Topic: Into The Unknown

Brona

Date: 2015-09-05 09:32 EST
Pax seemed oddly quiet with the militia gone. Those who had remained behind were just enough to hold the inner perimeter against the mutants, should there be an attack, but no one really begrudged the need for most of their able-bodied fighters to head to the valley in answer to the signal lit on the mountaintop.

Life continued on, much as it always did. Ember remained with Joss, Ethan's father, in his absence; Han and Uther had chosen to remain and look after Aedan and Brona in Mahon's absence. But despite their best efforts, Brona was still the main healer for the area, and she still had work to do. Called out at all hours, she was rarely home for longer than a few hours at a time, with accidents and illnesses necessitating her attendance all over Pax and the surrounding farms.

Three nights after Mahon and Ethan had left with the militia, she was called out to the mill, on the very edge of Pax's territory, to check on Old Man Green, who had been suffering with almost continuous infections since his foot had been crushed months before. She was with him most of the night, leaving only when she was sure he would sleep soundly, and promising his granddaughter that she would return the next day to check on him. She'd walked the few miles between the mill and the Dugan farm enough times to know the route in her sleep. But even so, she found herself walking faster beneath the full moon tonight, feeling oddly exposed in the knowledge that so few of their own were watching the perimeter. The sooner she was home, the better.

Maybe it was a sixth sense, but she had good reason to be wary out there on the edge of Pax's territory. For one thing, there was the constant threat of mutants, even in the daylight, though they'd been strangely quiet lately. And there were the ruffians and outlaws who sometimes roamed from village to village, raiding and taking what they wanted, too wild to settle down. Though they were human, they were a threat of a different kind. Mostly, they were interested in supplies - food, medicine, booze, and sometimes women. There were rumored to be several small packs of them that roamed the wild, though it had been a long time since anyone could remember them visiting Pax.

A long time, yes; long enough that it wasn't the thought of being attacked by other people that was on Brona's mind as she walked along in the chill of the spring night. Hugging her shawl tighter about herself, she fixed her eyes on the dim outline of the farm in the far distance and picked up the pace, one hand inside her basket of medical supplies gripping the small knife she usually used for ad-hoc surgery. Well, if she had to use it tonight, it would definitely be ad-hoc, but probably not what you might call surgery.

It was the sound of a pistol being cocked that was likely her first sign of trouble. The sound came from somewhere in the shadows behind her, and in the darkness it was hard to tell how many there might be. Not mutants, obviously - mutants usually kept to their own territory. This was some other threat. "Stop right there and don't make no sudden moves," a male voice warmed from somewhere in the shadows.

Startled by a sound she had never expected to hear in the still darkness, Brona stuttered to an abrupt halt on the track, her back suddenly stiff with painful tension. She felt her hand flex impulsively about the knife in her grasp, but didn't make any moves, just as she was told. "What do you want?" she asked, surprised by her own audacity.

"You a healer?" asked a second voice, confirming that there was more than one of them. "Seen you going to see Old Man Green. Them medical supplies in your bag?" the second voice continued, the vague outline of a tall man partially hidden in the shadows nearby.

Of all the questions she might have anticipated, that had not been one of them. Brona felt her grip on the knife relax a little. "I ....I'm a healer," she nodded in answer to the second voice, her head turning toward the deeper shadow it seemed to be coming from. "I-I'm just going home." Some slightly bolder part of her added, "If I drop this basket, things will smash, and it won't be pretty."

"Put the gun away, Eli," the second voice whispered, presumably to the first.

"So, she can run away?" the other argued.

"You're gonna scare her and then what?re we gonna do?" the second countered, arguing back and forth. "We don't mean you no harm, miss. We just - we need your help."

"How am I gonna outrun two men when I'm carrying this?" Brona interjected over her shoulder to the owner of the first voice - apparently named Eli. At least it didn't seem as though they were in the market for a captured bride, which was the initial thought that had shocked through her mind. "You need a healer?" she asked quietly. "You could've come to the farm any time today, I'd've come. Why stop me in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere?"

"It's our little brother, ma'am ..." the second one, thus far unnamed, blurted.

"Shut up, Nate," the one named Eli scolded, most likely the elder of the two. "You gonna come nicely or do we gotta get nasty?"

"Ain't no reason to get nasty, Eli," the one named Nate said, as he stepped into the moonlight. He was young - younger than he sounded maybe, probably in his early to mid-twenties - a little disheveled, but not bad looking. He had a chestnut-colored mare on a lead behind him who was snorting and nodding her head, as if in greeting to the young woman. "Brother's in a bad way, ma'am. He needs help, and we're afraid if we move him, he might not make it."

