Into The Darkness (25 page)

“What’s
he got?”

“Snakebite.
It was a copperhead.”

The
conversation woke Mary and she gasped at the site of the man and his shotgun.
She quickly shook Kevin. Kevin was groggy from sickness and fatigue. He
acknowledged the man’s presence with a lethargic groan.

“Hey,
amigo, let everyone know we’re just having a conversation and not to do
anything stupid. Okay?”

“This
is…”

“It’s
Ben. Just call me Ben.”

“I
was just telling Ben that we’re passing through. We’ll leave when Kevin gets
better. This is Ben’s land and—”

Kevin
interrupted. “Water, I need water, please,” said Kevin, in a hoarse voice.

Ben
saw a bottle of water between him and Kevin. He picked up the bottle and bent
over to hand it to Kevin, but not before he gave a quick glance back toward
Dylan and the rifle. Dylan noticed the glance and held up his hands passively.

Kevin
reflexively tried to reach for the water with his right hand. When he pulled it
out from underneath the tarp, everyone could see it had swollen to enormous
dimensions. That hand was not going to work. Kevin then slowly extended his
left hand for the bottle of water and Mary quickly intercepted it, opening it
for her husband, and holding it while he drank. Vomiting and diarrhea
throughout the night had dehydrated him.

“Hey,
buddy, your jaw is messed up, too. You look like you’re in a world of hurt,”
said Ben, sympathetically.

“It’s
his tooth, and it’s infected,” said Mary. “We should have taken care of that a
year ago. I just don’t know what we’re going to do. We need a doctor.”

“Pardon
the expression lady, but the shit has hit the fan. Good luck on that.” He
paused and removed his hat to scratch his head. As he spoke, he pointed at Mary
with his index finger as he held his hat in his hand. “If his tooth is infected,
then you better pull it. You better yank it out with pliers now, before it gets
worse.”

Kevin
closed his eyes and groaned.

“Dylan
says we don’t have any pliers,” said Mary, looking at Dylan.

Dylan
shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t know how to pull a tooth anyway.”

Ben
went over to Dylan. He got close to him and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
“Your friend over there is getting ready to meet Jesus. I’ll see what I can
do.” Ben stood up and started to back away from the group. “My wife worked at a
dental office for a while. I’ll see what she has to say about that tooth.”

“Bring
her back, let her look at his tooth,” said Mary, with exasperation.

“No
can do. No offense, but I don’t know you, so she’s not coming over here and
you’re not going near my house. It’s better that way.” He turned completely
around and walked toward the field of corn.

“Hey,
Ben,” said Dylan.

Ben
stopped and turned back around.

“How
did you know we were here?”

Ben
laughed. “Smoke, lots of smoke. It was like you were trying to give away your
location.” He disappeared into a row of corn.

Dylan
looked at Mary and she realized that she was the one who had put the leaves and
green wood on the fire.

“Hopefully,
something good will come of this,” said Dylan, as he grabbed his rifle and
moved it to his side. “Cover him back up. Let’s try to get some sleep.

Dylan
slept for several more hours, and it was hunger that woke him up this time. The
late morning sun was bright, so he changed his tarp to lean over the raft for shade
and tried to quietly fix some food while the couple slumbered on. The sun was
climbing higher in the clear sky and a warm breeze was picking up. Dylan looked
at the smoldering fire, and then looked at the grove of wood where the snake
had been. He frowned to himself and went in that direction to get more wood for
the fire. Dylan carefully stepped around and kicked the wood before picking it
up. He cautiously collected a supply of firewood and deposited it all by the
fire. Kevin and Mary woke up as he stacked the wood.

Dylan
took some food over to Kevin and offered it to him. Kevin lethargically shook
his head and reclined again. Dylan handed the food to Mary. “We can’t waste it,
so here you go,” said Dylan. He stepped back from the couple and silently
motioned for Mary to come towards him.

“He’s
bad. Ben was right, we have to do something,” said Dylan.

Mary
nodded; she had a sad and defeated expression on her face.

