“Claude! Claude!” She pushed the cabin door open. Place was empty. Cozy fire was crackling in the fireplace, but there was no sight of the master of the house.
“Logan, you have to get up. Come on, I’ll help you…” She kneeled next to him again and helped him to sit up. He locked his arms around her shoulders. She nearly keeled over, but managed to jostle him on his feet.
“You have to dig it out… Before it heals over…” Logan was wheezing when they stumbled inside and she set him carefully to a chair next to the fireplace.
“Logan, you have been shot, you don’t just… Heal over… Like… How is that possible!” She stuttered when Logan tore off his jacket and shirt, turning his back on her. Wound had already stopped bleeding, and skin was slowly knitting over it right in front of her eyes.
“Wolf healing… There’s… Take that box…” Logan coughed, pointed at a small metal box on top of the fireplace and spat mouthful of dark red blood in to the fire.
“Quickly… I think it hit the lung… Jesus, it burns…”
She grabbed the box, opened it and nearly dropped it when she saw what was inside. Complete set of surgeons tools. Forceps, scalpels and other items she didn’t even have a name. Logan reached in and picked a pair of long forceps.
“Pull it out with these…” More blood dribbled down to his chin and he wiped it off grimacing.
“How?”
“Stuck them in to wound and dig around until you find the slug… Hurry, it’s eating me alive…”
“But won’t it hurt you…” She whispered, taking the forceps. Logan turned facing the door.
“It already hh… Hurts… Just do it…”
She braced herself and prepared to do as Logan told her to when door suddenly flew open. Claude stood at the doorstep, rifle on one hand, and three dead rabbits on the other.
“What’s going on?” He asked with confused tone when Logan grasped his jacket and pulled his guns, training their barrels to Claude.
“Back off, De Santos… Rogue! Just do it! Now!”
She was going to be sick. Every time she moved the forceps they scraped something inside of Logan. She could feel every scrape running up her arms. Logan was sweating bullets and spewing curses, but his grip from his guns didn’t falter, and both heavy revolvers stayed aimed at Claude who stood frozen on the open doorway.
“Can you move your right hand a bit? I think there’s something, a bone or…” Logan let out a pained grunt, but complied and let his right arm fall on his side. Suddenly forceps slid in deeper, and she could feel different kind of scrape. Metal against metal instead of bone. She tried to grab it, but it was hard. Slug was in deep, and sat snuggly in his flesh. He was bleeding again; forceps had torn broken vessels open again.
“Take it out already…” Logan’s voice sounded thick and wet, like he was speaking with throat filled with water.
“I’m trying… Ah, I think I got it!” She could indeed fell the slug between the forceps and started to shimmy it out carefully.
“Stay, De Santos! Don’t move a muscle!” Logan barked and muscles in his back tensed. It made her grasp from around the slug slip. But it was already closer to the surface. She could probably discard the forceps… She pulled them out from the wound and urged Logan to lean slightly forward. Light coming from the fireplace revealed that all she had to do was to poke her fingers in to the bloody mess, and slug would slide out on its own.
Logan let out a relieved moan when malformed lump of silver slid finally out from his body. He sat for a while, breathing deeply, before standing up and walking to Claude.
“Care to give me your rifle… Friend?” He purred with venomous voice. Blood was still slowly oozing from the wound, but it was closing already.
“Of course,” Claude said and handed his rifle to Logan who inspected it.
“And your ammo?” Claude dropped a small leather pouch to his palm. Logan opened it. Small iron pebbles. No silver.
“Where were you?” He asked. Claude threw the rabbits in front of him.
“Hunting. I thought we could do a stew some day. What is going on in here?” Claude asked. Logan reached his palm towards Marie who dropped the silver slug on it. He grasped Claude’s wrist and dropped the shining metal lump to his palm before it burned him.
“This is going on. Somebody shot me with it when we were returning from town.”
“You think it was me?” Claude asked voice trembling, cheeks reddening.
“You haven’t exactly been hiding your opinion about my condition…” Logan grunted releasing the younger man and returning to the fireplace, slumping to the chair.
“It’s true that I don’t like of what you have become. But that doesn’t mean I would be willing to kill you. At least not from behind. Had it been I who shot you, that hole would have been on your forehead instead of your back.”