The other brother - Eli - could be heard growling a few choice words, not unlike Brona's brother might have in his shoes.

Daring to move, Brona turned toward Nate as he came out of the shadows, worry crossing her expression at the back and forth between the brothers. "What's wrong with him?" she asked, before dismissing the question with a shake of her head. "Look, I-I need to tell them at the farm where I'll be. They'll worry, and they've got enough to worry about right now."

"Ain't no time for that," Eli snapped, moving into the light so that she could see the moonlight gleaming off the pistol in his hand. "We can talk about sending word to the village later. Time's a wasting," he added, waving toward the horse with his pistol.

Nate frowned in the darkness. "Please, miss. He's just a kid. Mutants got him, and if he don't get some help soon ..." He broke off, not wanting to finish that thought, much less speak it out loud.

"But ..." She looked hopelessly toward the dark shape of the farm, too far away for her to even consider making a run for it, especially now she knew they had horses. On the other hand, their brother had been attacked by mutants and could well be at death?s door already; without some intervention, he would die. "You'll bring me back, right?"

"Soon as he's out of trouble," Nate replied agreeably.

Eli only scowled, refusing to make any promises until his brother was well, but despite the talk about outlaws, he'd never hurt a soul in his whole life who didn't deserve it. After a moment, he finally told her grudgingly, "You help him get well, and I'll bring you back myself. You have my word."

"What if I can't?" Perhaps it was a heartless question, but she needed to know the answer to that one before she agreed to anything. What would they do if she couldn't do anything for their brother" Would she disappear"

Brona

Date: 2015-09-05 09:34 EST
"Cross that bridge when we get to it," Eli replied, refusing to budge on that, though it was Nate's turn to scowl now at his brother's response. If he had a chance, he'd tell her not to mind Eli - that his bark was worse than his bite, but now was not the time. Knowing the gun was pointless now, Eli uncocked the pistol and returned it to the holster he wore at his hip. "Ain't too far from here," he told her. He was obviously the older of the two, though he didn't look much older - maybe in his late twenties, the look of too much responsibility too soon hardening him before his was very old.

It wasn't much of an answer, and the attitude with which it was delivered frightened Brona more than she was happy to admit to. She'd never been in direct danger in her life, always on the sidelines to help deal with the consequences, and now the very real dangers of their world had come to find her. "Then I don't have a choice, do I?"

It was Nate who came forward to help her onto the mare, Eli taking firm hold of the reins so that she wouldn't try to get away.

Mahon would never forgive you if you burst into tears just because some strange men intercepted you when you were on your way home to bed, Brona told herself sternly as Nate came forward to help her, reluctantly handing her basket to Eli. She was going to need both hands to get onto the horse, after all.

Nate gave her a boost to help her up onto the mare, before climbing on behind her. Once she was mounted, Eli handed her back her basket with a solemn warning, "Don't do nothing stupid." He thought his own horse could take the weight of two riders better, but Nate seemed better at convincing her than he was and so, he let it go. They didn't have far to go, after all, and they'd wasted enough time already.

She sat stiffly on the mare, her basket held secure in her arms - not because she wasn't used to riding, but because she'd never been this close to anyone she didn't consider family before. Her mind flashed to Aedan, worried how the little boy would cope with the absence of not just his father, but his aunt, too. But there was nothing for it now. Feeling very small and very frightened, she simply did as she was told, hoping that whatever had happened to their brother was not quite so bad as they thought.

Eli climbed up onto his own horse, taking the rear so that he could keep an eye on the young woman they were basically kidnapping at gunpoint and forcing to accompany them to where their brother was waiting. It wasn't something he was proud of, but they were desperate and didn't have time for good manners.

Nate kicked his horse into motion and turned her back the way they'd come. They traveled in silence for a few miles until they came upon a small ramshackle house that looked like it hadn't been used in years.

Whether Nate didn't feel like talking or felt he'd said too much already was unclear, but what was clear was that - if they were to be believed - the two men seemed worried about their brother and were done wasting time talking. "This is it," Nate proclaimed, as he reined the mare to a halt and jumped down off the horse before holding a hand out to help her down, as well. "It ain't much, but it's for now," he declared.

As for Brona, she didn't have much to say. She didn't know where they were going, or even why she hadn't put up more of a fight about it. Thoughts of how worried her family would be were circling her mind as they rode, blinding her to the landmarks that would have guided her out if she could make her escape. When they reached their destination, however, she couldn't disguise the faint look of horror. If the house was that ramshackle on the outside, how clean was it likely to be inside"

Startled out of her thoughts by Nate's welcome, She blinked, taking a firm hold on her basket before letting him help her down, however awkwardly that came about. "You ....you live here?"

