The Doctor's Note - Short Story
Aug. 14th, 2011 10:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
breezeshadowTitle: The Doctor's Note [pending, I swore I had something better...]
Genre: Fantasy
The Troops: Kader, Tegre
Status: Complete and mostly looked over
Rating: PG-13, because oh god some of the imagery. Also it's Kader talking, we know there are F-bombs.
Summary: When your world explodes, can you find your purpose? AKA "Another Invasion Story"
Prompt: "stand up and be counted"
Author's Notes: I lost track of where I was going with this. Whoops? Also cross-posted here: Click!
---
She could not get the damn whistling out of her head. It had been such an unearthly sound; like something she expected in her nightmares, or to come out of a child's toy. But to come from a bomb flying through the sky? That was truly absurd. And the sound was going to follow her, she realized, perhaps for the rest of her damn life, whistling after her like a stupid little bird.
It had been a few days since she heard it, too; though it felt like a few thousand years had passed ever since she and Tegre had passed a little too close to Io. The town had seemed so very serene when they pulled into the train station to get some quick supplies; Kader remembered thinking that she wouldn't mind if they never had to go to Io again. She hated the city -- two different markets, two different prices, two different qualities, and she could never guarantee which one would be better. Sometimes she wished Io wouldn't exist, so she wouldn't have to bother with it.
And then of course the Eramen came in and shattered the city to pieces, because Kader felt that, sometimes, she wasn't allowed to have a single thought she didn't somehow regret. She would never forget the site of the fire balls soaring over the city like absurd fireworks, before blasting through some of the weaker houses stacked up in the Demi District. She remembered staring at it, watching the flames billowing up from where the bath house had one stood; and then Tegre was tugging at her, actually pulling her along in a rare show of his former soldier training, and they were running.
She had forgotten how out-of-shape she was, and they were barely a half-mile down the road before she was wheezing and exhausted despite the adrenaline and need to move. Then the next thing she knew she was being lifted, and thought she tried to flail and kick soon she was pinned against a frail body that moved like wind despite the extra weight.
Eventually they slowed down, and Tegre put her down, apologizing a few thousand times before she finally convinced him to shut up. Shaking on the ground, pinpricks and shakes running through her body where he had held her, she looked around the road they were on. She could see, in the distance, other people also fleeing the city, and turning around revealed a group of people in the distance. Snaking next to the road, the railroad rattled each time a bomb fell down in Io, and she could see no trains.
That meant a lot more walking than she felt either of them were up to.
"Now what?" She smoothly cut off Tegre's latest apology; she looked over to find him staring at his feet, hands shoved into his pockets. He was so thin Kader wondered sometimes if he would be blown away by the wind and out of existence; and yet, he was barely breathing heavily after the run. "Where should we go?"
Tegre looked over and back over at Io, where a great cloud of smoke and fire slowly grew. He stiffened upon watching it, his chin lifting as he looked across the entire landscape -- to Antelon peeking toward the sky in the distance, and far away in the direction of Rezten, and finally toward the great mountains dominating the landscape to the west. Finally he turned to her with stern eyes that she had only seen two other times before.
"Away. They are going to attack Antelon next. It's closest. Next, they will march toward Rezten. It makes the most sense for an invasion." She forgot, sometimes, how he had military training; and each time she remembered, she wondered if it was really the basic fighting he implied it to be. He finally looked off into the distance. "North."
"Why north?" She shifted her legs underneath her, but they already felt stiff and painful; traveling forever north sounded like a horrifying idea already, and she pushed down her frustration about it, feeling it bubble beneath her words. Tegre looked over at her, and she thought she saw his usual worry for an instant before it was replaced with the calculating general.
"Because it is the only port that will not pass into the line of the intruders. Then we can leave the continent."
"Since when are we able to leave? Or would want to?" Kader glared at Tegre as she felt her world ripped from her. She often felt frustration when dealing with the regulations of the empire; the scoffing looks on fellow doctors when they found out she traveled rather than work in a clinic; and the sometimes horrible pay she got from clients who had more need than funds. Yet it was still home -- she could not imagine it was any better anywhere else, and if anything it was properly worse, what with her being an immigrant and thus not a trustworthy native.
"We can't stay here." The stern tone pulled her from her thoughts, and Kader focused on Tegre, who was staring at Io as it steadily burned. "They are going to tear this continent apart."
She wasn't sure what it was about his word choice, but something in Kader's mind shook itself off and pushed to the forefront of her thoughts. Standing up, swearing through the pain, the doctor looked down at the people trudging up the road, away from the burning city. She could tell even from a distance that many of them were injured, limping and tired, held on by the desire to make it through even when it seemed unwise. No doubt many other people would struggle their way up here; no doubt others already had. Face stern, she glared at Tegre, who returned her gaze coolly for only a few seconds before he looked back toward the burning city.
"I can't run. First off, my legs will fall off, and so will yours. Second, I'm a fucking doctor. And there are going to be many injured people crawling out of that city, Tegre." She half-limped over to him, stood and glared at him. "Are you saying I should just leave them?"
He continued staring at the burning city, or perhaps at the people she referred to; then he glanced down at her, and she could see the worry in his eyes. Suddenly, she wondered if just the cold soldier was in control; he had, after all, lifted her like she was a piece of paper and fled with her away from the world and the suffering, toward his idea of safety.
