Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel
Much appreciation goes to Shallan for her beta work... thank you!
Carole
"Come on, Sandburg, keep moving," Blair panted. "Jim's depending on you. Just a little bit farther. You can do it. You're almost there." He forced himself to take a few more stumbling steps, then paused, glancing behind him as the sound of a low moan reached his ears.
Carefully lowering the travois to the ground, Blair shrugged his backpack off and dropped down next to the detective. "Hey, partner. Are you with me?" he asked gently, placing his hand on Jim's chest.
Jim's eyes opened slowly, and his unfocused gaze touched on the surrounding area before centering on the man kneeling beside him. He squinted, then a small smile touched his lips. "Chief."
"Yeah, I'm right here." Blair softly patted Jim's chest. "How are you feeling?"
"Hurts."
"I know it does. Can you dial it down?"
Jim shook his head helplessly. "Can't."
"Yes, you can. Trust me. Focus on your breathing first," Blair coached.
Closing his eyes, Jim took a few slow, deep breaths.
"That's it. Now just turn that dial down. Can you picture it? See it at ten, nine, eight, seven... keep going."
The Sentinel's eyes remained closed for a few minutes before he opened them with a small sigh. "Better."
Blair released the air he didn't know he was holding. "Good." He reached for the backpack, the older man's eyes following his movement as he pulled a water bottle out.
Jim tried to lick his lips as Blair approached with the water. "Thirsty."
"I've got some water right here." Blair carefully supported Jim's head, giving the injured man a few sips of the liquid before wetting the end of his sleeve to wipe the sweat and dirt off Jim's face and neck.
"Thanks," Jim murmured.
"You're welcome." Blair leaned closer, looking at Jim carefully. "You sure the dial is down, Jim?"
"Yeah... better." Despite his reassurance, Jim's voice managed no more than a faltering whisper. "What... happened?"
Blair smiled. "You took a little fall, remember? We were walking close to the edge, and the dirt started to crumble."
"Don't... remember."
"I'm not surprised. You were awake for a few minutes right after you fell, but you were pretty out of it."
Jim surveyed the anthropologist. "You... okay?"
Blair nodded. "You pushed me back just before you went over the side."
"How... bad?"
Blair's eyes darted to Jim's newly splinted leg. "Well, I'm not a doctor, but I'd say your leg is broken."
"Head... hurts... too."
"Yeah, you've got a pretty nasty gash on your forehead, but I got the bleeding stopped."
"Call... help?"
"No, not yet. You were carrying the phone when you fell and, well, it was smashed. But it's okay," Blair added quickly, seeing Jim's look of dismay. "We can use the one in the truck as soon as we get there."
"Leave me... you go... help."
Blair shook his head, glancing up at the overcast, darkening skies. "Nope, I'm not leaving you behind. The weather is changing and I want to get you back to the truck before it rains."
"Can't... carry... heavy." Reaching out toward his Guide, Jim groaned and let his hand drop to his side.
"Hey, don't try to move around, okay?" Blair cautioned, his hand going to Jim's shoulder. "If you try to move around you could make the damage worse."
"Can't... carry," Jim repeated with a stubborn look.
Blair squeezed his shoulder lightly. "I'm not carrying you, I'm pulling you."
"Pulling?"
"Yep. Remember that episode of Bonanza you made me watch with you? The one where a miner was injured and Adam had to build a travois to carry him. Of course, they were out in the desert and we're in the woods, but I figured it would work here, too. Anyway, after I put that splint on your leg, I scrounged around for some big pine branches, then tied them together with the rope from our pack and set you on top. It works pretty well."
"Didn't think... paying... attention."
Blair lightly tapped Jim's arm in feigned reproof. "Of course I was. I'm an observer, remember?"
Jim managed a smile. "Yeah... remember."
"Do you want some more water?" At Jim's faint headshake, Blair tucked the water bottle back inside his backpack. "Let me know if you change your mind."
"How... long?"
"How long have I been pulling you? Uh, not long." Pierced by a sharp look from his partner, Blair sighed before amending his answer. "About two hours."
"Almost... there?"
"Yeah, I think so. We're going to rest for another minute or two, then..."
"Tired," Jim broke in, his fingers weakly clutching at Blair's shirt.
"I know you are, Jim."
"No... you," Jim mumbled. "Tired... rest."
"Yeah, I'm a little tired, but I'll rest when we get to the truck."
"Heartbeat... too fast."
"I'm okay, Jim."
Jim's pain-filled eyes locked on Blair. "Sorry."
Blair leaned over his partner, cradling Jim's face with his hands. "Nothing to be sorry about, man." He paused. "Jim, I know you're still in pain. Do you wanna try the dial again?"
"Sorry," Jim repeated, his eyes closing.
"Jim?" When there was no response Blair stood up, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and taking a deep breath before positioning the rope back across his chest. "Don't worry, Jim. It's going to be okay. Just a little bit longer, and I'll have us back at the truck." He bent to lift the end of the travois into the air, groaning as the heavy weight strained his already sore arm muscles, and began to drag the injured man again.
"I don't know why these things always happen to us, man. But you're going to be okay." Blair slowed for a moment as he carefully slid the travois over a large rock, then continued forward down the barely visible trail. "My cell phone is waiting for us in the truck. You'll be in a hospital before you know it."
With his mind completely focused on forcing his weary body to move, and his jaw clenched in determination, the young man kept going, one staggering step after another.
Almost an hour later, with his precious burden in tow, Blair finally emerged from the trees and approached the parking area. His eyes filled with tears when he spotted the blue and white pick-up. "We made it, Jim. We made it." Swaying with exhaustion as he dragged the travois across the pavement, he managed to gently lower it to the ground before collapsing against the side of the truck.
Jim mumbled softly, but didn't waken as Blair began rummaging inside the backpack for the truck's keys. Fishing them out after a short search, he unlocked the driver's door and reached for the cell phone on the seat. His hands shook as he punched the numbers.
"911. What is your emergency?"
Still gasping for breath, Blair fumbled over his words as he quickly explained. He heaved a relieved sigh when the operator promised that help would arrive as soon as possible. Clicking off the phone and lowering himself to the ground, he settled in at Jim's side before dialing a second number.
"Banks."
"Simon, this is Blair."
"Sandburg? I thought you and Jim had planned to go hiking today. Is everything okay?"
"No," Blair whispered.
"Sandburg?"
"No," Blair repeated hoarsely. "Jim fell, and he hurt his leg really bad. I've been pulling him through the woods for hours now, and--"
"Blair, have you called for help?"
"Yeah, I just did. There's an ambulance on the way, but I just had to talk to..." Blair broke off with a shaky intake of breath.
"I understand. I'm going to keep this line open until help arrives. If you need me..."
Blair wiped the moisture from his eyes. "Thanks, Simon."
There was a brief pause before Simon responded, his voice soft. "You're welcome. You did good, kid. You just rest now, help will be there soon."
Dropping the phone into his lap, Blair leaned back against the truck. Lightly stroking the unconscious man's forehead, he whispered, "You're going to be just fine. Just fine."
~end~
January 2002