The Hunting Grounds

Chapter three

  Charlie Smith opened his eyes and saw that he was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. His head head throbbed terribly and his armed burned like it was on fire. He lifted it to examine it, and saw that the wound had been cleaned and stitched. Albeit, not very well. The work was sloppy and erratic. There were even a few stitches in places where there was no wound at all. He ran his fingers across the wound and then realized he wasn't wearing his glasses.

 "What the hell?" he muttered.

  Charlie had never been able to see anything without his glasses. The world had always been a fuzzy and distorted place without them. He could usually make out colors and that was it. Everything else was just shapeless blobs without his glasses. But now, he could almost see clearly. He could see the others and make out their features well enough to discern who was who.

   Incredible, he thought to himself. Fearing his vision might fail again once he stood up and got his blood flowing, he put them on anyway.

 "He's awake" Charlie heard Alexander say. "How do you feel?"

  "Hungry" replied Charlie.

 His stomach grumbled as if it needed to emphasize the point. It was rather loud and a little embarrassing.

  "We've got some cornbread warmed up, and there's a bit of coffee too. It's not much, but it'll have to do for now" said Alexander. "Let's get a look at that arm first though."

 Charlie held out his arm for the others to see. They examined it curiously.

   "That's odd. I could'a sworn it was bigger last night. Look, deputy Miller even sewed it up to there" said Alexander.

 "I was paying attention! I swear!" said Henry in defense of himself.

   "It's okay" said Charlie. "It was dark and you were panicked. You were working by fire light too. I suspect there was just a lot of blood and you must have thought the wound was bigger than what it really was."

"I must'a" said Henry. He sounded exasperated and a little confused.

  "I'm fine though, really. Let's eat. I'm starving!" said Charlie.

   The cornbread was dry and way too sweet. The coffee was bitter and almost undrinkable. Neither one sat well on his stomach and it grumbled in protest, threatening to reject the food. Charlie didn't say anything. He didn't want to seem ungrateful.

 "Last night I would have said we should head back. But that wound doesn't look nearly as bad as it did. It's your call deputy. Do you want to continue on?" asked Yale.

  Charlie again examined the wound on his arm. It hurt like hell and there was always the risk of infection, but he would needed the money from the bounty on Higgins to pay for any surgery. He could still hold a gun, and he felt some sense of duty to remove the bandit from the mountain.

  "I think so sheriff" said Charlie. "I can still handle my gun."

 "What about that thing we ran into last night? Higgins and his men are probably dead anyway. We should go back. That thing is the bigger threat" said Alexander.

   "If they're dead then that just makes it easier to collect the bounty, doesn't it?" asked Yale.

  "Jesus sheriff. If it killed that many heavily armed men, what chance do we have against it? We should at least head back to town and get some reinforcements" said Alexander.

   "I didn't take you for a coward Mr. Gates" said Yale bluntly.

 "I ain't a coward sheriff. I just know when I'm over my head. There's no point to get myself killed on this mountain, no matter how much money you're paying me."