She knew then, and sighed heavily, glaring tiredly this time, knowing which Tegre she was faced with. "I won't die for fuck's sake. Once it gets bad we can move on. But I need to help those people move too. Hell, no one else on this road will."
Tegre looked down toward the road, perhaps noticing for the first time that they were not the only people running. She knew when the point had gotten through; suddenly his shoulders slumped, and his chin dropped as he stared at the ground, saying nothing. Kader sighed, but even that got no affirmation from him.
"Well fine then, I'm staying here until they come up here." She swung her bag off of her shoulders, setting it on the ground. She supposed at least she had fresh supplies in it, though it felt weird knowing that she had bought them, peacefully and without any care except for being ripped off, barely a few hours before.
She had just gotten out everything she wanted, and set it on a blanket put on the ground, when the first group of people showed up. They were lucky -- only a few scrapes, some minor burns -- but Kader offered her services anyway. They immediately stopped, spewing gratitude all over, offering to pay her back later, if they ever found her, they were so sorry they had left their belongings behind, they just wanted to live... Kader nodded through their babbling, and had them sitting with some of the food she and Tegre traveled with by the time the next group came.
This group had it worse; a burned child, barely conscious, cradled in the arms of an hysterical mother who practically threw the patient at her, begging for a miracle. Kader immediately set him down, thinking rapidly, knowing that the child really needed a clinic to recover but understanding that there was only so much one could hope for. She was still working, trying to clean out and treat and bandage all of the burns, when the next group stopped and hovered nearby; Tegre did not even look to her before bringing them over and treating their wounds.
And then soon there was a crowd. Kader barely noticed; all she saw was this cut needed disinfectant, or that this burn was going to scar horribly and all she could hope to do was keep it from spreading. This patient likely wouldn't make it, but she had to do what she could, applied the treatment, tried to make them comfortable, and exchanged knowing looks with the family. Beside her Tegre worked on the more minor injuries, but after a while she noticed him going for the burns and even the bullet wounds, and realized that he was imitating her.
Eventually she knew she would run out of supplies; but until then she knew she could keep on going until she collapsed. This was what she had gone to university for -- not to sit in a pretty office telling some Rezten fool that no he did not have pneumonia, just a cold; nor to treat a stubbed toe on an overly energetic child. She went to university to work with the most horrifying of cases, ones that other doctors looked away from because they knew the grieving family may forget the gold they owe.
She was losing so much money, she knew, but that was her life anyway.
Her supplies never ran out, but they did become low by the time the number of patients slowed. She wrapped a bullet wound in one man's leg, advising him to watch it very carefully for any sign of infection, any -- and then the howl cut through the sky, making them all jump and the families to reach to protect their injured ones. Tegre rose quietly to his feet, hand going to his pistol with barely a tremor -- the soldier was in control, then, and Kader rose as well, walking over to him and carefully placing a hand on his arm, despite the shuddering she gained for it.
"It's just a were, I bet."
"But what does it want?" Tegre scanned the horizon, jaw tight, body tense.
Kader sighed, forcing her hand to stay where it was, despite the burning. "Who cares? I doubt it's here to snatch an injured child and eat it. Those are myths."
And then they both ended up staring, because what emerged from the brush surrounding the road was not a wolf. It was instead a massive cat, all stocky muscle under tan fur, stalked toward them, great paws kicking up dusty dirt. Upon seeing Tegre reach to pull out his gun the beast paused, black-tipped ears swiveling forward, whiskers twitching.
Then it smiled. "I mean no harm."
Tegre stared with surprise, while Kader kept her hand on his arm. She was used to weres -- there had been a number of them in the orphanage, abandoned by families who could not stand the idea of such a freak in their life, as if such things couldn't happen to them. They kept to themselves most of the time, no doubt due to the bullying that they suffered if they dared be alone, but Kader had learned quickly that something that looked like a wolf may in fact have a human's mind.
Seeing the plains cat talk, then, awkward human words coming out of a fanged mouth, did not surprise her at all.
"What do you want, then?" She sounded more tired than she liked, and stood up straighter. Tegre loosened his grip on his pistol; the werecat glanced at it, then looked back at Kader, tail twitching.
"To offer a place to stay." The cat grinned when they both stared at him, a friendly gesture despite the large fangs. "Kisecawchuck, of the Hunters Reservation. We are planning to stay neutral in this conflict, and have the room to offer space for your refuges. If you would accept it."
From behind him, a white wolf emerged from the brush and sat at the werecat's side, peering up at the humans with haunting orange eyes.
Kader looked behind her at the group of people she had treated, all of them staring at the exchange. She realized, in an instance, that somehow she had become the leader of this group; the one who was supposed to make the decisions, to figure out where to do and how to survive. Her heart jumped to escape and her head spun, and she felt Tegre suddenly shift and put an arm carefully near her shoulders, trying to help support her as the responsibility smothered her.
"That would be great." His voice was soft but very polite, betraying none of his usual confusion with weres. "How will we get to your home?"
