Page 37 of Lucky Charm

“Where are you hit?”

“Left side, below the ribs.”

“Tango?” Hunt bent to check Quaid’s wound.

Baxter straightened his gear for the climb. “Yep. Came up quiet and solo. He’s dead. If there’d been a bunch of them, we mighta had a fight.”

Hunt snorted quietly. “Go, Bax. Get us a ride.”

“On it, LT.” He emptied the medical supplies from his pockets and hit the upward trail, the snow barely sloshing at his steps.

Hunt bent to Cait. “What can I do? We’re not secure here.”

She looked up, her eyes sparking through fatigue. “Let me get the bleeding controlled. I can do some with these bandages, but I need Carter’s med kit. You have a needle and thread in that bottomless pack of yours?”

“Only because I’m a paranoid son of a bitch.” He reached for a side pocket and pulled out a roll of bandages, a small sewing kit, and a pair of gloves.

She shook her head. “Or a boy scout.”

“I can assure you, Doc, I was never a boy scout.” That came out a bit sexier than he intended given the circumstances.

She grinned at him. “Boy, do I know.”

Their night sat between them. Again.

She dropped her eyes, already moving on to care for Quaid. “I’m trying not to rip his clothes. Help me, I need access to pack this wound.” Doc snapped on the gloves and moved out of Hunt’s way to give him room to work.

He loosened Quaid’s clothes, noting the man was barely conscious. The quiet in the surrounding area made the shuffle of clothing sound like a sonic boom.

Fuck.

Quaid’s shirt was soaked with blood from the wound on his lower side. He groaned when Hunt rolled him to accommodate the lifting of his shirt.

“Nailed him under his vest.” Doc explored with her fingers. “I need your flashlight. I can’t see.”

Hunt shifted to pull one from his pocket and turned on the light, shining it in the spot Doc needed. He flicked on his mic. “Alpha Four, man down. Halfway up on the path we discussed.”

Carter answered immediately. “Copy. Moving.”

Doc was busy exploring the bloody hole on Quaid’s side. “Lord, I hope this didn’t nick his intestines. I can’t operate here.”

“Carter is on his way.”

“Good, I need his pack.”

“We need to move. ASAP.”

“Understood. You can’t carry both of us, though.”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

“Where did Baxter go?”

“To the ridge. Trying to make contact. We need a ride, and we need one before we get overrun.”

“To bad we can’t call Uber.”

Hunt snorted. “That’s it. Keep the humor coming.”