“He’s
got to have some pliers,” said Dylan, angrily. “Damn it, I should’ve said
something. I should’ve told him to bring back some pliers.”

“But
you said you didn’t know how to do it?”

“This
isn’t worth dying over. I should have said something. We have to try.”

Mary’s
face was horrified.

“I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

Mary
held the crucifix around her neck with her thumb and first finger, and then
gently gave it a kiss, trying to comfort herself. “I heard what he said,” Mary
said, nervously. “I heard that man whisper to you; he thinks Kevin is going to
die.”

Dylan
shook his head. It was something he did not want to talk about anymore. He
walked toward the field of corn to escape the conversation, leaving Mary standing
by the campfire. He stood near the rows of corn that must have been planted
before the event, before the grid collapsed. He grabbed an ear and ripped it
from the stalk. A quick glance back to camp showed Mary sitting by her husband
again. Dylan began to walk the edge of the cornfield. He held the ear of corn
with a tight grip and used it to hit the stalks of corn as he walked by. He
heard something in the cornfield. Something was moving in the stalks of corn
and the sound was getting closer.

“Ben?”
asked Dylan, as he curiously peered into the rows of corn. There was no reply.
The sound grew louder, so he began to step away from the corn. Suddenly a
German shepherd lunged from behind the tall stalks. It was about six feet away
from Dylan. The dog bared its teeth and delivered a low growl. Its hair was
standing up along the ridge of its spine. Dylan frantically looked around for a
rock or stick to use like a club. There was nothing but the ear of corn in his
hand. He faced the dog and slowly moved backward. He knew that if he ran the
dog would attack.

“Mary!”
yelled Dylan; he raised the ear of corn to throw it at the dog. “Get the
rifle!”

Dylan
did not turn around. He knew if he turned away, the dog would be on him.

“Hurry
up, Mary! Squeeze that trigger!” exclaimed Dylan as he continued to back up slowly.

The
dog’s growling stopped and it lifted its head. The dog sniffed the air and its
ears twisted, searching for a noise. Dylan heard a whistle. It sounded like a
person whistling for a dog.

“Don’t
shoot! Hold it! Someone is in there,” said Dylan, still backing away.

The
dog turned and ran back into the cornfield, and Dylan quickly turned to sprint
for his rifle, grabbing it from Mary. His hands were shaking.

“Are
you okay?”

“Yeah,
but that was close.”

Ben
emerged from the cornfield. He did not have his shotgun this time, but was
carrying something in his hand. The dog was right behind him. “Looks like you
met my dog. Sorry about that. She got away from me.”

Dylan
pointed to his rifle and shook his head disapprovingly. “That was close.”

“Sit!
Sit!” Ben commanded the dog. The dog sat and Ben commanded her to stay as he
walked toward Dylan and Mary.

“I
need to keep her away from that water,” said Ben, pointing to the inlet, “and
the trees. There is good fishing over there, but it’s thick with snakes. I
already lost my other dog to a copperhead.”

Mary
went pale and looked back to her still sleeping husband.

Ben
held up a pair of pliers. “Let’s sit down and talk.”

They
walked back to the campfire and sat down. Ben tossed the pliers to Dylan.

“I
talked to my wife. She said, ‘grip the tooth and wiggle it back and forth until
it comes out.’ That’s it.”

“That’s
it?” asked Dylan.

“That’s
it. Well…almost it,” replied Ben, tipping his hat upwards. “My wife said that
between the snakebite and the infected tooth, your friend Kevin is going to
need some antibiotics, and fast.”

“I’m
listening,” said Dylan.

Ben
took his hat off and used it to fan his face. “I’ll help you pull his tooth.
Then we go into town and get some antibiotics. What do you think?”

“It’s
just that easy?” asked Dylan, skeptically.

“Maybe,
but it’s my wife’s idea.”

“I’m
still listening.”

“She
said that pet stores sell antibiotics for aquarium fish and they are the same
as human antibiotics.”

