Leopard 02 - Wild Rain

the kill and shifted shape quickly. He still had to get Joshua across the water. It would take too much time to set up the pulley and sling. He hurried back to the man, grateful to find him still alive.
    “We’re going into the river, Josh; I’m taking you to the village.”
    “You don’t have to do that, Rio. Don’t put yourself in that position.”
    Rio hoisted him onto his shoulder. “I don’t give a damn what they think about me, Josh. You need help as quickly as possible.”
    “Did you lose your clothes?”
    Rio grinned, a show of teeth. “I left them on the other side of the river in a tree.”
    “You’ve always been crazy, Rio.”
    Rio heard the utter weariness in the voice. Joshua hung like a dead weight, not even attempting to hold on. Worried, Rio plunged into the river, using every bit of his strength to fight the current to get them both to the other side. Then he began to jog.
    It was a hellish, nightmare journey. Joshua’s body slammed against Rio’s. Brush tore at his skin. The rain soaked them both as the miles passed. Rio began to tire, his legs rubbery, his lungs burning for air.
    His feet, although tough and used to the travel, were torn and bloody. It took several hours and he stopped three times to rest, give Joshua water and tighten the pressure bandages over the wounds.
    Rio staggered into the village, tired and hot and soaked from the rain just before dawn. No one came out of their houses, although they knew he was there. Joshua’s blood soaked Rio’s skin where the man was pressed tight against him. The rain continued, a steady cascading fall that created a haze between Rio and the houses. He started toward the house of their only medic. Movement caught his attention.
    The elders came onto their verandahs, watching him through the downpour.
    Rio stood for a moment, swaying with weariness, feeling anger wash over him. Shame. He was twenty-two again and standing before the council with his mother’s blood and the blood of her murderer on his hands. He lifted his head and set his jaw. They would never accept him. Never want the taint of his life to touch theirs. He could protect their people, give them his share of the money, but he would always have blood on his hands and they would never forgive him. His mouth hardened and he squared his shoulders. His eyes were fiercely proud, his jaw strong and stubborn. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t welcome in their village. He didn’t want to be there. He refused to believe that he could miss the interaction with others of his kind.
    Inside the houses the whispers would start. It always did if he had to make the journey and intrude on their space. Each time he was certain it would be different, better—that they would accept him. But their faces would be hard, or averted or they simply looked past him as if he didn’t exist. He forced strength into his tired body and carried Joshua straight to the house of the medic. They would never allow him entrance, nor would they speak to him. Even if they thought the blood on his body belonged to him, they wouldn’t ask questions or attempt to help. He was dead to them.
    Rio deliberately went up the stairs to the verandah and placed Joshua’s body onto the chair there. As he turned to leave, Joshua caught his arm. His grip was feeble but he hung on. Rio turned back, bent down to him. “You’re home now, you’re safe.”
    “Thanks, Rio. Thanks for what you did.”
    Rio gripped the hand for a moment, covering the gesture with his body so Joshua wouldn’t get reprimanded in front of the council. “Good fortune, Josh.”
    He turned, ramrod straight, walked down the steps and paused to allow his gaze to sweep with contempt, with arrogance through the village. To take in the familiar setting. Something wrenched at his heart, something deep and terrible. His temper was a sharp thorn, sticking in his gut and burning there. Resolutely he turned his back on them all and walked into the forest where he belonged. For a moment everything blurred around him. He thought it was the rain, but when he blinked, his vision cleared and his eyes burned. Rio forced the air through his lungs and told himself he was alive and on his way back to Rachael and that was all that mattered.
    Fourteen
    Rio entered the house in silence, leaving the door open to catch eventhe slightest breeze. The rain poured down in a steady rhythm, concealing the verandah and house in heavy white mists. The mosquito net performed a