Nate shrugged before helping her down from the horse. "We don't live nowhere really. Not since the fire, but it's home for now," he told her. Or more like shelter. The house wasn't really fit to be a permanent home for anyone, at least, not without a lot of work.

Instead of butting in and scolding the younger man, Eli tied his horse to a tree and started toward the dilapidated old house, presumably to check on his brother. "You coming or what?" he snapped, looking over his shoulder just once.

Safely on the ground, Brona drew her shawl more tightly about herself, both hands on the handle of her basket as she looked at the crumbling edifice. Eli's unfriendly indication made her flinch, but she steeled herself. "Well, I'm here now," she said, more to herself than anything. "I hope you two are prepared to do more than stand and watch." She started forward, following in Eli's wake.

Now that Eli was no longer watching then so closely, Nate leaned in, lowering his voice for her ears only. "Don't mind him. He's just real worried about Cody. We both are. Ever since Ma died ..." He trailed off, frowning almost as though he was worried he was revealing some family secret and falling silent as they reached what passed for the front door.

She wasn't exactly reassured by Nate's quiet offering, but it gave her a little more understanding of the way Eli seemed to look at the world. "Just show me where he is and don't get in the way," she told Nate quietly, confident in her own skill, at least.

There wasn't much light in the small house, but Eli had somehow found a generator and rigged it up so that there was some electricity, and the two men seemed to have cleaned the place up as much as they could. As shabby as it appeared, they'd made an attempt to patch the roof and cover the windows so that the rain didn't get in. It wouldn't do them much good come winter, but Eli was hoping they'd be long gone before then.

"He's upstairs," Nate explained as he led her further into the house to a rickety stairway that curved around a landing and on upwards.

The dim light did not make Brona feel any more confident - she would need something brighter if she had to intervene too much with their brother's health. Still, she kept her mouth shut, assuming that any comment on the state of the house would invite more snappish remarks from Eli at the very least. She nodded in answer to Nate's explanation. "All right," she said softly. "Sooner I see him, the sooner I can do something, right?"

He gestured for her to take the stairs first, still well-mannered enough to tell her to be careful before following, each stair creaking beneath their weight as they ascended. Once they were up the stairs, a faint light could be seen coming from the first room on the right and a voice could be heard speaking in a hushed whisper, the words too quiet to be understood from the hall.

Taking the stairs carefully one at a time, Brona paused at the top. It didn't take a genius to work out which door to aim for, and she made her way in that direction, knocking softly before pushing it open to look inside, braving the wrath of Eli to at last get a look at her patient.

What she saw when she pushed that door open might have astonished her, as Eli was crouched down beside a worn cot, holding the hand of another whose face was shrouded in shadow. It wasn't hard to tell that the elder brother was sick with anguish and worry over the younger brother, as anyone might be, given the same circumstances. Behind her, Nate cleared his throat as if to announce their arrival and warn his older brother they were there.

Brona

Date: 2015-09-05 09:35 EST
What she saw didn't effect her even half as much as what she smelt as she entered the room, though. Brona had attended to many injuries and illnesses over the past few years, but very few had assaulted her with that peculiarly sweet scent that came from a highly infected wound. Even without seeing the problem site, she knew what she was going to have to do, and she knew none of them were going to like it much. She turned to Nate, speaking with quiet calm. "I need hot water, clean cloth for bandages, and clean sheets for him when I'm done."

Stepping further inside, she set her basket down, moving to kneel beside Eli. Her face, which had seemed so concerned and frightened only moments before, was warm and confident with a smile for the young man lying on the cot. "Hey," she spoke to him. "My name's Brona. What happened to you?"

Nate nodded his head, wasting no time in hurrying off to procure the items the healer needed, and he had a name now. Brona. It was a nice name, an honest name. Eli remained where he was, his expression solemn, worry etching itself on an otherwise handsome but stoic face.

The young man lying on the cot didn't look much older than Brona, in his late teens perhaps or early twenties, dark hair and beard covering his the pale face that was damp with sweat. "Mutants," the young man murmured, blue eyes glassy with fever.

"Figures," she smiled in answer. "One swipe, and afterward they don't call, they don't write ..." She shrugged, knowing it was a terrible joke, not to mention incredibly old, but prepared to do anything to make him relax a little. "Let's see the damage, okay' I promise, you have nothing I haven't seen before." She reached out to gently peel away sheets and shirt, seeking out the source of the pungent smell permeating the room.