"We have a few carriages that some of our horses and ostriches have offered to drive. I will need to count how many of you are here, so I know how many to bring." With that, the cat suddenly morphed into a man who was no less intimidating, and absurdly dressed in a fancy suit; Kader always did wonder where their clothing came from. Rolling his broad shoulders, the man held out his hand to them. "A pleasure to meet you."
"Kader, and Tegre." She shook his hand quickly, as did Tegre. "We're... I'm just a traveling doctor, I don't actually..."
"It doesn't matter. If they don't want to come they don't have to." The werecat moved on, walking over to the group of people and seeming unconcerned when some of them backed up, and a few moved defensively over their wounded. "Greetings, everyone. I am offering a place to stay and rest at the Hunters Reservation. If those who are not tired or injured would please stand up so I could get a head count so I can transport everyone..."
No one moved at first; then one bold teenager rose to his feet and stared at Kisecawchuck. The werecat nodded at him, waited, and then continued his count as other people slowly got the energy and courage to move. Kader watched them quietly, keeping a note of how many people did not rise; she wondered if it was honest fatigue or injury, or terror at being faced with a human who could morph into a plains cat at any given breath.
She could not remember that many people showing up, though she vaguely knew it to be a crowd; but then Kader figured she didn't exactly try to count how many patients she cured. She had no quota to fill, no limit except her supplies. Even then she felt like she should at least have some idea of how many people had been surrounding her, locking her into her makeshift clinic. She stiffened, and Tegre withdrew the arm that she had honestly forgotten was around her.
Standing straighter, Kader watched as Kisecawchuck nodded a few times to himself, approaching the group and causing a few people to hover closer to their injured companions. Then he turned around, walking past her to mutter softly to the wolf. The wolf nodded, then lifted his head and let out a tremendous howl, before turning and running through the brush and out of sight.
"We will have to transport you in groups." The werecat turned to Kader and Tegre, though she swore he focused more on the latter. "I would prefer to bring the injured back first, so that we may try to continue your work there right away. Would that be acceptable?"
"If I can come with you." Kader met the werecat's gold eyes; most people preferred to avoid meeting the gaze of a wereanimal, but she had never been known for being submissive. Besides, she had long learned how to read a wereanimal for true threats; Kisecawchuck read as dominant, king of his domain, but not king of hers.
And Kisecawchuck seemed to get that, since all he did was nod, with not a single growl or stiff motion. "That would be wise. I will have you and your friend go with the first group." The werecat walked toward the rest of the crowd, stopping just near Kader, almost close enough to brush against her; she hastily backed up, nearly bowling over Tegre, who put steadying hands on her shoulders until she finally stopped trying to flee. "I have requested carriages to carry you back. The most injured will travel with the present doctor, so that their conditions may be assessed as soon as possible. I understand all of you likely feel most urgent, but do any of you honestly need immediate attention?"
She expected everyone to launch themselves at the werecat, demanding attention; instead, it was a full twenty seconds or so before the one woman shakily stood up, holding her injured child in her arms. Kisecawchuck did not even give her a second glance; he just nodded and let her sit near Kader and Tegre, where she muttered softly to the unconscious bundle in her arms.
Slowly other people got the courage to rise; the man with the torn arm, whom Kader would have amputated on had there not been such a large line; the woman with the bloodied head, whom Kader did not expect to live, no matter what she did, being led by her friends; and the teenager with crude bandages wrapped around his eye and what remained of his hand, alone and tired, sitting too close to Kader but she couldn't find it in her to move away.
She realized that there were less people than she expected; she had gone through so many bandages and wounds that she thought the entire world had been blown up. However, barely a dozen or so people rested near them, coughing and shuddering, a few just staring at the ground, being soothed by friends and family. Kisecawchuck looked over the groups of people, then stood up and looked down the road, eyes narrowing. A young man with his arm in a makeshift sling, standing among the group of people who would wait, approached.
"There's a lot more people coming. They're just going to be streaming in." She could just hear the pain in his voice, underneath the polite calm. "Will you gather them too?"
"As best we can." The werecat nodded at him, then turned at the sound of vehicles.
Kader turned too, tiredly, and stared at the sight. Running quickly at them were at least six carriages, pulled by four ostriches and two horses, led by the white wolf. She wondered about how ridiculous it seemed, particularly when she knew that those animals pulling the carts were actually people, not draft animals, willingly choosing to pull other people around like servants. They had no reins on, of course, just a simple mechanism to attach the cart to them -- but the idea still struck her as odd. She knew she would never let anyone attach a carriage to her.
The wolf approached Kisecawchuck, ears low at the sight of the injured people. One of the wereostriches also approached with his cart, lowering his head to look more closely at the group. He then lifted his head, and Kader watched with disturbed fascination as his neck and head morphed to form a half-human face and throat; beside her she felt Tegre stiffen and she instinctively placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling him settle down.
"These people first, then." There was no question in the were's high-pitched voice, just vague worry.
"Please. With these two. She will help Arlen evaluate the situation." At Kisecawchuck's final nod the wereostrich morphed back into a bird, turning so the side of the carriage faced the group. Kader felt a gentle nudge in her back, turned to find Tegre moving away from her and kneeling down to the teenager, quietly holding out his hand.
