Breaking Creed

40

“She’s going into shock,” Creed told Jason.

It was taking forever to get back to the house, back to his Jeep. He carried Maggie while Grace and Jason led the way. Jason held the GPS tracker.

Creed had punched in the coordinates and found a shortcut so they didn’t have to wind all the way around and backtrack the ground they had covered in their search. But the shortcut included woods so thick he had to slow down just to maneuver between trees.

Every time he stopped to catch his breath he heard Jason stomp and mutter something too garbled for Creed to understand. But he could guess what the young soldier’s frustration was about. He couldn’t help carry Maggie with only one arm.

Before they started, Creed had taken a photo of one of the scorpions he’d smashed and kept. He’d texted the picture to Hannah with the instructions: “Find out what kind this is ASAP. Need to know what to do. Multiple stings.”

Now he heard his phone ping, and Jason pulled it out of his pocket immediately.

“She needs to know if it’s Grace or one of us.”

But before Creed could answer, the kid was poking in the answer quickly. He operated the phone while holding the tracker, both in his one hand and without slowing his pace.

“Hey, I can walk on my own,” Maggie said into Creed’s shirt collar, but she didn’t move her head from his shoulder.

“Maybe, but not fast enough.”

“Are they poisonous?” she asked.

“We’re trying to find out.”

“She says you smashed it too hard,” Jason told him without looking up. “She can’t tell if there were stripes on its back.”

“I think there were stripes.”

Jason’s thumb went back to work.

Creed still couldn’t see the house or any of the outbuildings. To make matters worse, the sky continued to get darker. Grace kept looking back at him to make sure he was okay. He was relieved she hadn’t gotten stung. A bigger dog might be able to handle a scorpion sting, but Grace was sixteen pounds. Speaking of pounds, he shifted Maggie and noticed that she was slipping in and out of consciousness.

Shock, definitely shock.

He wanted to yell for Hannah to hurry. Come on, what the hell is it? Was he carrying a dead woman?

“She says most scorpions in Alabama and Florida don’t have venom that’s lethal.”

“These might not be local,” Creed said. “Tell her to send the photo to Dr. Avelyn.”

“What do you mean they might not be local?” Jason stopped in his tracks to look back at Creed.

“Think about it. Have you ever seen that many scorpions all in one place?”

“Son of a bitch.” And he started tapping and walking again.

Grace began barking and bounded off to the right, trying to lead them through an even thicker underbrush. Before Creed could tell her they weren’t searching anymore, he could see the roofline. Finally!

“Good girl, Grace.” Creed followed. To Jason he said, “Looks like Grace found a shorter cut.”

“She’s better than a GPS.”

It was the first time Creed had seen the kid actually smile or at least come close, because almost immediately he was frowning again and went back to staring at Creed’s cell phone, not wanting to miss Hannah’s next message.

Sheriff Holt and his deputy were waiting for them. They helped Creed fold Maggie into the passenger seat of his Jeep. Holt already had his SUV’s engine running and the top bar lights flashing. Maggie was conscious again and trying to shove away their help until she realized she couldn’t even buckle herself in. That’s when Creed noticed the backs of her hands were swollen. So was her neck.

“Jason,” he yelled as he swung open the liftgate and helped Grace get in. “What do you have for me? Anything?”

“Dr. Avelyn wants to know how long since the last sting.”

Creed glanced at his wristwatch.

“Do you know?” he asked Jason, because he had lost all track of time.

Jason scrolled the screen on Creed’s cell phone and said, “It’s been almost forty-five minutes since you texted the photo.” He scrolled back and punched in the answer.

Then both men waited. Sheriff Holt and his deputy were at their vehicle, ready to go.

“Pinchers are too big,” Jason read. “The bigger the pinchers, the less likely they’re lethal.”

“That’s it?” Creed shoved his fingers through his hair in frustration and only now noticed the swollen sting marks on the backs of his own hands. “That’s what she expects us to bank on?”

“Wait. She said she has some antivenin just in case.” Jason looked up at him. “Seriously? She has scorpion antivenin? Who the hell is Dr. Avelyn Parker?”

Creed heaved a sigh of relief and couldn’t stop from smiling. Then he finally said, “She’s my vet.”