"She's ....funny ..." the wounded man stammered,struggling with the words and wincing as he tried to crack a smile. "I like her."

Eli gave his brother's hand a squeeze. "She's gonna help you get better, Co," he told his brother in an attempt to reassure and comfort him. "Be gentle," he said, turning a glance to Brona, the hardness in his eyes giving way to the worry.

She raised her eyes to meet Eli's gaze, her initial impression of him gentling at the look on his face. "I may not have a choice tonight," she warned him. "But I won't do anything that will make it worse." Flashing another warm smile to the wounded man, she steeled herself for what she knew she was going to find beneath the hastily made bandage stuck to his side. "Okay, let's do this slowly," she warned her patient. "Might stick a little, but if it gets too much, tell me, and I'll stop."

Inching closer, she began to draw the bandage away, automatically breathing through her mouth as the dim light revealed her worst nightmare. Three claw marks, long gashes over his ribs, that had obviously bled profusely but were now puckered and red, hot to the touch and oozing pus and the black ichor of mutant venom. And somehow none of the disgust and concern showed on her face at all. "You know, I could be wrong, but I think you might be shaving in the wrong place."

Eli didn't look too amused by the healer's sense of humor, though he understood she was trying to make his brother feel more at ease through what had to be an agonizing process, and she hadn't even really started yet.

"Wish that was all it was," Cody replied, enunciating each word slowly as she peeled back the dressing. He squeezed his brother's hand tighter to steel himself against the pain that he knew would only get worse before it got better.

The thump of boots on the stairs announced Nate's return with at least a few of the items she'd requested. Clean cloth was not easy to come by, but he'd managed to find a blanket he thought might serve the purpose.

Eli was wincing at the sight of the wound, knowing it wasn't good. "Can you help him?" he asked, in a quiet voice.

Brona considered the wound carefully for a long moment, her expression very carefully blank. "I think I can," she said finally, looking at the lucid brothers. "I need better light, and one of you is gonna have to hold him down." She looked down at the youngest brother ruefully. "Not gonna lie, this is gonna hurt," she told him. "Your wound is infected, and some of the flesh is necrotic. I need to cut the gashes open, and drain out all the pus and ichor, and I need to cut away the dead flesh. It's going to hurt like hell, but I've got some stuff in my basket that'll dull the pain a bit, and once I'm done, I have a salve I can put on your wounds that'll numb them. After that, it's just keeping you clean and comfortable, and helping you get through the fever. Okay?"

If it was possible for him to get any paler, he would have as he drew a ragged breath. "Didn't think ....anything ....could be worse ....than mutants," he stammered, trying to look brave. He turned his gaze to Eli a moment, who looked like he was trying hard to remain as stoic as possible. "Anything ....happens to me ....You take care of Nate," he told his elder brother. It wasn't a request.

"Shush, you're gonna be fine," Eli argued.

"Promise me," Cody insisted, as Nate came into view with at least some of the items on Brona's list.

Upon overhearing this and seeing his two brothers, hands clasped tightly, he looked close to tears. "Got what you asked for, ma'am," he told Brona. "Best I can do."

"Thank you, Nate." Brona smiled for the middle brother, more to ease his concern than anything. It was going to be a long couple of hours, for all of them. Moving to her basket, she began to extract various pots and vials, as well as her surgical kit, setting everything out as she would need it. She dosed the youngest, whose name was apparently Cody, with a liberal painkiller that would, hopefully, encourage him to pass out when it got too much to handle. The blanket Nate had found was ripped into bandages easily enough while that went into effect, and a few minutes with a candle had her kit sterilized, ready for use. Discarding her shawl, she rolled up her sleeves, washing her hands thoroughly before taking up her place by the cot once again. "Here we go."

Meanwhile, Nate had gone in search of a lantern and more candles to increase the lighting, and Eli had helped as much as he could with the other preparations. "Wish we hadn't finished off that last bottle of whiskey," Nate remarked, once he'd returned, though it seemed Brona had given his brother something to help him relax.

"I'll hold him down," Eli volunteered, taking the lead. "You do whatever she tells you to," he instructed Nate, before turning to their baby brother once again. "Be strong, Cod. You're gonna be okay. Promise," he told his brother, the hint of a reassuring smile on his face, as he gave his hand a final squeeze before getting up and moving to the other side, so that he could hold him down without getting in Brona's way.