The loading went slowly, but Kader supposed at least it happened; she found herself next to the woman, still whispering, and her child, with Tegre between them. She squirmed only for a few seconds from the close contact, unable to get away from Tegre's thigh, but eventually gave in, especially when the injured teenager was brought in to sit at their feet for maximum capacity.
And then they were off, the wereostrich moving a more slowly than he no doubt had when arriving; the white wolf trotted ahead of the carriages, leading them through the grasses and around any rocks or obstacles. Kader's head began to throb with the steady rocking, and she wondered bitterly if jumping off and walking would get her there faster and in better shape. She looked down at the ground flowing by, however, and decided she was mostly just an idiot.
She had never been to the wereanimal camp; she expected tents but found squat clay houses instead, none over a story high, with wereanimals weaving between the buildings in both human and animal form. Upon seeing the carriages arrive a group came out to meet them, all in human form, offering assistance. She got down from the carriage in a daze, looking around, then stood up straight and asked for the doctor.
The man she was led to was huge and burly, with overly broad shoulders and glittering black eyes. His handshake was steady, however, and his set of supplies more than Kader could ever dream of. He did not invite her to sit, but instead walked out of his office with her, quietly picking up a bag that Kader thought may weigh more than she did. He barely remembered to introduce himself as Arlen before moving into business.
"So how bad?" His voice was low and gruff, like a permanent growl.
"Fucking awful." She sighed, looking out toward the people being led in from the carriages. "I'd recommend amputations for at least three of them. I don't think another three or four of them are going to make it, not without some sort of fucking miracle. All of them are at risk for infection. I've done what I can."
"Better than nothing." Arlen took her arm and tugged her along when she went to move off. "I need your help."
"And you can ask, not drag me along like a dog." She glared at the man, who released her arm and grunted.
"My apologies." The doctor looked over at the nearest group of refugees and slowly his face morphed, a bear's snout emerging. She did not know what he was trying to find, but soon he had changed back, seeming to not notice the shocked looks on people's faces as he took a pair of glasses out of his bag. "I agree. 'Fucking awful.'"
They followed the refugees into one of the buildings, where a bunch of cots had been set up haphazardly around the space; a massive caracal snoozing on one of the beds pricked its tufted ears at the commotion and looked up. Upon meeting the doctor's gaze its ears went flat and it slunk out of the building, making sure to not get close to the other were.
And then the mess started again, but this time she found herself helping instead of directing, getting the supplies and tools instead of using them, and ultimately back in the role of assistant, nodding numbly at whatever the doctor told her, doing nothing more than she was asked. She thought she should be more bothered by it; but her mind was so dead from the day that she just went through the motions, barely even reacting to the multiple amputations, sometimes on the same person, as the injured slowly filed in.
Eventually, as she felt her limbs going heavy from fatigue, others showed up. A tiny human with the same eyes and black-tipped ears of the caracal slipped into the room and began handing out water and food to the patients; another human, short but stocky, began to prepare patients for surgery, fending off any protests or impulsive fighting with surprising ease; and then she realized that Tegre was there, looking over new patients and quietly tapping the doctor on the shoulder and pointing him toward pressing concerns.
And then he walked over to her and tapped her on the shoulder. She expected to be directed to someone else, but instead he took a deep breath. "You should rest."
"I don't exactly have the--"
"Kisecawchuck's orders." Tegre winced even as he interrupted her, and Kader found she could only stare surprised. "He's having anyone who is medically able take shifts. Someone is coming to take your place." Tegre looked over at Arlen, who paused upon seeing them. "She needs to sleep."
"I know. Zita and I will be fine." The werecaracal turned at hearing her name and grinned. Arlen snorted. "Especially if someone else shows up. But go. You've done a lot for me and I'd rather you rest than mess that up."
"Well you're ever so welcome." The words growled out before she could rethink them or stomp them out, but the werebear just smiled and walked away.
It was harder to stand up and walk out of the building than she expected, but she refused Tegre's hovering help, following him but refusing to be led. She was still bitterly relieved at how short the trip was, however, when Tegre led her into one of the larger houses, where that same damned white wolf waited for them inside of the building. Tegre nodded at him, received a tail wag in return, and the canine led them down a narrow corridor and into a room at the end of the hall.
There were two beds, a small stand, and barely enough room to move, but Kader found herself collapsing into a bed without much thought to it. Tegre stood next to her bed, watching her with a frown before turning to the wolf.
"Thank you. Do you know when she must be up?"
"Kise has requested that she be allowed to rest for at least six hours, since she has been treating patients before she arrived here." The wolf's voice was smoother than she expected, with almost none of the gruffness she associated with most weres. "He is... Grateful for what she has done, in a way. This room is just the beginning of his repayment."
She would have loved to ask what the wolf meant, thoughts of Arlen's supplies taunting her through her head. But her thoughts didn't want to stay constant -- she kept thinking of Kisecawchuck standing and counting the people, a stern frown on his face, one that she thought must come from having to bother with the mess. But he led the entire mass into his home, getting the weres to help along. Even the ostriches and horses pulling the carts had just looked so business-like, like they weren't going out of their way to assist. She could not recall any annoyance on any of their faces.
At least that she could think of. And there was very little of that she had left to do, so that by the time the wolf left, and Tegre looked over to see if she wanted anything, she had already slipped into a world where that werebear's supplies were hers -- and through her own hard work, not the charity of a werecat in the middle of war.
