Cut and Run 2 - Sticks and Stones

to utter. The truth was, he had no idea. His entire body was numb, not to mention his mind was reeling as he watched Zane.
    “Deuce, would you get a canteen, please?” Zane requested, his eyes not wavering from Ty’s face.
    Ty cleared his throat uncomfortably and tore his eyes away from Zane’s, afraid of what he might say if he continued to look at him. He glanced around uncertainly. Earl was rummaging through the first-aid kit, not paying them any mind as he searched for ointment and bandages, but Deuce was standing over them with his hands on his hips, watching them closely, and he nodded at Zane’s request as Ty looked up at him.
    “Sure,” Deuce said, and he limped over toward his backpack.
    Zane’s hand on Ty’s cheek brought his attention back to his partner. “Hey. You with me?” Zane asked, the concern clear on his face and in his eyes. “You have any more of the… falling?”
    Ty swallowed hard again. “I’ve never seen anything like that, Zane,” he admitted roughly.
    Zane didn’t try to make light. He nodded and continued to wipe at the blood on Ty’s shaky hand. “I’ve got your back,” he promised.
    Ty nodded jerkily. He cleared his throat again, finally feeling the embarrassment. He looked down at his hand for lack of anything better to do. “It’s bleeding a lot,” he said in a surprised voice as he looked at his fingers in the light of the fire.
    Zane must have noticed his discomfort, because he released Ty’s hand as Deuce lowered himself carefully to a knee, offering the canteen to Ty.
    “A cat?” Deuce asked dubiously.
    “It was a big cat,” Ty insisted as he held his hand up. He watched as several drops of blood dripped off his wrist. It looked like he’d stuck it in a blender.
    Earl muttered as he knelt beside Deuce and took Ty’s hand. He raised it up to look at it. “Won’t be able to get this fixed up real good until daylight,” he said grimly. “Should cauterize it.”
    “Oh, hell no,” Ty protested as he tried to jerk his hand away. Earl’s grip tightened, and he looked at Ty pointedly. “We’ll just clean it real good and double-time it in the morning, okay?” Ty bargained.
    Earl raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement. “Wash it up real good,” he warned.
    “Yes, sir,” Ty muttered. His father handed Deuce the ointment and bandages and then went to get water. Ty glanced over at Zane, who was watching him silently. “Shut up,” he muttered.

Chapter 15

    A S Z ANE and Earl packed their bags at sunup, Deuce hunkered down, took Ty’s hand, and frowned at the wounds. “Does it hurt?” he asked as he poked at Ty’s palm. Ty nearly choked on the water he’d been gulping down and wrenched his hand away with a hoarse curse.
    “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Zane said wryly as he stopped next to them.
    “We need to wrap it,” Earl advised. He turned around, his hands on his hips and a scowl set on his face. “You need to protect it while you’re walking. You need to keep it as still as possible, keep it up. We’ll have to immobilize it somehow.”
    Ty resisted the urge to growl. It was a nuisance, but he knew his father was right. Bites were nasty business at any time, but out here where they were miles away from anything resembling sanitary conditions, it could turn deadly very fast. Of all the wounds the others had suffered during their escapades, this was probably the most dangerous, as embarrassing as it was. “Yes, sir,” Ty muttered with a nod.
    “I’ll get a clean T-shirt,” Deuce mumbled as he climbed to his feet.
    Zane’s lips twitched as he stayed there next to Ty. He crouched down next to his partner. “So. Just a nice stretch of the legs on the mountain. No problem,” he said conversationally.
    “It’s not entirely going to plan,” Ty muttered as he looked away from Zane, flushing a bit.
    Zane snorted. “With us, when does it ever?”
    Ty glanced over at him, met his eyes for a moment, and smirked crookedly. “I can think of a few times.”
    Their eyes met briefly, and Ty felt more words on the tip of his tongue, but the jarring sound of material ripping interrupted any further conversation. Deuce was methodically cutting a brown T-shirt into thin strips. “Hey!” Ty called out. “Not that one!” he protested as he pointed at the shirt. The Schitt Creek Paddle Co. shirt was one of his very favorites. “That’s a lucky shirt!”
    “Deal with it, Meow Mix,” Deuce advised as he carefully draped the