Spirit Storm by E.J. Stevens

supplies he had shoved in his hoodie pockets back at the cabin. I carefully reached into his pockets, hands shaking, and found a bag filled with gauze pads and an ace bandage. I pulled a pack of tissues from one of my pants pockets and gently wiped away the blood on his face and head. There was already a large bump forming with a cut in the center. There was a lot of blood, but the cut didn’t look as bad as the bump. Peeling off the wrapper, I placed two gauze pads on the gash and wound the bandage around his head to keep it in place. I whimpered in frustration when I realized I didn’t have a way to fasten the bandage, but just as I was about to break into sobs I saw dim light shine on the safety pins I had attached to my arm warmers. I would have laughed about MacGyvering the bandage, but this was no time for laughter. I may never laugh again.
    Cal’s face looked so pale. Think Yuki, think. I needed to call Emma. She could bring her medical supplies. Emma would know what to do.
    “How is he?” Simon asked as he knelt beside me. He was wearing the shorts, but not my hoodie.
    At least he’s wearing something. “He…he hit his head,” I said, my voice raspy. How long had I been screaming? “I thought I heard something…crack when he hit the rocks. There’s a cut and a nasty bump. I wrapped it with gauze, but he lost a lot of blood.” My voice quivered as I said “blood” and I closed my eyes. I could feel my lips shake as I drew in a calming breath. “Sam looks like he’s in shock,” I said. It was easier to talk about a stranger. “I left him a bottle of water, but he just sits there staring into space and pounding the floor. I…I can’t imagine what he’s been through.”
    “It’s all right,” Simon said, soothingly. “Everything will be all right. We heal faster than humans, so don’t worry about that scrape. I’m more worried about the bump, but I’m sure he’ll be fine with some rest. Sam too. Were you hurt?”
    Simon looked at me intently and I realized I was covered in blood. Not my blood, Cal’s blood.
    “I’m okay,” I answered. “None of it is mine,” I said, gesturing to the blood. “I was just about to call Emma.”
    “Good,” Simon said, nodding. “Tell her to bring a stretcher if she can get her hands on one. A backboard with neck support would be even better, but she needs to get here fast. I’ll meet her at the mouth of the cave.”
    Great, that leaves me alone in the dark with a trussed up murderer, an incoherent boy in shock, and Cal. Cal who won’t wake up.
    Emma will know what to do. Maybe she has a tea that cures head wounds. I speed dialed Emma and prayed that Cal would be okay.
    *****
    Emma arrived in record time. Or maybe it just seemed that way. Everything was a blur. She assessed Cal’s wounds first, and with Simon’s assistance, secured him to a backboard. They wrapped a foam cervical collar around his neck and Emma placed a poultice on his head wound. She explained why, swelling or something, but my mind wouldn’t focus. I kept replaying the sound of Cal’s head cracking as it hit hard stone. I may have teased Cal about having a thick skull, but now I hoped that it was true. Peeling his eyelids back, Emma used my flashlight to check his pupils’ response to light. After checking Cal’s vitals one more time she turned her attention to Sam.
    Sam remained huddled beneath a pile of discarded rags by the wall. He gazed into space, still rocking back and forth, but had stopped pounding the floor. Simon guessed that Sam had been trying to call for help. When his voice became hoarse from screaming he had turned to slapping the stone floor. Help had arrived, but Sam’s terror was far from gone. He appeared to be living in his own personal Hell. A place I longed to send his captor.
    Emma barely spared a glance at the murderer trussed on the floor. She would normally do anything to help any living creature, but this werewolf was a killer. He had been stalking