Genre: Fantasy
The Troops: Kader, Tegre
Status: Complete and mostly looked over
Rating: PG-13, because oh god some of the imagery. Also it's Kader talking, we know there are F-bombs.
Summary: When your world explodes, can you find your purpose? AKA "Another Invasion Story"
Prompt: "stand up and be counted"
Author's Notes: I lost track of where I was going with this. Whoops? Also cross-posted here: Click!
---
She could not get the damn whistling out of her head. It had been such an unearthly sound; like something she expected in her nightmares, or to come out of a child's toy. But to come from a bomb flying through the sky? That was truly absurd. And the sound was going to follow her, she realized, perhaps for the rest of her damn life, whistling after her like a stupid little bird.
It had been a few days since she heard it, too; though it felt like a few thousand years had passed ever since she and Tegre had passed a little too close to Io. The town had seemed so very serene when they pulled into the train station to get some quick supplies; Kader remembered thinking that she wouldn't mind if they never had to go to Io again. She hated the city -- two different markets, two different prices, two different qualities, and she could never guarantee which one would be better. Sometimes she wished Io wouldn't exist, so she wouldn't have to bother with it.
And then of course the Eramen came in and shattered the city to pieces, because Kader felt that, sometimes, she wasn't allowed to have a single thought she didn't somehow regret. She would never forget the site of the fire balls soaring over the city like absurd fireworks, before blasting through some of the weaker houses stacked up in the Demi District. She remembered staring at it, watching the flames billowing up from where the bath house had one stood; and then Tegre was tugging at her, actually pulling her along in a rare show of his former soldier training, and they were running.
She had forgotten how out-of-shape she was, and they were barely a half-mile down the road before she was wheezing and exhausted despite the adrenaline and need to move. Then the next thing she knew she was being lifted, and thought she tried to flail and kick soon she was pinned against a frail body that moved like wind despite the extra weight.
Eventually they slowed down, and Tegre put her down, apologizing a few thousand times before she finally convinced him to shut up. Shaking on the ground, pinpricks and shakes running through her body where he had held her, she looked around the road they were on. She could see, in the distance, other people also fleeing the city, and turning around revealed a group of people in the distance. Snaking next to the road, the railroad rattled each time a bomb fell down in Io, and she could see no trains.
That meant a lot more walking than she felt either of them were up to.
"Now what?" She smoothly cut off Tegre's latest apology; she looked over to find him staring at his feet, hands shoved into his pockets. He was so thin Kader wondered sometimes if he would be blown away by the wind and out of existence; and yet, he was barely breathing heavily after the run. "Where should we go?"
Tegre looked over and back over at Io, where a great cloud of smoke and fire slowly grew. He stiffened upon watching it, his chin lifting as he looked across the entire landscape -- to Antelon peeking toward the sky in the distance, and far away in the direction of Rezten, and finally toward the great mountains dominating the landscape to the west. Finally he turned to her with stern eyes that she had only seen two other times before.
"Away. They are going to attack Antelon next. It's closest. Next, they will march toward Rezten. It makes the most sense for an invasion." She forgot, sometimes, how he had military training; and each time she remembered, she wondered if it was really the basic fighting he implied it to be. He finally looked off into the distance. "North."
"Why north?" She shifted her legs underneath her, but they already felt stiff and painful; traveling forever north sounded like a horrifying idea already, and she pushed down her frustration about it, feeling it bubble beneath her words. Tegre looked over at her, and she thought she saw his usual worry for an instant before it was replaced with the calculating general.
"Because it is the only port that will not pass into the line of the intruders. Then we can leave the continent."
"Since when are we able to leave? Or would want to?" Kader glared at Tegre as she felt her world ripped from her. She often felt frustration when dealing with the regulations of the empire; the scoffing looks on fellow doctors when they found out she traveled rather than work in a clinic; and the sometimes horrible pay she got from clients who had more need than funds. Yet it was still home -- she could not imagine it was any better anywhere else, and if anything it was properly worse, what with her being an immigrant and thus not a trustworthy native.
"We can't stay here." The stern tone pulled her from her thoughts, and Kader focused on Tegre, who was staring at Io as it steadily burned. "They are going to tear this continent apart."
She wasn't sure what it was about his word choice, but something in Kader's mind shook itself off and pushed to the forefront of her thoughts. Standing up, swearing through the pain, the doctor looked down at the people trudging up the road, away from the burning city. She could tell even from a distance that many of them were injured, limping and tired, held on by the desire to make it through even when it seemed unwise. No doubt many other people would struggle their way up here; no doubt others already had. Face stern, she glared at Tegre, who returned her gaze coolly for only a few seconds before he looked back toward the burning city.
"I can't run. First off, my legs will fall off, and so will yours. Second, I'm a fucking doctor. And there are going to be many injured people crawling out of that city, Tegre." She half-limped over to him, stood and glared at him. "Are you saying I should just leave them?"
He continued staring at the burning city, or perhaps at the people she referred to; then he glanced down at her, and she could see the worry in his eyes. Suddenly, she wondered if just the cold soldier was in control; he had, after all, lifted her like she was a piece of paper and fled with her away from the world and the suffering, toward his idea of safety.
