ship’s work clothes were designed to dry quickly and shed dirt easily. She didn’t have anything else to cover the wound with.
Gritting her teeth she made herself inspect the injury. The gash was still mostly covered with dried blood that was forming a scab over it. It was oozing blood in a few places but the flow was sluggish and Irene thought it would stop shortly. She very gently washed the wound. After a careful rinse she pulled her leg from the water and let it dry in the air.
Actually the injury didn’t look that bad. There was no sign of infection. It would have benefited from the application of sutures. The scar was going to be something fierce but she could see how her flesh was trying to close together. In fact the wound looked a lot older than it should. It looked like it had been healing for a couple days at least.
Irene grew up listening to her mother’s horror stories about what could happen if someone didn’t go to medical immediately after an injury. She knew that the condition of her leg was really too good to be true. After Agatha mentioned nanobots, Irene read about them in the ship’s database. The nanobots proposed in the records were designed for medical purposes. Irene wondered if the nanobots here in the ruins also served that purpose, in addition to the actualization of magic. Maybe whoever built this place did not like the idea of a limb rotting off any better than she did.
Since there was no way to verify that theory she could not depend on it. She covered the wound, using long strips of cloth to hold it in place. She switched out the remnants of her pants for the second pair stored in her pack. The new pair fit tight over the bandage. She thought that might help hold it in place. She switched out her socks too before putting her boots back on.
She was thirsty again. She put off drinking more water since she didn’t want to refill her bottle from a pool she just washed in. She refused to think about what could have been in the water before she reached it.
She repacked everything, as she did so she found the sheet of plastic that held the map. Irene realized she didn’t actually look at it. She opened it up and studied it. The center section showed a vague route from the ruin entrance to the green. It was more of a schematic than an actual map. Each node was an identifiable location. Irene recognized the description of the room that held the statue at the bottom of the stairs. Although strangely there was no mention of the statue itself. The author of this map must have taken it to be just debris. Short lines from the nodes indicated how many exits there were from an area. There were usually only two long lines, one that led back to the last node and one that led to the next node. Along the lines there was a description. The one from the staircase room read, “At the bottom of the stairs take the right exit to the north. Altogether travel two hours north, one hour west and drop down at least two levels.”
What was really interesting was the small drawings around the edges. They showed how the tile joints in the floor at the hallway intersections indicated which direction south was. You could also use the way the light panels in the ceilings were mounted or how the corners of the walls were formed. Irene was fascinated. She didn’t notice any of it in the dark.
The greenspace was not the last node. There were two others although the directions to them were extremely vague. It said that eight stories down and two days' travel north was the region settled by several groups led by Darien. While a day to the east of the green and ten to eleven stories down was another greenspace with an intact ceiling. Londontown lay on the north side of it. There was a pretty good description of the exit she should take out of the green. Irene remembered the group leader mentioned that there was a healer in Londontown. She decided she better head in that direction. At her current slow speed she thought it was unlikely that she could catch up to the group ahead of her.
She secured the map and dragged herself to her feet with the help of her makeshift cane. She tried to backtrack her path but she got lost among the trees. It was only after she paused and looked up at the high walls around the greenspace that she was able to reorient herself.
She reached a clearing and thought it might be the one she was in when the animal appeared. She scanned the area looking for her broomstick. When she found the big pool of blood, she realized it was not the same clearing. The blood wasn’t fresh but it wasn’t as dried as the blood she just washed off her leg. She hoped it was the animal's blood, that someone from the big group dealt with it here after it charged out of the clearing by her tree. There was no sign of any carcass, although she could make out a blood smear leading north, through the underbrush.
She really, really hoped it wasn’t human blood.