“Really?
Is she positive?” asked Mary.

“Absolutely.
I’m sure the pet stores will be looted, but people would’ve taken the dog and
cat supplies and pet food. They won’t give a shit about their fish. Hell, they
probably ate their fish by now,” said Ben, laughing. “You go into town with me
and we’ll split everything we take. Sound fair?”

Dylan
looked at Mary and she nodded.

Ben
extended his arm and opened his palm. “Mary, give this to your husband. It’s a
painkiller. Once it kicks in, we should take the tooth.”

Mary
took the pill wrapped in a small piece of paper. “I’ll go talk to Kevin.”

“How
do we get into town?” asked Dylan.

“Horses.
I have two. We’ll ride out at sunrise tomorrow,” Ben said, looking back toward
the dog to make sure she was still there.

“Okay,
it’s a deal.”

Dylan
looked down at the pliers in his hand, then toward Mary and Kevin. Kevin was
sitting up. Mary made eye contact and nodded her head as she tossed away the
empty piece of paper that had held the pain pill. By Mary’s expression alone,
they understood that Kevin had agreed to go through with the tooth extraction.

Dylan
and Ben put a tarp on the ground and helped Kevin onto it. They positioned
Kevin on the edge of the tarp and rolled the tarp around his body, like a
cocoon. All that was exposed was Kevin’s head and neck. The tightly wrapped
tarp restrained his arms. Dylan held the pliers and straddled Kevin’s supine
body and Ben held onto Kevin’s head. They put a short but thick stick in the
back of Kevin’s jaw to keep him from biting down on the pliers or their
fingers.

“Remember,
don’t crack the tooth. Just grip it and wiggle it around until it gets loose,”
said Ben.

Dylan
nodded, took a deep breath, held it briefly, and tried to relax as he slowly
exhaled. Dylan held up three fingers. “On my count. One…two…three…Hold him!
Hold tight!” Kevin’s head jostled on the hard ground and he groaned in pain.
Dylan pushed, pulled, and wiggled against the tooth with the pliers. He began
to feel a slight looseness from side to side. “It’s moving…almost there.”

Kevin
began to cough and choke on his own blood. “He’s bleeding! Get that tooth out,”
said Ben, frantically. “The snake venom thinned his blood. His mouth is filling
up with blood.”

Dylan
leaned his body weight forward and he felt Kevin’s tooth release from the jaw.
“Got it! Flip him over.”

Kevin
turned his head toward the ground, coughed, and spit a cupful of bright red
blood onto the dirt. He coughed once more and took in a deep breath. Both men
swiftly unrolled Kevin from the tarp. Kevin curled his body on the ground,
grimaced, and touched his jaw with his swollen hand.

Mary
handed him a small piece of cloth wadded into a ball. “Bite down on this. It
will help the bleeding,” said Mary, as she sprinkled some water on her
husband’s forehead.

Dylan
picked the molar up from the ground and washed it off. He carefully inspected
the tooth. “It’s intact. We got the whole thing.” He handed the tooth and the pliers
to Mary and humorously said, “Keep them for your scrap book.”

Ben
had walked back over to his dog. The big German shepherd had obediently stayed
in the same spot. Ben motioned for Dylan to come to him, and Dylan acknowledged
with a wave.

As
Dylan closed his approach, the dog alerted and began to growl at Dylan again.

“Heel!”
commanded Ben.

“Your
dog doesn’t like me,” said Dylan, stating the obvious.

“She
doesn’t see many strangers out here. Let her get your scent. She’ll warm up to
you.”

Dylan
slowly extended his hand. The dog began to smell the air, then licked Dylan’s
fingers, hand, and arm.

“Looks
like you’ve got her approval now,” said Ben, petting his dog.

“What’s
her name?”

“Lucky.”

“How’d
she get that name?”

Ben
pointed to the wooded area by the river. “When she was a pup, Lucky and her
brother were down there chasing rabbits. Snakes bit them both. Her brother didn’t
make it. So, she’s Lucky.”