She knew then, and sighed heavily, glaring tiredly this time, knowing which Tegre she was faced with. "I won't die for fuck's sake. Once it gets bad we can move on. But I need to help those people move too. Hell, no one else on this road will."
Tegre looked down toward the road, perhaps noticing for the first time that they were not the only people running. She knew when the point had gotten through; suddenly his shoulders slumped, and his chin dropped as he stared at the ground, saying nothing. Kader sighed, but even that got no affirmation from him.
"Well fine then, I'm staying here until they come up here." She swung her bag off of her shoulders, setting it on the ground. She supposed at least she had fresh supplies in it, though it felt weird knowing that she had bought them, peacefully and without any care except for being ripped off, barely a few hours before.
She had just gotten out everything she wanted, and set it on a blanket put on the ground, when the first group of people showed up. They were lucky -- only a few scrapes, some minor burns -- but Kader offered her services anyway. They immediately stopped, spewing gratitude all over, offering to pay her back later, if they ever found her, they were so sorry they had left their belongings behind, they just wanted to live... Kader nodded through their babbling, and had them sitting with some of the food she and Tegre traveled with by the time the next group came.
This group had it worse; a burned child, barely conscious, cradled in the arms of an hysterical mother who practically threw the patient at her, begging for a miracle. Kader immediately set him down, thinking rapidly, knowing that the child really needed a clinic to recover but understanding that there was only so much one could hope for. She was still working, trying to clean out and treat and bandage all of the burns, when the next group stopped and hovered nearby; Tegre did not even look to her before bringing them over and treating their wounds.
And then soon there was a crowd. Kader barely noticed; all she saw was this cut needed disinfectant, or that this burn was going to scar horribly and all she could hope to do was keep it from spreading. This patient likely wouldn't make it, but she had to do what she could, applied the treatment, tried to make them comfortable, and exchanged knowing looks with the family. Beside her Tegre worked on the more minor injuries, but after a while she noticed him going for the burns and even the bullet wounds, and realized that he was imitating her.
Eventually she knew she would run out of supplies; but until then she knew she could keep on going until she collapsed. This was what she had gone to university for -- not to sit in a pretty office telling some Rezten fool that no he did not have pneumonia, just a cold; nor to treat a stubbed toe on an overly energetic child. She went to university to work with the most horrifying of cases, ones that other doctors looked away from because they knew the grieving family may forget the gold they owe.
She was losing so much money, she knew, but that was her life anyway.
Her supplies never ran out, but they did become low by the time the number of patients slowed. She wrapped a bullet wound in one man's leg, advising him to watch it very carefully for any sign of infection, any -- and then the howl cut through the sky, making them all jump and the families to reach to protect their injured ones. Tegre rose quietly to his feet, hand going to his pistol with barely a tremor -- the soldier was in control, then, and Kader rose as well, walking over to him and carefully placing a hand on his arm, despite the shuddering she gained for it.
"It's just a were, I bet."
"But what does it want?" Tegre scanned the horizon, jaw tight, body tense.
Kader sighed, forcing her hand to stay where it was, despite the burning. "Who cares? I doubt it's here to snatch an injured child and eat it. Those are myths."
And then they both ended up staring, because what emerged from the brush surrounding the road was not a wolf. It was instead a massive cat, all stocky muscle under tan fur, stalked toward them, great paws kicking up dusty dirt. Upon seeing Tegre reach to pull out his gun the beast paused, black-tipped ears swiveling forward, whiskers twitching.
Then it smiled. "I mean no harm."
Tegre stared with surprise, while Kader kept her hand on his arm. She was used to weres -- there had been a number of them in the orphanage, abandoned by families who could not stand the idea of such a freak in their life, as if such things couldn't happen to them. They kept to themselves most of the time, no doubt due to the bullying that they suffered if they dared be alone, but Kader had learned quickly that something that looked like a wolf may in fact have a human's mind.
Seeing the plains cat talk, then, awkward human words coming out of a fanged mouth, did not surprise her at all.
"What do you want, then?" She sounded more tired than she liked, and stood up straighter. Tegre loosened his grip on his pistol; the werecat glanced at it, then looked back at Kader, tail twitching.
"To offer a place to stay." The cat grinned when they both stared at him, a friendly gesture despite the large fangs. "Kisecawchuck, of the Hunters Reservation. We are planning to stay neutral in this conflict, and have the room to offer space for your refuges. If you would accept it."
From behind him, a white wolf emerged from the brush and sat at the werecat's side, peering up at the humans with haunting orange eyes.
Kader looked behind her at the group of people she had treated, all of them staring at the exchange. She realized, in an instance, that somehow she had become the leader of this group; the one who was supposed to make the decisions, to figure out where to do and how to survive. Her heart jumped to escape and her head spun, and she felt Tegre suddenly shift and put an arm carefully near her shoulders, trying to help support her as the responsibility smothered her.
"That would be great." His voice was soft but very polite, betraying none of his usual confusion with weres. "How will we get to your home?"
"We have a few carriages that some of our horses and ostriches have offered to drive. I will need to count how many of you are here, so I know how many to bring." With that, the cat suddenly morphed into a man who was no less intimidating, and absurdly dressed in a fancy suit; Kader always did wonder where their clothing came from. Rolling his broad shoulders, the man held out his hand to them. "A pleasure to meet you."
