JEDROLLEDfrom his bed and onto the hardwood floor with a thump. The impact sent a shock of pain through his body. He shuddered as the discomfort passed, from the chill in his bones as much as the remnants of his unpleasant awakening. The cabin was dark and cold, like it had been since he’d come home a few hours before.
He glanced around for a shirt, noting he’d pulled his usual trick of passing out half dressed after his shower. He found his T-shirt bunched up in his hands.
Idiot.
Jed hauled himself up and pulled it over his head. He felt a little odd, the way he always did when he woke from a journey back in time: detached somehow, like his mind wasn’t quite his own. The dream was an old but regular one. Sometimes he thought the slaughtered children’s laughter would haunt him forever, but it had seemed faded this time, only to be replaced by other facets of his memory. This time, Paul’s hand on his shoulder had felt too real, and Glenn’s whispered oath too loud. For a moment it felt like they were right there with him. He could smell them. Touch them. Even Saja’s warning bark still echoed in his head.
Jed put a hand on his chest, willing his racing heart to slow down. He was losing it. He had to be. In the haze of his dream-clouded mind, the familiar warning sounded all wrong. The bark was loud and persistent, but it wasn’t alerting him to the presence of explosives or a suicide bomber. It couldn’t be. His trip down memory lane had been all too real, but he was awake enough now to know he was as far from Iraq as he’d ever been.
Fuck. It wasn’t Saja barking at all: it was Flo, and she was calling for help.
The blast of perception was abrupt and shocking, and it propelled Jed forward before his brain caught up. He threw open his bedroom door, moving faster than his damaged body wanted to. His leg screamed in protest, but he ignored it, following Flo’s call through the cabin and out into the yard. He scanned his surroundings, his bare feet crunching the frosted dirt. A flash of white caught his eye. Flo was mostly black, but her muzzle was white, and he finally spotted her in the open doorway of the boat shed.
Jed darted across the yard. It was the first time he’d tested his body in such a way, but as his gaze fell on Max, convulsing on the ground, he felt no pain. He dropped to the floor, desperate to soothe him, but the rational, trained part of his brain knew he couldn’t touch him until the seizure passed.
Make him safe.
He grabbed a rug from the battered old couch and jammed it under Max’s thrashing head, using his foot of his good leg to shove the couch out of Max’s way.
Flo nudged him with her nose, whining, as he scanned the floor for any other objects that could injure Max.
Jed patted her tense, coiled shoulders. “I know, girl, I know. I’ve got him.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind, his medic training told him that he needed to time the seizure. Longer than five minutes meant Max was in serious trouble, but Jed didn’t wear a watch these days, and he’d left his cell phone turned off on his nightstand.
Flo whined again, and Jed’s breath caught in his throat. He felt comforted that she’d known to call for him instead of pressing the panic button, but the thought of her possible indecision… of Max lying on the cold floor of his workshop, tore Jed apart. He’d come home to a dark cabin and Max’s closed bedroom door. Without his lively roommate to distract him, Jed had passed out without so much as glancing around the cabin. He called himself every name under the sun for not checking Max’s whereabouts first.
The violent tremors wracking Max’s body began to fade. Jed put two fingers to the pulse point in his neck then checked his airway. Going through the motions came to him without much conscious thought. It had been a while since he’d put his medic training to the test, but it was something he’d always been good at.
He shook Max’s shoulder. “Max? Can you hear me?”
Max shifted, his eyes rolling, but Jed was persistent, and eventually, long after the bitter cold of the outbuilding had crept into his bones, he saw awareness flicker back into Max’s dark gaze.
He held out his hand. Max took it and sat up with a soft groan. He flexed his locked joints and brought his hand to his head. “What…?”
Jed sat back on his heels, relieved. “Seizure. Anything hurt?”
Max looked around as he considered his answer. His eyes were dazed and confused, like he couldn’t remember how he’d come to be in the boat shed. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, but words seemed to fail him.
Jed hooked the couch with his foot and dragged it back to its original position. He slipped an arm under Max’s shoulders, braced himself, and brought them both to their feet.
Startled, Max blinked rapidly, alarm coloring his face. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere without you, but we gotta get out of this cold, okay?”
Flo took her cue and scampered away. Jed helped Max across the yard, a little puzzled she’d left Max’s side, until he reached the cabin and saw she’d run ahead and opened every door in his path. Every door, it seemed, except the door to Max’s bedroom. Instead, she was waiting in the doorway of Jed’s bedroom.
Huh. He’d noticed that before, the way she sometimes veered off toward his room before she caught herself. It made Jed wonder if Max had switched rooms before he’d moved in.
Not that it mattered. Perhaps she was being logical. Jed’s room was closer to the back door, and it wasn’t like he used it much. Easing Max down onto his bed made sense.
He knelt stiffly as Max stared off at something only he could see, and pulled off Max’s boots. He placed them on the floor, watching, absently amused, as Flo took them one by one to the basket by the back door. But the distraction was brief. When he looked back at Max it was clear from the glaze of his eyes that he was slipping back into unconsciousness fast.
Jed got up, this time heeding the warning from his leg and using the nightstand for balance. He pulled back the comforter on the bed. “Get in. Sleep it off. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
Max followed his instructions and slid into the bed, then curled up on his side. He touched Jed’s arm. “Don’t go.”
Max’s voice was tired and quiet, but the distress in his eyes was loud and clear. Jed pulled the covers up over Max’s waist. “Gotta lock the shed,” he said softly. “I’ll be back.”