It was not a pleasant process, far from it. But Brona was glad for the extra pair of hands to irrigate Cody's wounds with the sterile water as she worked to drain and clean the irritated flesh. She didn't stop until the only thing coming from those wounds was fresh red blood, focused on her work rather than the sounds of pain issuing from her patient, or the occasional sounds of sympathetic agony from her not-exactly-willing assistants. Still, once the wounds were clean, she washed her hands once again, slathering a thick layer of the amazing ointment Ember had taught her how to make over the site before carefully padding it. With Eli and Nate's help, she managed to secure the pad in place with the clean bandages, and change the sheets underneath Cody, before announcing that she was done.

Thankfully, Cody passed out fairly quickly into the process when the pain became too much for him to bear, and by the time they were done, the other two brothers looked exhausted, as well, physically, mentally, and emotionally. "What happens now?" Nate asked, as the three of them watched over his brother.

Brona

Date: 2015-09-05 09:36 EST
Wiping her hands and arms dry for the last time, Brona sighed softly. "Now it's just a matter of time," she told them quietly. "There are herbs I can give him for the fever. Once that is under control, he should heal normally. It could take a few weeks, though." She looked around at the room, startled to find that the dawn was beginning to break. "Um ....someone should sit with him. I need to wash these sheets and the bandages from before so they can be used again when he needs them, and ..." She stifled a yawn of her own. In about an hour's time, she would have been up for a full twenty-four hours.

"I can do that," Nate volunteered. "You should get some rest."

Eli shot a pointed look at his brother, but Nate didn't seem to notice. "You sit with him," the elder brother practically ordered. "I'll wash the sheets and bandages, and you need to rest," he added, looking to Brona. He didn't mention when he might rest, but it sounded like they were going to be taking turns watching over their brother.

"I-I don't need to sleep long," she offered, sensing some kind of tension between the brothers that she wasn't even going to try and go into. "Just a few hours, and then you can rest."

"I don't need to rest," Eli replied stubbornly as he got to his feet. "Call me if he changes," he told Nate, before gathering the sheets and bandages together so he could go give them a good scrubbing and hang them out to dry in the sun.

Nate nodded his head, a small frown on his face, knowing better than to argue with his brother. As prickly as he could be, Nate knew he meant well.

Tough she might have been, but Brona couldn't stand up to everything on no sleep and not be affected. As Eli made his position absolutely plain in the by-now familiarly unfriendly manner she supposed she was just going to have to get used to, she felt her cheeks burn like a child being scolded. Tiredness brought with it the hot prickle of tears behind her eyes, and she hid her face from Nate, not particularly wanting any of them to know that she was still frightened of them. Swallowing hard, she made an effort to keep her voice level as she asked, "Where should I go?"

"There's a cot in the other room," Eli explained. "Nate'll show you." And with that, he disappeared from the room, the sound of his boots scraping on the floor before thumping down the stairs.

Nate sighed, still frowning, partly in concern for Cody and partly for Eli, wondering if he should apologize again for his brother's lack of good manners. "We didn't always live like this," he found himself telling her, though he wasn't sure why. "Ain't been the same since Ma died."

Brona shrugged, bending to retrieve her shawl from the top of the basket. "People do what they have to," she said, not particularly friendly herself. "It's a hard world." She swallowed again, needing to be away, at least where she couldn't be seen. "I, uh ....I should sleep. If he wakes up, let him sip water. If he's hot, cool him down; warm him up if he's cold. And-and if you need me, wake me up."

"Yes, ma'am," Nate replied, as politely as he could. He prickled a little at her response to his confession, but then, he didn't know her from Adam and couldn't fathom a guess what her life might have been like. He hunkered down close to his brother, determined to watch him like a hawk. He'd tried to be friendly, but he supposed he couldn't expect her to be friendly back, considering she wasn't here by choice. "Sleep well," he offered, almost as an afterthought. "And thank you."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and slipped from the room. A moment of searching found the promised cot in another room, and despite herself, she made a point of closing the door behind her. Almost in a daze, she went about the process of making herself comfortable to sleep, her mind whirling. How long would it be before the alarm was raised at her absence" What could anyone at home do with no clue as to where she had gone? All she wanted to do was go home. But she couldn't. She didn't know where she was, and she had a patient who needed her in the next room.

But even knowing that didn't stop her from feeling alone and frightened, and for the first time in years, she found herself longing for her mother, missing the certain knowledge that there was someone in the world who loved her in a way no one else ever would. Someone who would miss her, and not just her skill, if she didn't come back. Sinking down onto the cot, she turned her face to the wall, and burst into tears. With her shawl pressed tight to her face, she muffled the sound as best she could until, finally, exhaustion sent her reeling into sleep.

((If it's not one thing, then it's t'other, ain't it so' Huge thanks to my partner for indulging me!))