Chapter 3

The supply tent was stifling.

I lay beside the cold metal equipment cases, every inch of my skin crawling like it was being eaten alive.

The dehydration had pushed my body into a high fever. My forehead burned to the touch. The cracks in my lips wept tiny beads of blood.

My left leg had gone completely numb.

The thigh had swollen so badly it was straining against the fabric of my pants. The skin had taken on a taut, glossy sheen, the look of severe internal bleeding and muscle death beneath the surface.

I could feel it. My body was failing, slowly but steadily, giving out from the dehydration and the damage.

"Ethan! Oh God, what are you doing on the ground?"

The tent flap was yanked open. Dr. Sam Pearce, the survey team's medic, burst in with his kit.

One look at me, and the color drained out of his face.

He dropped to his knees beside me, hands trembling as he tore open my pant leg, and sucked in a sharp breath.

"The muscle tissue is severely necrotic. It's already losing blood supply. Ethan, are you out of your mind?"

Sam's eyes went red with panic. He was already rummaging frantically through his kit, pulling out the last saline bag, getting it ready to run an IV.

"No good. His kidneys are starting to fail. He needs fluids right now, and then he needs surgery at a county hospital immediately. If we wait any longer, that leg is coming off. He could lose his life."

He was still talking as he struggled to find a vein in my arm.

Amanda pulled the tent flap aside and walked in.

She was holding a stack of recovered survey documents, brow furrowed.

When she saw Sam putting the needle in, her expression went flat.

"Sam, what are you doing in here? I told you to stay with Stellan in the trailer. His ice packs have melted. He's dizzy again. Go get him fresh ones, now."

Sam shot to his feet, pointing at my leg, furious.

"Mandy! Ethan has a broken leg, he's severely dehydrated, and he's running a high fever. If he doesn't get fluids and surgery, that leg is done."

Amanda's gaze finally moved to my left leg.

When she saw how swollen and darkened it was, something flickered in her eyes, a brief tightening of the pupils.

But it lasted less than a second. Then it was gone, replaced by cold indifference and suspicion.

"Sam, don't let him fool you. You know what kind of shape Ethan is in. The man carries forty pounds of gear across miles of rough terrain on a normal day. You're telling me a little time in a sand pit broke his leg?"

She walked over and gave my lower leg a light nudge with the toe of her boot, voice thick with impatience.

"Ethan, is this your way of guilting me for pulling Stellan out first? Stellan actually has asthma. Inhaling all that sand could have suffocated him. You're perfectly healthy. Can't you just be a little less selfish about this?"

I lay on the hard ground and listened to her. I didn't even bother opening my eyes.

In my last life, every time Stellan got so much as a scratch, she would make sure the whole team heard about it, turning me into the brute who was too rough and too simple to understand suffering.

In her mind, men like me didn't deserve to hurt. Men like me were made of stone.

"Mandy, have you lost it?" Sam shook with rage, pulling the saline bag close to his chest. "I'm the doctor here. I'm going off the test results. Ethan's body is at its absolute limit. This IV needs to go in right now."

"No."

Amanda snatched the saline bag out of Sam's hands and set it back in the kit without a second thought.

"Stellan's been vomiting. He's critically dehydrated. We're out of resupply. That's the last saline bag, and it needs to go to Stellan. Ethan's tough. He can drink from the water barrel outside."

She looked at me, and her voice took on a hard edge.

"Stop being dramatic. Get up and clean yourself off. Lying there like that, it's disgusting."

She dropped those words, picked up the med kit, and walked out without turning back.

Sam stood there staring at his empty hands, eyes red, tears threatening to spill.

"Ethan... how can she do this to you? You're her husband. You've been married three years."

My cracked lips moved slightly. My voice came out as a dry rasp, barely a sound.

"Sam. Don't go back to her."

I paused.

"Just get me a bowl of plain cold water. That's all. Thank you."

My heart had gone cold a long time ago. Now the only thing I wanted was to stay alive.

And then get far, far away from her.