"Kader, and Tegre." She shook his hand quickly, as did Tegre. "We're... I'm just a traveling doctor, I don't actually..."
"It doesn't matter. If they don't want to come they don't have to." The werecat moved on, walking over to the group of people and seeming unconcerned when some of them backed up, and a few moved defensively over their wounded. "Greetings, everyone. I am offering a place to stay and rest at the Hunters Reservation. If those who are not tired or injured would please stand up so I could get a head count so I can transport everyone..."
No one moved at first; then one bold teenager rose to his feet and stared at Kisecawchuck. The werecat nodded at him, waited, and then continued his count as other people slowly got the energy and courage to move. Kader watched them quietly, keeping a note of how many people did not rise; she wondered if it was honest fatigue or injury, or terror at being faced with a human who could morph into a plains cat at any given breath.
She could not remember that many people showing up, though she vaguely knew it to be a crowd; but then Kader figured she didn't exactly try to count how many patients she cured. She had no quota to fill, no limit except her supplies. Even then she felt like she should at least have some idea of how many people had been surrounding her, locking her into her makeshift clinic. She stiffened, and Tegre withdrew the arm that she had honestly forgotten was around her.
Standing straighter, Kader watched as Kisecawchuck nodded a few times to himself, approaching the group and causing a few people to hover closer to their injured companions. Then he turned around, walking past her to mutter softly to the wolf. The wolf nodded, then lifted his head and let out a tremendous howl, before turning and running through the brush and out of sight.
"We will have to transport you in groups." The werecat turned to Kader and Tegre, though she swore he focused more on the latter. "I would prefer to bring the injured back first, so that we may try to continue your work there right away. Would that be acceptable?"
"If I can come with you." Kader met the werecat's gold eyes; most people preferred to avoid meeting the gaze of a wereanimal, but she had never been known for being submissive. Besides, she had long learned how to read a wereanimal for true threats; Kisecawchuck read as dominant, king of his domain, but not king of hers.
And Kisecawchuck seemed to get that, since all he did was nod, with not a single growl or stiff motion. "That would be wise. I will have you and your friend go with the first group." The werecat walked toward the rest of the crowd, stopping just near Kader, almost close enough to brush against her; she hastily backed up, nearly bowling over Tegre, who put steadying hands on her shoulders until she finally stopped trying to flee. "I have requested carriages to carry you back. The most injured will travel with the present doctor, so that their conditions may be assessed as soon as possible. I understand all of you likely feel most urgent, but do any of you honestly need immediate attention?"
She expected everyone to launch themselves at the werecat, demanding attention; instead, it was a full twenty seconds or so before the one woman shakily stood up, holding her injured child in her arms. Kisecawchuck did not even give her a second glance; he just nodded and let her sit near Kader and Tegre, where she muttered softly to the unconscious bundle in her arms.
Slowly other people got the courage to rise; the man with the torn arm, whom Kader would have amputated on had there not been such a large line; the woman with the bloodied head, whom Kader did not expect to live, no matter what she did, being led by her friends; and the teenager with crude bandages wrapped around his eye and what remained of his hand, alone and tired, sitting too close to Kader but she couldn't find it in her to move away.
She realized that there were less people than she expected; she had gone through so many bandages and wounds that she thought the entire world had been blown up. However, barely a dozen or so people rested near them, coughing and shuddering, a few just staring at the ground, being soothed by friends and family. Kisecawchuck looked over the groups of people, then stood up and looked down the road, eyes narrowing. A young man with his arm in a makeshift sling, standing among the group of people who would wait, approached.
"There's a lot more people coming. They're just going to be streaming in." She could just hear the pain in his voice, underneath the polite calm. "Will you gather them too?"
"As best we can." The werecat nodded at him, then turned at the sound of vehicles.
Kader turned too, tiredly, and stared at the sight. Running quickly at them were at least six carriages, pulled by four ostriches and two horses, led by the white wolf. She wondered about how ridiculous it seemed, particularly when she knew that those animals pulling the carts were actually people, not draft animals, willingly choosing to pull other people around like servants. They had no reins on, of course, just a simple mechanism to attach the cart to them -- but the idea still struck her as odd. She knew she would never let anyone attach a carriage to her.
The wolf approached Kisecawchuck, ears low at the sight of the injured people. One of the wereostriches also approached with his cart, lowering his head to look more closely at the group. He then lifted his head, and Kader watched with disturbed fascination as his neck and head morphed to form a half-human face and throat; beside her she felt Tegre stiffen and she instinctively placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling him settle down.
"These people first, then." There was no question in the were's high-pitched voice, just vague worry.
"Please. With these two. She will help Arlen evaluate the situation." At Kisecawchuck's final nod the wereostrich morphed back into a bird, turning so the side of the carriage faced the group. Kader felt a gentle nudge in her back, turned to find Tegre moving away from her and kneeling down to the teenager, quietly holding out his hand.
The loading went slowly, but Kader supposed at least it happened; she found herself next to the woman, still whispering, and her child, with Tegre between them. She squirmed only for a few seconds from the close contact, unable to get away from Tegre's thigh, but eventually gave in, especially when the injured teenager was brought in to sit at their feet for maximum capacity.