“Right… Just for your information, I’ll be sleeping one eye open from now on… Rogue, bring my shirt and jacket.”
She retrieved Logan’s jacket and bloody shirt from the floor and followed him out. Logan stood there leaning heavily against the horse that had stood patiently waiting through their whole ordeal.
“Give them to me…” Logan hissed and slid the jacket over his shoulders when Marie handed it to him.
“You’ll ha… Have to take care of the hh-horse… I can barely stand…”
She took the horse to the small stable, taking off reigns and the saddle and brushing its gleaming black coat quickly. She checked it had water and hay before leaving.
Logan had gotten as far as in to the barn. He lay on the sand face down, coughing his lungs out.
“I hh… Heal faster from the outside… I think there’s still some bleeding…” His lips were tinged almost blue.
“But I don’t think Claude will try anything… If it even was h-him… I think I scared hhh… Him good enough…”
“Don’t talk. Can you get up?”
“Can you hhh… help out a bit…” She let him take her hand and pulled him up draping his arm over her shoulder.
“It looks like we hhave to postpone our plans…”
“What plans… Logan! How can you think about making love in that condition?”
“Easy… You’re with me…”
Up in the loft she helped Logan to get cleaned up before she propped him to half sitting position on the bed with pillows.
“You’ll drown if you lay down…” She suspected after hearing wet rattle coming from inside of him.
“Come hhhere…” Logan whispered and patted the bed next to him tiredly. She undressed quickly and slid next to him, wrapping her arms around him and placing her head on his stomach. One hand he draped over her shoulder, other was still grasping a revolver that rested on his side.
“If it isn’t Claude… Could be anybody…” He grunted and settled on top of pillows more comfortably.
First time in a week she woke up fully rested, and after the sun had risen high enough to shine through the window of the loft. Logan had already gotten dressed and left. She washed up quickly and put on some clothes before going to find him. He wasn’t in the barn. He wasn’t outside. He wasn’t in the stable. That left only one place.
“… Found some tracks from the road. Somebody had been running towards the town earlier…” Both men sat at the table, hunched over a small piece of paper. Claude was holding a pen, Logan was eating breakfast.
“Good morning,” Claude greeted her when she stepped in and closed the door.
“Have some porridge and sit down.” She cast a curious glance towards Logan.
“It wasn’t Claude. He showed me the place he shot those rabbits. There’s no way he could have gotten from there to shoot me and then back here. But he thinks he knows who it was,” Logan explained.
“A hunter that calls himself Brother Jeremiah,” Claude said.
“Him? A hunter?” Marie gasped disbelievingly.
“Looks can be deceiving…” Logan said grimacing.
“He’s usually after witches. He’s probably trying to get rid of me first so that he can have his way with you,” he continued.
“I’m not comfortable with this. Logan, you’re like a brother to me, but… I can’t go deceiving another hunter like this. I won’t tell him you’re here, but I’d be much more comfortable if you two packed your things and left. I’m sorry. I really am…” Claude spoke with pained look on his face, wringing his hands.
“It’s okay, Claude. I understand. We’ll leave as soon as I’m good enough shape to ride,” Logan promised.
“I hate to do this… What kind of a man lets down his best friend like this?” Claude whispered.
“A man without options. He’ll kill you, too, if he finds out you have been hiding us,” Logan said, reaching out and squeezing his friend’s hand reassuringly.
“At least I’m going to make sure you have everything you need before you go,” Claude said standing up.
At the end of the day they had their belongings and Claude’s gifts packed up to the back of a mule. Both Logan and Marie had their own horses.
“Keep him safe and human,” Claude whispered to Marie and handed her large silver cross.
“And you… If I hear you have started slipping, I just have to come after you and hunt you down. I wouldn’t like it, you wouldn’t like it, so keep your act together!” He spoke to Logan with harsher tone. Logan harrumphed.
“Christ. I have a feeling I won’t be seeing you guys anytime soon…” Claude sobbed and pulled larger man to his embrace. Logan answered to it with his own.
“It took only six years last time…” he spoke with hoarse voice, fresh tears making his eyes gleam wetly.
“At least let me know every once and a while that you’re still alive. Okay?” Claude asked. Logan nodded, letting him go and climbing to the saddle.
“Take good care of each other!” Claude shouted after them when they rode away.
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