And then they were off, the wereostrich moving a more slowly than he no doubt had when arriving; the white wolf trotted ahead of the carriages, leading them through the grasses and around any rocks or obstacles. Kader's head began to throb with the steady rocking, and she wondered bitterly if jumping off and walking would get her there faster and in better shape. She looked down at the ground flowing by, however, and decided she was mostly just an idiot.
She had never been to the wereanimal camp; she expected tents but found squat clay houses instead, none over a story high, with wereanimals weaving between the buildings in both human and animal form. Upon seeing the carriages arrive a group came out to meet them, all in human form, offering assistance. She got down from the carriage in a daze, looking around, then stood up straight and asked for the doctor.
The man she was led to was huge and burly, with overly broad shoulders and glittering black eyes. His handshake was steady, however, and his set of supplies more than Kader could ever dream of. He did not invite her to sit, but instead walked out of his office with her, quietly picking up a bag that Kader thought may weigh more than she did. He barely remembered to introduce himself as Arlen before moving into business.
"So how bad?" His voice was low and gruff, like a permanent growl.
"Fucking awful." She sighed, looking out toward the people being led in from the carriages. "I'd recommend amputations for at least three of them. I don't think another three or four of them are going to make it, not without some sort of fucking miracle. All of them are at risk for infection. I've done what I can."
"Better than nothing." Arlen took her arm and tugged her along when she went to move off. "I need your help."
"And you can ask, not drag me along like a dog." She glared at the man, who released her arm and grunted.
"My apologies." The doctor looked over at the nearest group of refugees and slowly his face morphed, a bear's snout emerging. She did not know what he was trying to find, but soon he had changed back, seeming to not notice the shocked looks on people's faces as he took a pair of glasses out of his bag. "I agree. 'Fucking awful.'"
They followed the refugees into one of the buildings, where a bunch of cots had been set up haphazardly around the space; a massive caracal snoozing on one of the beds pricked its tufted ears at the commotion and looked up. Upon meeting the doctor's gaze its ears went flat and it slunk out of the building, making sure to not get close to the other were.
And then the mess started again, but this time she found herself helping instead of directing, getting the supplies and tools instead of using them, and ultimately back in the role of assistant, nodding numbly at whatever the doctor told her, doing nothing more than she was asked. She thought she should be more bothered by it; but her mind was so dead from the day that she just went through the motions, barely even reacting to the multiple amputations, sometimes on the same person, as the injured slowly filed in.
Eventually, as she felt her limbs going heavy from fatigue, others showed up. A tiny human with the same eyes and black-tipped ears of the caracal slipped into the room and began handing out water and food to the patients; another human, short but stocky, began to prepare patients for surgery, fending off any protests or impulsive fighting with surprising ease; and then she realized that Tegre was there, looking over new patients and quietly tapping the doctor on the shoulder and pointing him toward pressing concerns.
And then he walked over to her and tapped her on the shoulder. She expected to be directed to someone else, but instead he took a deep breath. "You should rest."
"I don't exactly have the--"
"Kisecawchuck's orders." Tegre winced even as he interrupted her, and Kader found she could only stare surprised. "He's having anyone who is medically able take shifts. Someone is coming to take your place." Tegre looked over at Arlen, who paused upon seeing them. "She needs to sleep."
"I know. Zita and I will be fine." The werecaracal turned at hearing her name and grinned. Arlen snorted. "Especially if someone else shows up. But go. You've done a lot for me and I'd rather you rest than mess that up."
"Well you're ever so welcome." The words growled out before she could rethink them or stomp them out, but the werebear just smiled and walked away.
It was harder to stand up and walk out of the building than she expected, but she refused Tegre's hovering help, following him but refusing to be led. She was still bitterly relieved at how short the trip was, however, when Tegre led her into one of the larger houses, where that same damned white wolf waited for them inside of the building. Tegre nodded at him, received a tail wag in return, and the canine led them down a narrow corridor and into a room at the end of the hall.
There were two beds, a small stand, and barely enough room to move, but Kader found herself collapsing into a bed without much thought to it. Tegre stood next to her bed, watching her with a frown before turning to the wolf.
"Thank you. Do you know when she must be up?"
"Kise has requested that she be allowed to rest for at least six hours, since she has been treating patients before she arrived here." The wolf's voice was smoother than she expected, with almost none of the gruffness she associated with most weres. "He is... Grateful for what she has done, in a way. This room is just the beginning of his repayment."
She would have loved to ask what the wolf meant, thoughts of Arlen's supplies taunting her through her head. But her thoughts didn't want to stay constant -- she kept thinking of Kisecawchuck standing and counting the people, a stern frown on his face, one that she thought must come from having to bother with the mess. But he led the entire mass into his home, getting the weres to help along. Even the ostriches and horses pulling the carts had just looked so business-like, like they weren't going out of their way to assist. She could not recall any annoyance on any of their faces.
At least that she could think of. And there was very little of that she had left to do, so that by the time the wolf left, and Tegre looked over to see if she wanted anything, she had already slipped into a world where that werebear's supplies were hers -- and through her own hard work, not the charity of a werecat in the middle of war.
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Date: 2011-08-27 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-29 08:43 pm (UTC)